"S-some day—tall t-talkin'," he stammered, in a whisper, and then he began to laugh silently.
"Patted my cheek!" he whispered. Then he laughed again.
At the store he had filled his pack with flour, ham, butter, and like provisions for Lost River camp. At Annette's he had filled his heart with renewed hope and happiness and was now prepared for the summer. While he walked along he fell to speculating as to whether Annette could live under the same roof with Cynthia. A hundred times he had considered whether he could ask her, and as usual he concluded, "Ca-can't."
The hunter had an old memorandum-book which was a kind of storehouse for thought, hope, and reflection. Therein he seemed always to regard himself objectively and spoke of Strong as if he were quite another person. Before going to bed that evening he made these entries:
"June the 23. Strong is all mellered up.
"Snags."
With him the word "meller" meant to soften, and sometimes, even, to conquer with the club.
The word "snags" undoubtedly bore reference to the difficulties that beset his way.