"I suppose you haven't got a match, have you?" asked Clint.
"Right-o! You're a fine little supposer," chattered Amy.
"There's something here and I want to see what it is," said Clint. As he spoke he moved forward a step or two and felt around in the darkness. "It feels like a fence," he muttered, "a board fence. No, it isn't, it's a house! Here's a window."
"A hole, I'd call it," said Amy. "Let's find the door."
They moved to the right, following the building, and promptly collided with a tree. They had to go around that, since there was no room to squeeze past it. Then the hut, for it was evidently no more, presented a doorway, with a door half-open on broken hinges. They hesitated a moment.
"Wonder what's inside," said Clint in a low voice.
"Spooks," suggested Amy, none too bravely.
"Shut up! Would you go in?"
"Sure, I would. Come on."
Very cautiously they edged past the crazy door, their hands stretched warily ahead. There was a sudden scurrying sound from the darkness and they jumped back and held their breaths.