Keeping at what they thought was a safe distance, the two boy
hunters called loudly half a dozen times. No answer was returned.

"Perhaps he's deaf," suggested Whopper.

"More likely he doesn't want to show himself."

"Maybe it's a she, Shep."

"Possibly. If it's a woman she must be a regular witch. Let us
call again."

They did so. At first they heard nothing in return. Then came
a strange sound from the cabin, and for one brief instant a dark,
impish face showed itself at the broken window. Then the face
disappeared and a stone came whizzing toward the lads' heads. They
ducked just in time, or one or the other might have been seriously
hurt.

"Let's get out---no use of staying here to be a target!" cried
Whopper, who was growing nervous. "No telling what that fellow---or
woman---may do next. Might come for us with a carving knife!"
And he hurried away, with the doctor's son beside him. They did
not slacken their pace until the dilapidated cabin had disappeared
from view.

"Did you see him---or her?" asked Shep.

"Just about and no more. What a dried-up, hateful face!"