Forrester now jumped down from his car and strode across the road to take a closer view of the tree and its surroundings. The tree stood back from the road a few feet, and an open grass-covered space surrounded it for a distance of about ten feet. Beyond this clear space were thick undergrowth and young saplings, and a little farther back the woods began. From the road to the tree was a well-defined pathway. As Forrester approached the tree he found that this pathway wound around it and led off toward the right through the thick woods.
The opening referred to in the demand he had received was noticeable at once—a hole about a foot high by six or eight inches across. It had probably been caused by some fungus growth or insects eating into the tree and gradually rotting away part of the wood. The opening was about four feet from the ground and Forrester had to stoop slightly to put his arm into it. The space inside was comparatively small. Forrester was under the impression that oak trees were seldom, if ever, affected in this way, but as he felt around, digging his fingers into the rotting wood, there seemed no reason to believe that the opening was other than a natural one. While his arm was still inside the tree, Forrester was startled to hear a voice close behind him, for he had not heard anyone approach.
"What yo'all doin' dere?"
Forrester withdrew his hand and turned swiftly to find himself facing a coal black negro. Though Forrester was himself a tall man he found that he had to slightly raise his eyes to look into those of the man before him. They looked each other over for a moment and then the negro repeated his question.
"What yo'all doin'?"
"I don't know that that's any of your business," said Forrester.
"Dat's all right, Boss. Ah don't mean no offense. Dat tree done have a bad name, an' us folks aroun' yere has begun to kinda keep our eyes open."
"Well," inquired Forrester, "what do you think I'm doing at the tree?"
"Ah dunno, Boss. Dat's what Ah'm tryin' to fine out."
There was a slight pause as the two men again looked each other over. To Forrester, the negro, in spite of his size, appeared to be really a harmless individual. Possibly he was a gardener in the vicinity. The negro on his part could see that Forrester was a gentleman, and therefore hardly likely to be one of the supposed blackmailing gang who had made this tree famous for miles around. His changed attitude was clearly apparent in the manner in which he next addressed Forrester.