"Just the man I'm looking for," sounded a hearty voice behind him. Whirling, he uttered a glad cry as he reached for David's outstretched hand. "I'm certainly glad to see you, Jean." "It is of a 'appiness to see you, M'sieu' David." Jean's weather-beaten face registered his joy. "Come with me, Jean. There's an apology for a hotel not far from the station. We'd better stay there to-night, then start for the lumber camp early to-morrow morning. It's a long hike, but I know you'd rather walk than ride. Once we've had some supper, I can tell you what little I know of this part of the country. Have you ever been up here before?" "Yep; 'bout five year ago, mebbe. I hunt up here a long winter. I know him." Jean indicated the forest beyond the village with a wide sweep of his arm. "Once, twice, after, I pass by him w'en I go an' come from Canada." "Then you _do_ know something about it? I'm mighty glad to hear that. But tell me about Oakdale and how you happened to pop up there just when we needed you most. Grace wrote me that she had tried to find you, but that you'd gone away." On the way to the hotel which David had mentioned, Jean recounted in his broken phraseology all that had happened to him since his return to Oakdale, while David listened and commented on the strange manner in which the news of Tom's misfortune had been brought before the old hunter. Over a plain but palatable supper Jean continued his narrative to the point where he had landed on the station platform. "An' now the hunt begin," he nodded. "To-morrow we get up 'fore it is light, then we go to camp. All 'long way I look an' remember w'at I see. After that you show me w'ere you go hunt. After that we fin' new places far away. We hunt till we fin' M'sieu' Tom." "That's the idea," applauded David. "I think we'd better turn in early at that. You must be dead tired. I know you don't like railway traveling. Did you take a sleeper here?" "I don't lak' him," shrugged Jean. "I sit up all night. In the woods never I am tired, but in the train, yes. It will be good to rest." After supper the two lingered for a while in the little room. Anxious to get the benefit of a good night's rest preparatory to their long tramp of the morning, it was not long before they climbed the narrow stairs to their rooms. Five o'clock the next morning saw them eating a hasty breakfast, served by a drowsy-eyed girl. After David had stowed into a knapsack an ample luncheon for the two, and slung the knapsack across one shoulder, the little search party went forth and soon left the village behind them for the rough road that marked the beginning of their long jaunt through the forest. Having traversed it many times since his advent into that territory, David was well posted, yet he knew it no better than did Jean. The sturdy old man seemed familiar with every phase of that section. Now and again as they progressed he retailed some interesting bit of history relative to his own wanderings therein.