“Is that a house up there?” he asked, turning to the girl, who sat leaning forward and looking steadily down at him.

“That is the hotel.”

“A road must lead to it, then. If I could get up there, I could send down for my things.”

“They is no one thar,” piped the boy; and Thryng remembered the brakeman’s words, and how he had rebelled at the thought of a hotel incongruously set amid this primeval beauty; but now he longed for the comfort of a warm room and tea at a hospitable table. He wished he had accepted the bishop’s invitation. It was a predicament to be dropped in this wild spot, without a store, a cabin, or even a thread of blue smoke to be seen as indicating a human habitation, and no soul near save these two children.