Stanley, still puzzled, willingly fell in behind Bub and soon came up with Abner, who stood with head uplifted and slowly revolving on his heel.
He gave no sign of seeing the youths, but muttering to himself started away at a hurried pace, only to slow down to the long mechanical stride. Then again did he look over their heads and moving his lips begin to slowly turn about as he had before.
“Bub,” whispered Stanley, “this is becoming serious. Is he crazy, or is he looking for timber to make into stands?”
Bub’s eyes were watery and he placed a finger on his lips to impose silence. Abner shot one frowning glance at the boy’s mischievous face and shaking his head and grumbling led on into the forest. For some half a dozen times he went through his peculiar movements and each time did Stanley find his curiosity increasing as well as his fears.
Finally Abner returned to the starting point and peeling a piece of bark from a birch began figuring rapidly.
Finishing he raised his head and pursed his lips in satisfaction. “It will average five thousand to a stand right here. The first fifty trees will figger that easy,” he informed.
