Chapter 7

Chapter 7 "Look, there's another one!" Dink said, pointing ahead on the path. "And another!" "I wonder who made them," Ruth Rose said. She knelt down and put her finger in one of the prints. "These are toe marks. Did you guys notice if that guy in the grave was barefooted?" Dink shrugged. He put his own foot next to the print. "It's nearly twice as long as mine!" "Let's follow them," Ruth Rose said.

Josh nearly choked. "Are you crazy?" "Josh, don't you want to know whose feet these are?" Dink asked. "It could be the grave robber!" "Come on," Ruth Rose said, taking the lead again. As they walked the trail, the soil changed from dark red to brown to almost black. They had no trouble finding more footprints in the soft earth. Suddenly Josh stopped. He stuck his nose into the air like a wolf. "I smell food," he said. "What?" Dink asked. "Hot dogs?" Josh shook his head. "Something sort of spicy," he said. "Like chili!" "Chili in the woods?" Dink asked. "Gee, maybe there's a restaurant out here in the middle of nowhere." The next one to stop suddenly was Ruth Rose. She put a finger to her lips. "Shhh, listen!" she hissed. A few seconds later, they all heard a thunk. Then there were more thunks. The kids stared at each other with raised eyebrows. Ruth Rose kept walking and the others followed.

The trail ended in a sunny clearing. Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose stood and gaped. Straight ahead was a small cabin built from stuff you'd find in a junkyard: old hunks of tin, mismatched boards, sheets of plastic, even the rusted hood of a car. The cabin was raised off the ground on thick tree stumps. A gigantic tree shaded the house. Dink noticed a tire swing hanging from one of the branches. He wondered if kids lived here. Standing with his back to them was a tall man holding an ax. His hair was so light it looked white. He wore long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Below the pant bottoms, Dink could make out large bare feet. The man raised the ax over his head and brought it down on a log. When he bent to grab

the two split pieces, he noticed the kids watching him. Dink was surprised. He had expected an older man. But the face staring at them was smooth. The man had warm brown eyes. He looked no older than Jack. "Hello," the man said. His voice was deep but gentle. "Are you lost?" Dink spoke up. "No, we're … exploring," he said. "Are you hungry?" the tall man asked. Behind the stack of firewood, a fire was burning in a pit. A black iron pot was suspended over the flames, and the smell of something spicy filled the air. "We just had breakfast," Ruth Rose said. "But thank you anyway, mister." "My name is Byron," the man said. "I'm Ruth Rose, and these are my friends Dink and Josh," Ruth Rose said. Dink saw an easel set up under a tree. "Can we look at your painting?" he asked. "Okay," Byron said, blushing. The three kids walked over to the easel. Byron had painted an old iron fence. Hanging over the

fence was a tree branch dripping gray Spanish moss. The moon shone down, bathing the scene with a soft glow. The space behind the fence was blank. "It's not finished yet," Byron said from behind Dink, startling him. How could such a big guy walk so silently? Dink wondered.