They saw several bales of hay, showing dimly against the field, another deserted wagon, and an indistinct figure.
“Hello!” exclaimed Victor.
As he spoke the form began to rise, and, to their utter astonishment, continued to rise until it stood high above the bales, and so high that both uttered an exclamation.
“Great Scott!” breathed Victor. “Why—why——”
“Say, who are you?”
A shrill childish treble came from the towering figure, which immediately began to move around the barricade of bales toward them. The boys watched him with breathless interest.
“Say, who are you?”
They craned their necks to look up at the face that gazed into theirs, but the obscurity was so great that neither could determine the age, the character, or the appearance of the singularly tall being whose voice resembled that of a fourteen-year-old boy.
“I say—what’s the matter? Who are you, anyway?”
The third inquiry came in petulant, piping tones.