"I don't like kids messin' with my stuff."

The ancient wooden door swung open. Inside it was pitch black. Johnson hesitated. What was it that made him apprehensive? His mouth felt dry and he tried to swallow.

"Go on in!" taunted the old man as he shoved Johnson through the door.

Stumbling on the raised sill, Johnson fell to one knee ripping his pants. Damnit, he cursed.

"There's a light switch ahead of you," the old man reassured him. "Jes' pull the string."

The stench of moldy hay made Johnson gag.

"Where is it卼he spider?" he called out.

"She's in the back. You can't miss her."

"Where's the light?"

"Right in front of you. Can't you see it?" mocked the old man.

Johnson stretched out his hand. At first, he could not feel anything. Then slowly groping the air in, he caught hold of it. Johnson's heart leapt in relief. But there was something strange. The line didn't feel like string. It was sticky like a?/p>

Pulling the line, Johnson knew he had made a mistake. Something rustled in the rafters above him and bits of straw floated down.

Johnson bolted for the opening.

"Enjoy yourself!" cackled the old man as he slammed the door and locked it.

"Let me out! Let me out!" shouted Johnson, pounding on the door. "Let me out, you old buzzard!"

But it was no use. The dried-out wooden door was like iron. Pausing to catch his breath, his fists throbbing, Johnson looked around. Slowly his eyes grew accustomed to the dark. What appeared to be a black chasm was, in fact, the side entrance to the barn. There must be another way out, he thought. But where?