"Queer, ain't it?" said Pete.
They all agreed that it was, but not one could hit upon an explanation that seemed plausible.
Suddenly, Buck, who had been sniffing suspiciously for a few seconds, gave a sharp exclamation.
"Do you fellows smell anything?"
"No——" began Jack, and then:
"Good heavens, yes! Something's on fire!"
"That's right," agreed Pete, without a quaver in his voice. "The varmints hev set fire to the building from the rear."
"That's what!" rejoined Buck, "and we can't get within a mile of them. I don't suppose there are any rifle holes in the specie room are there, Mr. Geisler?"
"Nodt a vun," rejoined the German, in a peculiar voice, and then they noticed, in the gloomy light of the closed-up place, that his face was ashen white.
It was clear that the German was badly frightened. His knees seemed to be knocking together, in fact. Small wonder, too. The sharp, acrid smell of blazing wood was in the air now. They could hear the crackle of the flames as they devoured the wooden outer walls of the specie room.