Unimpressed, Chief walked ahead, on the lookout for anybody who might see them. In the distance he spotted a shack. It looked like a good place to hide.

“Joe, we’ll head in there,” he said, pointing. “It looks empty. We’ll stay for the night and figure out a plan in the morning.” 

“Awesome! Then we can shop the yard! Look at all those old bicycles! There must be two hundred of them!” 

When they got to the shack, the back door was already open. Hmm, Chief thought. That couldn’t be good. He walked in slowly, eyes and ears open for anything suspicious. It was dark inside and difficult to see.

Behind Chief, Joe shook the Foozle for light. Unfortunately, during the back-swing of snapping on the contraption, he knocked over a lava lamp. CRASH!! It hit the ground and shattered. They heard voices wafting in through the wall of the shack.

“Joe, turn that thing off,” Chief whispered. “Somebody’s coming!” 

“That’s great, Chief!” Joe whispered back excitedly. “Maybe they’ll sell us some junk.” 

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