The hermit, however, seemed to have never heard the name before. He only said, idly:
"Fred Hatfield, eh? You his sister?"
"No, sir. I am Ruth Fielding," she replied.
"Ruth Fielding? Don't know her. She's not belongin' around here. No. Well, how'd you get here? And with Sim's mules?"
Ruth told him briefly, but without bringing Fred Hatfield's trouble into the story. They had got aboard the timber cart at the crossing, the mules had run away, the panther had taken a ride with them and—here they were!
The hermit merely nodded in acknowledgment of the tale. His questions dealt with her alone:
"Where do you belong?"
"The party I was with are bound for Snow Camp. Do you know where that is, sir?" Ruth asked.
"Not ten miles away. Yes."
"They will be worried"
"I will get you over there before bedtime. Go up to my house and wait. This boy and I will stable the mules in my barn; it's just along the road here. Sim will follow the beasts and find them; but he'll be some time in getting along. He lives along this road himself—not far, not far. Ah!"
The old man talked mostly as though he spoke
