“Jean LeBlanc!”
The others echoed the name of their Nemesis after Dick.
“What’s that, did you speak of LeBlanc?” inquired the hermit.
“That’s just what we did,” replied Garry grimly. “That man you described, unless we are very badly mistaken, was Baptiste, a brother of Jean. And if Jean is on the way, we must guard ourselves every minute. And we must make every moment count, for once he gets here he will make strenuous efforts to get us in trouble, if not on his own hook, then in cahoots with Barrows. Now let’s break for the small lake. Suppose you stay with us a few days, Hermit, and help us in our work.”
“No, that would not be good tactics,” was the reply of the hermit. “It would cause trouble to you boys with that man who wished me lodged in durance vile.”
As was usual, the words of the hermit were anything but those that would be naturally used by a man that had lived the greater part of his life in the deep woods, far removed from all human beings. But the aged hermit was always surprising them, if not by his talk, by his unusual actions.
Garry had often thought that the old man was wise in his conclusions, so he asked what could be suggested.
“I would say that you should go to the manager and tell him that I had been offended by my reception and consequently had refused to stay and visit you, going off in a huff. Then that will give me a chance to return to the forest and watch for the coming of LeBlanc. I will guarantee that I will not be captured again. I was too sure of myself last night, since I did not know that the camp was full of night spies, who held rendezvous in the dark of the night. I will warn you in the usual way if LeBlanc approaches. In the meantime, my instinct tells me that the man with whom you quarreled, Garry, is not to be trusted. Watch him. Now I will go if you will give me some food to carry with me for breakfast. I am hungry.”
“There’s one thing I wish you would do first, Hermit,” said Garry, calling him by the only name they knew, and which appeared to please rather than offend the old recluse, “and that is go to the nearest town and mail a letter for us. There is no one in the camp now that I would trust with a message, and none of us who could get away. I should have thought to do it yesterday when Howells left, but forgot it in the excitement of his being discharged.”
Borrowing Dick’s ever ready notebook, Garry scribbled off a brief note to his father, advising him to check carefully the shipments of timber, and telling him in guarded words, that he had several clues that properly trailed down would soon lead to the unmasking of the traitors in the camp. He folded the note and gave the hermit money with which to buy a stamped envelope, and on another leaf of paper wrote the address to which the note should be sent.