g presence.

In vain had the cowboys on the ranch assured them that wolves were very
scarce in this part of the forest, especially in the summer, and that
they had had an unusual and unique experience. As Amy had said, one
experience like that was enough to last a lifetime.

They came in sight of the cabin without mishap, however, and they
tethered their horses a little farther from the house than usual, so
that their stamping and neighing might not frighten the hermit away.

Then they made their way with as little noise as possible along the
narrow path.

"Suppose he isn't at home?" whispered Mollie to Betty.

"Then we're out of luck, that's all," returned Betty cheerfully.

But the hermit was at home. They could see him moving about, and as they
came nearer they smelled an appetizing odor of frying bacon, as though
he were cooking his dinner.

"Hope he asks us to stay to lunch," said Grace, and the girls giggled
nervously.

"We'll be lucky if he doesn't slam the door in our faces," said Amy
pessimistically.

It was Mollie who knocked this time--and it was no timid little rap
either, but a good, hearty rat-at-tat, that brought the occupant of the
cabin to the door in a hurry. He had the frying pan still clutched in
his hand and on his long narrow face was such a look of dread that the
girls felt sorry for him.

"Well," he said, the emotion within him making his voice sound stern and
forbidding, "what is it you wish? It is not raining to-day as it was
that other time." He gazed significantly up at the cloudless sky seen in
little blue patches through the trees, and the girls flushed, partly
from embarrassment and partly from anger. Somehow, they had not been
prepared to have him take this attitude, and they resented it.

For a moment they stood miserably tongue-tied. Even their usually
quick-witted Little Captain seemed suddenly to have been stricken
speechless. They were just about to turn and run when Mollie saved the
day for them.

Pushing forward through the group she confronted the man on the door
step.

"_Vous etes Paul Loup, n'est-ce pas, monsieur?_" she said in a clear
voice, gazing up at him fearlessly.

While the girls gasped at her temerity a most astounding thing happened.
The man dropped the frying pan and it clattered to the floor, its
contents spilling out greasily. While they looked he seemed to crumple,
shrivel, and his eyes stared at them glassily out of his white mask of a
face.