"That's where we're going, Jack," said Darragh cheerfully.
"That's your place, isn't it?"
"It is. But I don't want Eve to know it. … I think it better she should not know me except as Hal Smith — for the present, anyway. You'll see to that, won't you?"
"As you wish, Jim. … Only, if we go to your own house——-"
"We're not going to the main house. She wouldn't, anyway. Clinch as taught that girl to hate the very name of Harrod — hate every foot of forest that the Harrod game keepers patrol. She wouldn't cross my threshold to save her life."
"I don't understand, but — it's all right — whatever you say, Jim."
"I'll tell you the whole business some day. But where I'm going to take you now is into a brand new camp which I ordered built last spring. It's within a mile of the State Forest border. Eve won't know tat it's Harrod property. I've a hatchery there and the State lets me have a man in exchange for free fry. When I get there I'll post my man.
It will be a roof for to-night, anyway, and breakfast in the morning, whenever you're ready."
"How far is it?"
"Only about three miles east of here."