sst!" which meant "I heard something mysterious!
Everybody keep still a minute," which we did; and then as plain as day
I heard it myself, an old man's voice talking. It was high pitched and
quavering, and kinda sad-like, like he was begging somebody to do
something for him....

We were all so quiet as mice, not a one of us moving or hardly
breathing.... I couldn't hear a word the old man was saying, but he
sounded like he needed help.... I remembered how we'd all saved his
life two different times--once when a robber had tied him up and he'd
have starved if we hadn't found him, and another time when he'd fallen
down his cellar steps in the winter-time and his fire had gone out,
and we had started a fire for him with punk, using the thick lenses of
his reading glasses for a magnifying glass--which any boy can do if he
can get some real dry punk and a magnifying glass.... First you focus
the red hot light which shines from the sun through the magnifying
glass, right on the punk until it makes a little smoking live coal,
then you hold a piece of dry paper against the red glow on the punk,
and blow and blow with your breath until all of a sudden there will be
an honest to goodness flame of fire....

Say, when I heard Old Man Paddler half talking and half crying up
there in his cabin, I got a very queer feeling inside of me....

"Quick!" Circus said, "He's in trouble. Let's go in and help him."
Circus gave a shove on the door, turning the latch at the same time,
but the door wouldn't budge.

"It's barred," Poetry said, and I remembered the heavy bar on the
inside which the old man always dropped into place whenever he was
inside.

"Sh! Listen!" Little Jim said, and we shushed and listened.

Say, that little guy had his ear pressed up real close to a crack in
the door, and in the light of my flashlight which I didn't shine right
straight _on_ his face on account of it might blind him, I could see
that his eyes had a very far away look in them, like he was thinking
something important and maybe in his mind's eyes was seeing something
even more important.

"What is it?" I said to him, and he said, "Don't worry, he's all
right. He doesn't need our help--here, listen yourself," which I did,
and right away I knew Little Jim was right.... For this is what I
heard the old man saying in his quavering, high-pitched voice, "...
And please, You're the best friend I ever had, letting me live all
these long years, taking care of