Jim hadn't, and he said so: and White invited him into the red shack, where there was a stove with a fire in it. The kettle was singing. White made tea, set the table, brought a crock of baked beans from the oven and an apple pie from the pantry and pushed a chair against the back of Jim's legs.
"We can keep a look-out for Hammond through the window," he said.
Jim was hungry and the food vanished swiftly.
"Goin' into the woods from Millbrook?" asked White.
"Yes, I expect to, of course," replied Jim.
"Who's yer guide? The Ducats up to Piper's Glen are slick men in the woods, but it ain't always that any of 'em will take a sport into their country."
Young Todhunter started to explain, then stopped.
"Well, ye're after moose, I guess, ain't you?" added White.
"I hope to go after moose, of course, and whatever other game you have here—but my chief reason for coming is to work for Mr. Hammond," answered Jim.
The section of pie which White was raising to his mouth fell from the blade of his knife. He stared for a moment, then lowered his glance and his knife and resumed his interrupted consumption of pie.