“Yes, Johnny,” the strange fellow’s voice was low. “Yes, it’s me. But don’t talk so loud Johnny, not quite so loud.”
As on those other occasions, Johnny prepared a small feast for his wandering friend. Tonight, instead of talking, he sat silently watching until the last bite was gone. Then he said quite suddenly:
“Did he find you?” Johnny eyed Pant eagerly.
“Who find me?” Pant stared.
“Have you forgotten?” Johnny asked in surprise. “The shadow. That giant with a hooked nose.”
“Did you see it?” It was Pant’s turn to be surprised.
“I’ll say I saw it. Gives me the creeps just thinking about it now.”
“No-o,” Pant said slowly, “he hasn’t found me, not—not yet.”
Pant dropped into a chair. At once his face became a mask. Only the gleam of his curious pink eyes, told that he was alive. Johnny knew the meaning of this, Pant, like a turtle, had withdrawn into his shell. Johnny settled into his place to take up a pencil and begin tracing geometric figures on a square of paper.
Pant was first to break the long silence that followed. When he did speak it was as if the many hours that had passed since their last meeting had not been.