our business."

He continued, his voice precise and even

"We went directly from the end of the Boardwalk to the old shed;
it was open, an unfastened door on a pair of leather hinges. The
shed is small, about twenty feet by eleven, with a hard dirt
floor packed down by the workmen who had used it; a combination
of clay and sand like the Jersey roads put in to make a floor.
All round it, from the sea to the board fence, was soft sand.
There were some pieces of old junk lying about in the shed; but
nothing of value or it would have been nailed up.

"The hobo led right off with his deductions. There, was the
track of a man, clearly outlined in the soft sand, leading from
the board fence to the shed and returning, and no other track
anywhere about.

"`Now, Governor,' he began, when he had taken a look at the
tracks, `the man that made them tracks carried something into
this shed, and he left it here, and it was something heavy.'

"I was fairly certain that the hobo had salted the place for me,
made the tracks himself; but I played out a line to him.

"`How do you know that?' I said.

"`Well, Governor,' he answered, `take a look at them two lines of
tracks. In the one comin' to the shed the man was walkin' with
his feet apart and in the one goin' back he was walkin' with his