been converted into convenient hooks, while attached here and there near the ceiling were several rustic, nest-like receptacles, showing a fringe of grass and leaves. As Frank and Constance entered this strange shelter there had been a light scurrying of shadowy forms, a whisking into these safe retreats, and now, as the strangers stood in the cheerful glow of the fire and the sputtering pine-knot, they were regarded not only by the hermit, but by a score or more of other half-curious, half-timid eyes that shone bright out of the vague dimness behind. The ghostly scampering, the shadowy flitting, and a small, subdued chatter from the dusk enhanced in the minds of the visitors a certain weird impression of the place and constrained their speech. There was no sensation of fear. It was only a vague uneasiness, or rather that they felt themselves harsh and unwarranted intruders upon a habitation and a life in which they had no part. Their host broke the silence. "You must needs pardon the demeanor of my little friends," he said. "They are unaccustomed to strangers." He indicated the settle, and added: "Be seated. You are weary, without doubt, and your clothes seem damp." Then he noticed the basket and the large fish at Frank's belt. "A fine trout," he said; "I have not seen so large a one for years." Frank nodded with an anxious interest. "Would you like it?" he asked. "I have a basketful besides, and would it be possible--could we, I mean, manage to cook a few of them? I am very hungry, and I am sure my companion, Miss Deane, would like a bite also." Constance had dropped down on the settle, and was leaning toward the fire--her hands outspread before it. "I am famished," she confessed, and added, "oh, and will you let me cook the fish? I can do it quite well." The hermit did not immediately reply to the question. "Miss Deane," he mused; "that is your name, then?" "Yes, Constance Deane, and this is Mr. Frank Weatherby. We have been lost on the mountain all day without food. We shall be so thankful if you will let us prepare something, and will then put us on the trail that leads to Spruce Lodge." The hermit stirred the fire to a brighter blaze and laid on a fresh piece of wood. "That will I do right gladly," he said, "if you will accept my humble ways. Let me take the basket; I will set about the matter."