Uncle Jeb and the boys generally made a weekly visit to the Inn. As he and Ol’ Pop had much to say to one another as a rule, Artie and Westy would try to kill time by getting Ollie to talk. Between them they would hurl a veritable barrage of questions at his poor, meek-looking head, until one would imagine he would answer, if only to silence them.
Nothing, however, seemed to perturb his calm in the least. He was utterly unaware that any one was speaking at all, except for an occasional flicker of interest, visible only when Ol’ Pop’s name was mentioned.
On this particular early summer morning, Artie and Westy were sitting on the spacious porch reading some letters from home and many from Temple Camp, when Pop Burrows remarked he had “fetched them from town nigh onto three days ago. Could jes’ as well o’ let Ollie take ’em up to ye, but I thinks to meself that you’d be down afore long.
“Ollie, he generally takes hisself off for long hikes in the afternoons. Sez he never gits tired o’ climbin’ the hills. When he fust came, Uncle Jeb used to say as how it was durn funny, a tenderfoot like Ollie never got tired o’ climbin’ the hills every afternoon jes’ for pleasure. Well, after thet, I kinda feels Ollie out once ’n fer all. I sez, ‘Ollie, how come yer so fond of roamin’ the hills every day, you thet’s a tenderfoot?’ ‘Well,’ he sez to me, ‘I been brought up in de city; never outside it till I comes here, and when me woik is done I likes to go off by me lonesome with me pipe and sit quiet, that’s all.’ Thet’s all he ever told me about hisself,” continued Pop, “no more ’n no less. After thet we never bothered him and he never bothers us.” He looked toward Uncle Jeb as if for verification of his story.
Uncle Jeb nodded his assent between puffs of his pipe. Then he arose quietly as Ollie came around from the back of the Inn, leading the two mules who were bearing a fresh supply of provisions for the scouts.
Taking their leave of Ol’ Pop they were soon on their way, walking single file where the trail narrowed. Presently Westy called to Artie and told him of the word he had received from home.
They also talked of the news which they had heard from Temple Camp and this Uncle Jeb listened to with interest.
Roy Blakeley wrote that, as usual, Pee-wee Harris was doing good turns; that is, he started out to do them, but rarely accomplished his purpose without a series of mishaps intervening. “At any rate,” Roy concluded, “we’re not a bit envious of you fellows out there (Oh, no!) so long as we have Scout Harris to disturb the calm of a hot summer’s day.”
Just then they came out into the clearing by Eagle Lake and Uncle Jeb suggested that they sit for a while and rest, when their eagle friends announced their advent with a series of screeches.
Instead of disappearing beyond the cliff this time, one flew into a small hollow just underneath the precipice.