There was a discontented murmur growing among the men, and Arden could see the man whom Titus Ellery called “Nick” circulating among them and saying something in an insistent low tone. They were talking in a little group near the door of the room while Callahan questioned Jim’s particular friend more closely.
Arden stepped to the open door of the closet and peered inside. Then she stooped down, and when she straightened up again she held up a small grimy object.
She turned and faced the awe-struck company, for what she was displaying was a glove such as workmen wear, of a dull white color with a dark-blue knitted band at the wrist.
“That’s his glove!” exclaimed the man near Mr. Callahan. “I was with him when he bought the pair. Jim said his hands were soft from not working in so long; he needed gloves.”
At this discovery the men who had been talking quietly now showed open revolt. One fellow dropped a crowbar he had been carrying. It fell with a crash and seemed to startle them all into activity.
“Not quitting, are you?” the contractor asked, sneering. “Fine bunch of men, you are!”
“We sure are quitting, Mr. Callahan! We don’t mind ghosts; but when a man disappears in broad daylight, that’s too much.” It was the sinister Nick who spoke. Arden thought he seemed pleased at his announcement.
The men near by shook their heads in agreement, and some put on their coats as they prepared to leave.
The weary Callahan sank helplessly down on a pile of boards and pushed his hat back on his head. This, surely, was the last straw! The men straggled out of the old house. The girls followed them. In a little while the contractor also came out.