For just a minute I was scared, then I gave a rap on the door.
Oh, but it was dark and it smelled bad in that hall.

I guess they ought to tear down that row of tenements.

Pretty soon I rapped again, and I felt kind of funny, because I didn't know what I ought to say--especially if a woman opened it.

All of a sudden it opened very soft, and, good night I who should be standing there but--who do you think?
Westy Martin.
Jiminetty, but wasn't I flabbergasted! Even as surprised as I was, I looked down at his feet and sure enough he had on scout shoes, almost new.

Talk about plots growing thicker! This one was getting so thick you couldn't drive a nail into it.
"Well--what--are--you--doing--here ?" I gasped out just like that.
"Shh," he said, "keep quiet; come in, but keep quiet." So I went in, all flabbergasted and there was a room with the paper all falling off the walls and no carpet On the floor, but anyway the windows were wide open, that was one good thing.