“Yes. We were taken there after we had been drugged, and she kept us several days.”
“Let’s be on our way,” said Chester, rising so suddenly that Ted looked at him in surprise. But it was not until long afterwards, when the lookout and the young homesteader were fast friends, that the boy learned the action was caused by the knowledge that the girl had bestowed some of her far-famed cooking upon strangers while she had always refused to give any to Chester, whom she had known all her life.
“What a glorious view!” cried Ted, turning to look back as, for the first time in his life, he passed beyond the timber-line of a mountain.
“It is superb. But wait until you get to my nest. It’s wonderful from there.”
When they reached the summit, however, the wind was blowing so that they lost no time in entering the octagonal cabin, one end of which was used for a stable.
Extending full across each side, about four feet from the floor, was a window, two feet high, enabling the lookout to sweep the country with his telescope.
“I should think you could see better if the windows were taller,” commented Ted.
“Some of the winds I get would break them in a minute. As it is, I often am obliged to put up the shutters and stand outside.”
In the centre of the cabin was a big table upon which lay a quantity of report blanks, paper, and a detail map of the country, within the radius of the lookout’s station, showing ponds, lakes, rivers, towns, highways, railroad tracks, homesteads, and lumber camps, and giving the names of all settlers, with a code mark against those who had telephones. In other places were instruments for measuring the velocity of the wind, gauging the rainfall and the like.
Resting on a chair was a planed and polished piece of wood with a line running through the centre lengthwise, and another crosswise, to which an arrow, free to move in any direction, was attached.