“Course your folks will let you go, Step. Make ’em, make ’em!... Yes, yes; I tell you there’s a special reason. Biggest chance that ever happened!... No, no; I can’t tell you now, but we’ll get the gang to the club, and you’ll have the whole story.... No, no--just bring along your snow-shoes.... But you’ve got to come--every fellow’s got to!... What’s that?... Sure, there’s a clue!... No; I shan’t talk over the wire.... Get permission to come along; that’s all you need worry about.... Say, hang up now, won’t you? I want to catch Poke and the rest before any of ’em go out for the evening.” Mr. Parker smiled quizzically. “My dear lady,” he said, “I confess that I find difficulty in comprehending the mental processes of your son.” His wife gave a little sigh. “Ah! Sam is too much for me sometimes. And this is one of the times. But”--and her face brightened--“but I’m confident he has some excellent reason for setting his heart on this expedition.” “Well, I hope so, at least,” said Mr. Parker, rather resignedly. CHAPTER XXII TOM ORKNEY CHANGES HIS INTENTION There are three ways in which one may travel from Plainville to the woods about Payne Stream. One is partly by rail, involving a jolting journey over the branch line to a flag-station, and then a trip over roads which quickly dwindle to trails. The other routes are by highways, neither being direct. Mr. Parker, choosing the more promising of the two, brought his party in sight of the No. 1 camp in mid-afternoon. The pace had been very moderate, but rather because Mr. Parker spared his horses than because of hard going. In the more thickly settled districts the sleighing was excellent, while the last lap of the journey was over a “tote road,” worn smooth by the passage of sledges carrying supplies to the lumbermen. Midway there had been a stretch, over which travel evidently had been very light. Here, as Lon explained to the boys, was a district of abandoned farms, some of whose houses, fast falling into ruin, he pointed out to them. Then he indicated groves of flourishing young trees, growing on land which within his memory had been under cultivation, and philosophized a little on the “hard grubbin’” on the hill farms. Wrapped in their fur coats, Mr. Parker and Mr. Warren shared the front seat, and afforded shelter for the other passengers. The rear seats had been removed from the sleigh, and Lon and the boys filled the bottom of the vehicle, with plenty of straw and robes to keep them warm. On the whole they did very well; though it is not to be denied that they were quite willing to alight and stretch their legs when the sleigh drew up at the door of a big log hut, low but long and with an ell at the rear. Smoke was curling from two chimneys, one in the middle of the main building and the other in the ell, but nobody was in evidence. When Mr. Parker raised a shout, however, the door opened, and out came a thick-set, ruddy, middle-aged man, in sweater, corduroys and heavy boots.