“I call myself a hunter and a woodsman. My cabin is a good many miles from any road and in the summer when the mountains are filled with tourists I remain near my own place. But now that the winter is approaching and the woods beginning to be deserted save by those of us who live here I roam about in search of food and change of scene.” “Have you always lived here?” Sally demanded with her accustomed bluntness. “Otherwise you must be in hiding because of some trouble or secret you wish to conceal.” For a moment the man stared in silence, either angry or amazed. “I have not lived here always,” he replied evasively, “but there are men in these woods who have been here since boyhood. One day you may meet a backwoodsman who is a great preacher here in God’s tabernacle of the outdoors. You have not told me why I find you in the forest when the autumn days are passing?” Sally shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, I am afraid you will not find this portion of your woods deserted for many months. With a number of other girls and some older friends we intend spending the winter in these hills. But good-day.” Stretching forth her hand, Sally took hold of the younger girl’s, intending to walk back to their own cabin. If their new acquaintance did not alarm her, there was something in his manner which rendered her uncomfortable. [Illustration: For a Moment the Man Stared In Silence] He was not glancing toward her at the present instant, but toward the little English girl. “Who taught you to sing in that fashion?” he inquired. “But there, that was a stupid question! No one could have taught a child like you. You have a great gift and for a little while were able to make me forget what I have not forgotten in many years. Some day I may again be your uninvited audience. Good-by.” Then the two girls stood watching the figure disappear into a denser portion of the woods, and Sally said with a little frown: “Odd! At first I was under the impression that our new acquaintance was a backwoodsman, I mean a man without an education except a knowledge of the outdoors, but now I am uncertain. In fact, I am sure he was once a different character of person and came to the forest to escape some sorrow or wrong doing. However, as I hate mysteries I trust we shall not meet him again; probably we never shall.” Since the encounter had really been of no importance and there were many other things on her mind, an hour later Sally had forgotten the occurrence. In truth, at the time it did not appear to her or to Chitty as of sufficient interest to mention to any member of the Camp Fire. During the afternoon for several hours Sally remained in the study in the smaller cabin working at her French and writing a letter in French to a member of the first Camp Fire club established in the city of Paris. Then, at a quarter before four, she disappeared to her own room, where she made a quick toilet and came down to the big living-room in the main cabin.