CHAPTER V
A Conversation and a Loss
“I have not spoken to any human being in more than a month,” the stranger said in dull, even tones as if he were deaf.
“Why?” Sally Ashton inquired in her usual matter-of-fact fashion. “There are many people who come to the Adirondack forests and there are towns and villages and cities not many miles away. You must choose not to speak to anyone. Are you a hermit?”
The man answered slowly:
“I call myself a hunter and a woodsman. My cabin is a good many miles from any road and in the summer when the mountains are filled with tourists I remain near my own place. But now that the winter is approaching and the woods beginning to be deserted save by those of us who live here I roam about in search of food and change of scene.”
“Have you always lived here?” Sally demanded with her accustomed bluntness. “Otherwise you must be in hiding because of some trouble or secret you wish to conceal.”
For a moment the man stared in silence, either angry or amazed.
“I have not lived here always,” he replied evasively, “but there are men in these woods who have been here since boyhood. One day you may meet a backwoodsman who is a great preacher here in God’s tabernacle of the outdoors. You have not told me why I find you in the forest when the autumn days are passing?”
Sally shrugged her shoulders.
“Oh, I am afraid you will not find this portion of your woods deserted for many months. With a number of other girls and some older friends we intend spending the winter in these hills. But good-day.”