The lure of Piper's Glen — A Reader’s Guide

Millbrook was in the heart of the wilderness, thought of which appealed most to young Jim Todhunter, and there also seemed to be a business opportunity there. A Mr. Hammond carried on a business in timber and supplies at this pioneer outpost, where, according to his uncle's friend, there were moose, caribou, deer, and bear right at the door. No doubt Hammond would welcome as assistant a young American with a little capital, which might eventually be invested in the business, although, of course, salary would be meager to start with.

A rapid interchange of letters took place, and it ended in Hammond's writing to say he'd find a place for a young chap with some capital of his own--Jim's modest hundreds would go quite a way in the timber country. James's uncle's friend didn't know much of Hammond himself, but "splendid fellows, all of them, in those virgin lands: big hearted, big souled," he assured young Todhunter genially, and betook himself to his own affairs.

Thus it was that one September day young James Todhunter found himself being lurched along in the single passenger car of a single track railway, eventually to reach Covered Bridge, the end of iron of that particular system of transportation.

His baggage consisted of the pick of his late uncle's assortment and certainly impressed the station-master at Covered Bridge. Here was a picnic-basket, as large as a cabin-trunk and as full of ingenious complications as a lady's dressing-bag. Here was a collapsible bath and an Arctic sleeping-bag. Rifle and gun each reposed in a large case of hard, yellow leather. Here were boots for every phase of life in the North as imagined and experienced by his uncle, a trunkful of them. Here were fishing-rods in canvas cases--a rod for each of every size and variety of finny gamester, from the tarpoon to the sardine. The other necessities of life--clothing, sheath-knives, cases of razors, field-glasses, a photographic outfit, revolvers, a spirit-lamp, and so on--were contained in three large trunks and two smaller cases, also of leather.

The station-master, who was also the telegraph operator, was a busy young man. He had very little time to devote to Jim even after the engine had been reversed on a turntable and had gone away, pushing cars of sawn lumber and cord-wood before it. He walked around the pyramid of Jim's baggage on the open platform seven times, only to retire each time, without a word, to the little red shack that was evidently his office.

Jim sat on one of his boxes and waited for Mr. Hammond. He smoked cigarettes and surveyed the scene. The September sun shone bright upon the wooded hills, the rapid brown river, the narrow fields and the gray bridge. The foliage of maples and birches among the dark green and purple of the forests was showing patches and dashes of red and yellow. There was a pleasant tang in the air suggestive of wood-smoke and sun-steeped balsam and running water and frost-nipped ferns.

The station-master came out of his shack for the eighth time. Again he walked around the formidable pile of baggage. Then he paused and looked Jim in the eye.

"Waitin' for someone?" he asked.

"Yes, for Mr. Hammond of Millbrook," answered Jim.

"My name's Harvey White."

"Mine is James Todhunter."

Jim hadn't, and he said so: and White invited him into the red shack, where there was a stove with a fire in it. The kettle was singing. White made tea, set the table, brought a crock of baked beans from the oven and an apple pie from the pantry and pushed a chair against the back of Jim's legs.

"We can keep a look-out for Hammond through the window," he said.

Jim was hungry and the food vanished swiftly.

"Goin' into the woods from Millbrook?" asked White.

"Yes, I expect to, of course," replied Jim.

"Who's yer guide? The Ducats up to Piper's Glen are slick men in the woods, but it ain't always that any of 'em will take a sport into their country."

Young Todhunter started to explain, then stopped.

"Well, ye're after moose, I guess, ain't you?" added White.

"I hope to go after moose, of course, and whatever other game you have here--but my chief reason for coming is to work for Mr. Hammond," answered Jim.

The section of pie which White was raising to his mouth fell from the blade of his knife. He stared for a moment, then lowered his glance and his knife and resumed his interrupted consumption of pie.

"Why not?" asked Jim, who had two perfectly good eyes in his head.

"D'ye know him?" returned the other.

"I've never met him."

"Are you in business with him?"