“Hello,” he called as soon as she came within hearing distance. “Are you the young lady in charge of renting these cabins which I see?”
Kit admitted that she was. He nodded his head approvingly and smiled, a broad pleasant smile which seemed to include the entire landscape.
“I like it here,” he announced with emphasis. “It is sequestered and silent. I have not met a single car on the road for miles.”
“Oh, that happens often,” said Kit eagerly. “There are days when nobody passes at all except the mailman.”
“It suits me,” he exclaimed buoyantly. “I must have quiet and perfect relaxation. I will rent one of your cabins and occupy it at once. I have been touring this part of the country looking for a spot which appealed to me.”
“We have one on the hill over there,” Kit suggested. He seemed rather peculiar, and perhaps it would be just as well to have him as far off as possible. “It is right on the edge of the pines, and faces the west. The sunsets are beautiful from there.”
“No, no,” he repeated. “I like the sound of water. I hear falls below here. I will take that cabin I see over there.”
So the first cabin dweller came to Woodhow. Kit had still been in doubt, and taking no chances on strangers within the gates, she had guided Mr. Ormond up to her father to make the closing arrangements on renting the waterfall cabin. The most amazing part was that he left a check that first day for full rental for ten weeks.
“I must not be interrupted or bothered by little things,” he told Mr. Craig. “I must have perfect isolation or I cannot do my work.”
He arrived promptly the following day and arranged to put up the car in their garage. Tommy and Jack helped him move his things into the cabin.