In a birch woods, on the eastern slope of the divide, stood the log camp, dimly visible in the silvery light of early morning.
Darragh, cautioning Stormont with a slight gesture, went forward, mounted the rustic veranda, and knocked at a lighted window.
A man, already dressed, came and peered out at him, then hurried to open the door.
"I didn't know you, Captain Darragh——" he began, but fell silent under the warning gesture that checked him.
"I've a guest outside. She's Clinch's step-daughter, Eve Strayer. She knows me by the name of Hal Smith. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir——"
"Cut that out, too. I'm Hal Smith to you, also. State Trooper
Stormont is out here with Eve Strayer. He was a comrade of mine in
Russia. I'm Hal Smith to him, by mutual agreement. Now do you get
me, Ralph?"
"Sure, Hal. Go on; spit it out!"
They both grinned.
"You're a hootch runner," said Darragh. "This is your shack. The hatchery is only a blind. That's all you have to know, Ralph. So put that girl into my room and let her sleep till she wakes of her own accord.