He was coming through from the other side and had missed his way in the storm, he explained.
“What are ye by trade?”
“A trapper.”
“Where are ye bound now?”
“Well, I'll head for the nearest big settlement, whatever that is.”
“It's just above an even thing between Alexandria Bay and Ogdensburg.”
So Rolf inquired fully about the trail to Alexandria Bay that he did not want to go to. Why should he be so careful? The mill owner was clearly a good American, but the scout had no right to let any outsider know his business. This mill owner might be safe, but he might be unwise and blab to some one who was not all right.
Then in a casual way he learned that this was the Oswegatchie River and thirty miles down he would find the town of Ogdensburg.
No great recent events did he hear of, but evidently the British troops across the river were only awaiting the springtime before taking offensive measures.
For the looks of it, Rolf bought some tea and pork, but the hospitable mill man refused to take payment and, leaving in the direction of Alexandria Bay, Rolf presently circled back and rejoined his friends in the woods.