But Swickey vanished through the doorway into the summer night.
CHAPTER III—MUCH ADO ABOUT BEELZEBUB
Fourteen of the fifteen men, who arrived at Avery’s camp that afternoon, came into the woods because they had to. The fifteenth, David Ross, came because he wanted to. Ever since he could read he had dreamed of going into the woods and living with the lumbermen and trappers. His aunt and only living relative, Elizabeth Ross, had discouraged him from leaving the many opportunities made possible by her generosity. She had adopted the boy when his father died, and she had provided for him liberally. When he came of age the modest income which his father’s estate provided was transferred from her care, as a trustee, to him. Then she had offered him his choice of professions, with the understanding that her considerable fortune was to be his at her death. She had hoped to have him with her indefinitely, but his determination to see more of the woods than his summer vacations allowed finally resolved itself into action. He told her one evening that he had “signed up” with the Great Western Lumber Company.
Protests, supplications, arguments were of no avail. He had listened quietly and even smilingly as his aunt pointed out what seemed to her to be the absurdities of the plan. Even a suggested tour of the Continent failed to move him. Finally she made a last appeal.
“If your income isn’t sufficient, Davy, I’ll—”
He interrupted her with a gesture. “I’ve always had enough money,” he replied. “It isn’t that.”
“You’re just like your father, David,” she said. “I suppose I shall have to let you go, but remember there is some one else who will miss you.”
“Miss Bascomb has assured me that we can never agree, on—on certain things, so there is really nothing to keep me here,—except you,” he added in a gentler tone, as he saw the pained look on her kindly old face. “And you just said you would let me go.”
“Would have to let you go, Davy.”
“Well, it’s all the same, isn’t it, Aunt Bess?”