done. Probably that article had Jack's description in it.

He no longer felt that he had lost himself; instead, he felt trapped
by the very mountains that five minutes ago had seemed so like a
sheltering wall between him and his world. He wanted to get into the
deepest forest that clothed their sides; he wanted to hide in some
remote canyon.

He turned his head again and looked back. A man was coming behind him
down the pathway which served as a pavement. He thought it was the
tall man who had been reading about him in the paper, and again panic
seized him--only now he had but his two feet to carry him away into
safety, instead of his mother's big new car. He glanced at the houses
like a harried animal seeking desperately for some hole to crawl into,
and he saw that the little, square cottage that he had judged to be a
dwelling, was in reality a United States Forest Service headquarters.
He had only the haziest idea of what that meant, but at least it was a
public office, and it had a door which he could close between himself
and the man that followed.

He hurried up the walk laid across the neat little grass plot, sent a
humbly grateful glance up to the stars-and-stripes that fluttered
lazily from the short flagstaff, and went in as though he had business
there, and as though that business was urgent.

A couple of young fellows at wide, document-littered desks looked up
at him with a mild curiosity, said good morning and waited with an air
of expectancy for him to state his errand. Under pretense of throwing
his cigarette outside, Jack turned and opened the door six inches or
so. The man who had followed him was going past, and he did not look