“There will be a sudden and mysterious disappearance if you don’t,” said Jim darkly. By this time they had climbed into clear view of Jeems’ cabin.
“Somebody has thrown a rock at your castle and caved the roof in, Jeems,” declared Tom.
“Lucky I wasn’t home,” replied Jeems philosophically.
“It does look like an ancient ruin,” said Jim, as they finally reached the little shelf on which the cabin was built.
The passing years had evidently done their worst, a large boulder had come down from the mountain above and crashed the roof in. The rudely built chimney had been partially destroyed, and rats and squirrels were making themselves at home. Jeems stood looking sadly at his former cabin, for Jeems had a strain of sentiment in him and he had spent three interesting and quite happy years at this spot.
“It’s kind of like Rip Van Winkle returning home after his long absence, isn’t it?” inquired Jo.
“Only I don’t see my faithful dog,” replied the shepherd, waking from his reverie.
“You must have built here for the view, Jeems,” remarked Jim.
“I used to sit out here on the shelf many a summer evening,” said Jeems, “and look off towards the east till it got dark. I suspect that’s what helped to make me kind of dreamy; those years.”
“Shouldn’t wonder,” said Jim.