"Even if it turns out to be a pair of spitting young bobcats," he concluded, "I'd like to snap 'em off. As to a child, what would one be doing away up here in this wilderness, unless—by George, now, that might be it."
He had suddenly remembered how they found the little cap, yes, and a baby silver thimble in the cabin.
It was no trouble at all to locate the source of the sounds. The sobs continued as he advanced. In a few minutes Phil was gazing with considerable surprise upon a figure outstretched on the ground.
He could see it was a little girl, possibly four years old. She had golden curls, and when she looked up suddenly at hearing his footsteps Phil discovered that she was as pretty as a fairy.
Just then she looked a little forlorn, since her face was soiled from the dirt, and tears had made furrows down her cheeks.
She scrambled to her feet, and seemed hardly to know whether to try and run away, or put her childish trust in this strange boy.
Now Phil was always a favorite with younger children. They all loved him because he had such a pleasant face, engaging laugh, and seemed to know just how to appeal to a child's heart.
Few boys care to bother with little tots; they only appear as a nuisance in their eyes. Phil, however, was different.
"Hello! here, little girl, what's all the trouble about?" he asked, cheerily; and somehow there must have been magic in his voice, for the look of fear left the child's face immediately.
She recognized a friend in need. As a rule children, just the same as most dogs do, have an instinct that tells them who to trust.