known man throughout the whole region, and would be likely to gain
admittance if any one could. But all wished the hour had been less
early.

However, somebody was up in the picturesque place. A small trail
of smoke could be seen hovering above its single chimney, and
promptly upon Mr. Sloan's approach, a rear door swung back and an
old man showed himself, but with no hospitable intent. On the
contrary, he motioned the intruder back, and shouting out some
very decided words, resolutely banged the door shut.

Mr. Sloan turned slowly about.

"Bad luck," he commented, upon joining his companions. "That was
Deaf Dan. He's got a warm nest here, and he's determined to keep
it. 'No visitors wanted,' was what he shouted, and he didn't even
hold out his hand when I offered him the letter."

"Give me the letter," said Reuther. "He won't leave a lady
standing out in the cold."

Mr. Sloan handed over the judge's message, and helped her down,
and she in turn began to approach the place. As she did so, she
eyed it with the curiosity of a hungry heart. It was a compact
structure of closely cemented stone, built to resist gales and
harbour a would-be recluse, even in an Adirondack winter. One end
showed stacks of wood through its heavily glazed windows, and
between the small stable and the west door there ran a covered way
which insured communication, even when the snow lay high about the
windows.