the boys' journey this path would probably have been
indistinguishable to any but scouts. It brought them soon to an old
tumbled-down building which had never been more than a mere shack, and
was now so utterly dilapidated that living in it would be quite out of
the question. Some remnants of a roof remained in a few shreds of
curled, rotten shingles, the foundation was intact, and the sides though
bulging and full of gaping crevices were still standing.

"Oh look at the house, it's all ruined like Reims Cathedral," Pee-wee
shouted. This, indeed, was its only point of resemblance to Reims
Cathedral. "Come on inside," he continued, leading the way, "it's a
dandy place, it's all caving in."

"I suppose they want about a thousand dollars a month rent for this
place," said Westy Martin.

"Sure," said Roy, "it has all modern improvements, free shower-baths
when it rains and everything."

Within, the place was dank and musty and cobwebs spread across the
openings where the windows had been. Much broken glass and a couple of
sash weights fastened to ends of rotten sash cord lay upon the floor. In
the corner was a makeshift bed of straw, matted from age, damp and
unwholesome. The place was in possession of spiders. Whole boards of the
flooring had rotted, yielding like mud under the feet of the scouts.

"Some place," said Connie Bennett.

"Oh, here's a dime," Pee-wee shouted reaching under an open space in the
flooring. "I can get a soda with that."

"Here's another," said Westy.

It seemed likely that some of the heroes who had made the world safe for
democracy had beguiled their time playing craps before going forth to
glory.

Suddenly Pee-wee shouted, "Oh look at this! I bet it has something to do
with a spy! I bet it has secret papers in it! _Look what I found!_"

From under the edge of the rotten straw our observant young hero had
pulled out an oilskin wallet. There were not many such places as this
old ruin that did not yield up their treasures to Pee-wee. The veriest
ash heap became a place of romance under his prying hand and inquisitive
eye. This find was just one of those ordinary oilskin wallets which had
held and protected many letters from mothers and sweethearts and which
had been shot through and through in the trenches in France. Black spots
of mildew were upon it and it had an oily, unpleasant odor.

"_I found it! I found it!_" Pee-wee vociferated, as the scouts all
clustered about him eager to see