The dark eyes were full upon Bruce's face. He felt them--just as if they had the power of actual physical impact--the instant that he was inside the door. Nor was it the ordinary look of careless speculation or friendly interest. Mountain men have not been taught it is not good manners to stare, but no traveler who falls swiftly into the spirit of the forest ordinarily resents their open inspection. But this look was different. It was such that no man, to whom self-respect is dear, could possibly disregard. It spoke clearly as words. Bruce flushed, and his blood made a curious little leap. He slowly turned. His gaze moved until it rested full upon the man's eyes. It seemed to Bruce that the room grew instantly quiet. The merchant no longer tied up his bundles at the counter. The watching mountain men that he beheld out of the corners of his eyes all seemed to be standing in peculiar fixed attitudes, waiting for some sort of explosion. It took all of Bruce's strength to hold that gaze. The moment was charged with a mysterious suspense. The stranger's face changed too. He did not flush, however. His lips curled ever so slightly, revealing an instant's glimpse of strong, rather well-kept teeth. His eyes were narrowing too; and they seemed to come to life with singular sparkles and glowings between the lids. "Well?" he suddenly demanded. Every man in the room--except one--started. The one exception was Bruce himself. He was holding hard on his nerve control, and he only continued to stare coldly. "Are you the merchant?" Bruce asked. "No, I ain't," the other replied. "You usually look for the merchant behind the counter." There was no smile on the faces of the waiting mountain men, usually to be expected when one of their number achieves repartee on a tenderfoot. Nevertheless, the tension was broken. Bruce turned to the merchant. "I would like to have you tell me," he said quite clearly, "the way to Mrs. Ross's cabin." The merchant seemed to wait a long time before replying. His eye stole to the giant's face, found the lips curled in a smile; then he flushed. "Take the left-hand road," he said with a trace of defiance in his tone. "It soon becomes a trail, but keep right on going up it. At the fork in the trail you'll find her cabin." "How far is it, please?" "Two hours' walk; you can make it easy by four o'clock." "Thank you." His eyes glanced over the stock of goods and he selected a few edibles to give him strength for the walk. "I'll leave my suitcase here if I may," he said, "and will call for it later." He turned to go. "Wait just a minute," a voice spoke behind him. It was a commanding tone--implying the expectation of obedience. Bruce half turned. "Simon wants to talk to you," the merchant explained. "I'll walk with you a way and show you the road," Simon continued. The room seemed deathly quiet as the two men went out together.