g his other
hand to us, called out cheerily:

"How are you, boys? Glad to see you! You're welcome--more than welcome!"

"Hurt, Peter?" cried Joe, running forward and throwing himself upon his
knees beside the injured man.

"A trifle. No bones broken, I believe, but pretty badly bruised and
strained, especially the right leg above the knee. I find I can't
walk--at least not just yet."

"How did you escape the slide?" I asked.

"Why, I had warning of it, luckily. I was up pretty early this morning
and was just about to leave the house, when a dab of snow--a couple of
tons, maybe--came down and knocked off my chimney. I knew what that
meant, and I didn't waste much time, you may be sure, in getting out. I
grabbed my rifle and ran for it. I was hardly out of my door when the
roar began, and you may guess how I ran then. I had reached almost this
spot when down it came. The edge of it caught me and tumbled me about;
sometimes on the surface, sometimes on the ground; now on my face and
now feet uppermost, I was pitched this way and that like a cork in a
torrent, till a big tree--the one Sox is sitting on, I think--slapped me
on the back with its branches and hurled me twenty feet away among the
rocks. It was then I got hurt; but on the other hand, being flung out of
the snow like that saved me from being buried, so I can't complain. It
was as narrow a shave as one could well have."

"It certainly was," said I. "And did you hold on to the rifle all the
time?"

"Yes; though why, I can't say. The natural instinct to hold on to
something, I suppose. But how is it you are on hand so promptly? It did
occur to me as I lay here that one of you might notice that there had
been a slide and remember me, but I never expected to see you here so
soon."

"Well, that was another piece of good fortune," I replied. "Joe saw the
slide come down and rode a four-mile race to come and tell me. We did
not lose a minute in getting under way, and we haven't wasted any time
in getting here either. But now we are here, the question is: How are we
going to get you out?"

"Where do you propose to take me?" asked Peter.

"Down to our house."

For a brief instant the hermit looked as though he were going to demur;
but if he had entertained such an idea, he thought better of it, and
thanked me instead.

"It's very good of you," said he; "though it gives me an odd sensation.
I haven't been inside another man's house for years."

"Well, don'