HOW DICK RUNS ACROSS A DESERTED FARMHOUSE, AND WHAT HE FINDS THERE.
Caspar’s was simply a small roadhouse, situated near a bridge.
Dick Armstrong crossed the bridge and struck out across the country, following the country road.
He had general directions how to proceed, but expected to depend on people he might meet along the road to keep him from going astray.
The morning was young when he set out, and as he was in good spirits and accustomed to plenty of exercise, he walked along at a swinging gait.
About eleven o’clock he was overtaken by a farm wagon, the owner of which not only gave him a lift for several miles on his way, but his dinner also at a neat farmhouse a short distance back from the turnpike.
Although the farmer refused payment, Dick insisted on helping him for an hour about the barn, and when he finally left to continue his journey the farmer’s wife handed him a substantial package of eatables which included a pint bottle of milk.
About dark Dick reached a junction of two roads.
It was a lonesome neighborhood, and as nobody was in sight to direct him which was the better one to take, he turned into the road leading off to the right.
He was glancing around for a large stone or a tree-stump for a seat on which to rest while he ate his supper, when he spied a light dimly shining through a window a little distance back from the road.