“That is queer,” agreed McBride. “Of course it might be some short cut, but— What the deuce is the matter with you, Rit?”
A sharp, half smothered exclamation from the stout chap made them all turn quickly, but for a moment Ritter did not answer. With jaw sagging and eyes wide and startled, he was staring at one of the grimy windows on the upper floor of the gray house from which, a second before, he had glimpsed a face peering down at them.
A heavy, pendulous face it was, of a curious and pronounced pallor. It hovered there for an instant and disappeared so swiftly that Cavanaugh, following the direction of Ritter’s frightened gaze, was in time to catch only the white flash of its vanishing.
CHAPTER XXV
THE MAN WITH NO HAIR
“There is someone there, after all, then!” exclaimed Cavvy quickly. “What did he look like, Rit?”
Ritter’s gaze, still wide and nervous, swept along the row of broken or shuttered windows, returning quickly to the one near the corner. “I—I don’t know, exactly,” he answered. “White and fat and—and sort of queer looking. Let’s get out of here, fellows. This beastly place gives me the creeps.”
“But we can’t go without finding out about the trees,” protested McBride. “It would be a shame to let them go.”
“Of course it would,” agreed Cavvy impatiently. “We’ve got to— Well, now what’s the matter?”
Ritter started slightly and withdrew his wandering gaze from the gaunt outlines of the great barn. “N—nothing,” he stammered. “I thought I—saw something—moving down there, but I guess I didn’t. What are you going to do now?”
“Knock at the door and ask him if he’s willing to sell his trees for Government use,” returned Cavanaugh tersely. “Nobody can eat us for doing that.”