“No, I don’t know that there was,” spoke Tom more slowly and thoughtfully. “But did Whalen say why he wanted to know all that?”
“No, not definitely. He did mention, though, that he might look for a job somewhere up North, and I suppose that was why he asked so many questions.”
“Maybe,” said Tom, in a low voice. Then he did some hard thinking.
In due time Hemlock Junction was reached. This was the end of the train journey, and the boys piled out with their baggage, their guns and cameras. It was cold and snowing.
“I guess that’s our man over there,” remarked Tom, indicating a person in a big overcoat with a fur cap and a red scarf around his neck. “Does he look as though his name was Sam Wilson?” asked our hero of his chums.
“Why Sam Wilson?” asked Jack.
“Because that’s the name of the man who was to meet us and drive us over to camp,” Tom said.
The man, with a smile illuminating his red face, approached.
“Looks to be plenty of room in the pung,” remarked Tom.
“What’s a pung?” asked George.