Chap­ter 17 begins with Will and Jim stand­ing togeth­er, the fad­ing twi­light cast­ing a mys­te­ri­ous atmos­phere around them as they gaze at a pecu­liar leather bag aban­doned on the ground. The bag seems strange­ly out of place, almost as though it were delib­er­ate­ly left behind for them to dis­cov­er. Will, feel­ing an impul­sive surge of curios­i­ty, kicks it, pro­duc­ing a hol­low sound that echoes unset­tling­ly in the oth­er­wise still air. Jim, his curios­i­ty piqued, crouch­es down and reach­es into the bag, pulling out a long met­al shaft, which is adorned with strange and fan­tas­ti­cal sym­bols. These symbols—chimeras and Chi­nese dragons—are often asso­ci­at­ed with pro­tec­tion, espe­cial­ly from storms. The iron­ic thing is that the storm they had expect­ed nev­er arrived, leav­ing the boys to spec­u­late on the sig­nif­i­cance of the item they had just uncov­ered. The more they exam­ine the sit­u­a­tion, the more ques­tions arise—why had the light­ning-rod sales­man left behind this seem­ing­ly impor­tant object? What had hap­pened to him, and why was it aban­doned?

As the evening deep­ens, the boys become increas­ing­ly fix­at­ed on the mys­tery of the light­ning-rod sales­man. They won­der why he had left so abrupt­ly, aban­don­ing his world­ly pos­ses­sions behind. The atmos­phere around them has shift­ed; the hus­tle and bus­tle of the car­ni­val has qui­et­ed, and the sounds of the town set­tling in for the night now fill the air. Peo­ple are return­ing to their homes, the honk­ing of cars sig­nal­ing the end of the evening’s fes­tiv­i­ties. Boys ride bikes down the streets, chased by play­ful dogs, and the night feels eeri­ly calm after the carnival’s chaos. Jim pon­ders over the bag’s sig­nif­i­cance, believ­ing it might hold all the man’s belong­ings, sug­gest­ing that some­thing must have hap­pened to make him leave every­thing behind. Jim’s tone con­veys a sense of urgency, as if he sens­es that what­ev­er is in the bag is incred­i­bly impor­tant, and they must uncov­er its mys­tery before it’s too late. The boys are caught up in a whirl­wind of curios­i­ty and unease, the weight of the moment grow­ing heav­ier with each pass­ing sec­ond. There is a qui­et under­stand­ing between them—they must inves­ti­gate fur­ther, dri­ven by the need to uncov­er the truth.

As they linger over the bag and the mys­tery it holds, Will press­es Jim for answers. He ques­tions what could be so impor­tant that the sales­man left behind every­thing, includ­ing the bag they now find them­selves obsessed with. Jim, though deeply curi­ous, sug­gests that only by search­ing the bag can they tru­ly under­stand what it con­tains, hint­ing that the mys­tery might be linked to some­thing much larg­er. Their shared sense of adven­ture grows stronger, and as they look around, they notice the still­ness of the town around them. The car­ni­val has fad­ed into the back­ground, its once-live­ly sounds now dis­tant. They pass the Mir­ror Maze, where their reflec­tions are end­less­ly mul­ti­plied, height­en­ing the sur­re­al qual­i­ty of the moment. Will feels an intense wave of iso­la­tion, know­ing that the oth­er chil­dren are safe in their homes, unaware of the strange adven­ture unfold­ing around them. This real­iza­tion spurs them for­ward, know­ing that what they are about to dis­cov­er holds far more weight than they can under­stand. The night feels vast and filled with poten­tial, as if every­thing that hap­pens from here on out will lead them to a piv­otal moment. Their deter­mi­na­tion to uncov­er the secrets of the bag grows stronger, the grav­i­ty of the carnival’s hold on them impos­si­ble to ignore. They know they are on the brink of uncov­er­ing some­thing pro­found, and though fear nips at their heels, their curios­i­ty push­es them fur­ther into the mys­tery. The boys are no longer just pas­sive observers—they are now active par­tic­i­pants in a strange and omi­nous jour­ney that promis­es to reveal not only the carnival’s secrets but their own hid­den strengths. Each new step they take deep­ens their con­nec­tion to this grow­ing mys­tery, and there is no turn­ing back now.