"Well, from what you say, Ginger, this queer visitor seems to have had a very human weakness for crackers," remarked Mr. Garrabrant, smiling. "Was he carrying that package of biscuit when you saw him first?"
"Yas, suh, dat an' two more ob dem same. He drap it 'case he couldn't hold de lot, an' walk away too. Yuh see, suh, I war cleaning some fish dat de boys dey fotched in las' ebenin', an' which we nebber use foh breakfast dis mornin'. Den I tink I hyah some queer noise in de camp, an' I starts up dis a ways. 'Twar den dat de hairy ole critter steps outen de store tent, and jabbers at me. I was skeered nigh 'bout stiff, suh, 'clar tuh goodness I was."
"Still, you shouted, for we heard you, Ginger!" said Mr. Garrabrant.
"Reckons I did do sumpin' dat way, boss," admitted the negro, a faint grin striving to make its appearance on his ebony face. "Dat was jes' when de Ole Harry, he was asteppin' into de bushes, acarryin' two ob de boxes ob crackers in his arms."
"Do you mean to say he walked erect, on two legs?" asked the scout master.
"Shore he did, suh, right along, ahuggin' de grub wid one arm, an' shakin' his fist at me wid de udder."
"Now you talk as though it must have been a man—perhaps a wild man who may have been living in these woods for years?" suggested Mr. Garrabrant.
But Ginger shook his head in an obstinate fashion, saying:
"I knows right well dat he wa'n't dat, suh; I'se dead suah 'bout it!"
"But why do you say that; what proof have you it was not some sort of man, Ginger?"