then again among the great pines, where the underbrush was
so thick that you could not tell what might be just before, till they
pulled up at the old Lumber Camp. The boys always paused at the ruins of
the old Lumber Camp. A ruin is ever a place of mystery, but to the old
Lumber Camp attached an awful dread, for behind it, in the thickest part
of the underbrush, stood the cabin of Alan Gorrach.

Alan's was a name of terror among all the small children of the section.
Mothers hushed their crying with, "Alan Gorrach will get you." Alan was
a small man, short in the legs, but with long, swinging, sinewy arms.
He had a gypsy face, and tangled, long, black hair; and as he walked
through the forest he might be heard talking to himself, with wild
gesticulations. He was an itinerant cooper by trade, and made for the
farmers' wives their butter-tubs and butter-ladles, mincing-bowls and
coggies, and for the men, whip-stalks, axe handles, and the like. But
in the boys' eyes he was guilty of a horrible iniquity. He was
a dog-killer. His chief business was the doing away with dogs of
ill-repute in the country; vicious dogs, sheep-killing dogs, egg-sucking
dogs, were committed to Alan's dread custody, and often he would be seen
leading off his wretched victims to his den in the woods, whence they
never returned. It was a current report that he ate them, too. No wonder
the boys regarded him with horror mingled with fearful awe.

In broad day, upon the high road, the small boys would boldly fling
taunts and stones at Alan, till he would pull out his long, sharp
cooper's knife and make at them. But if they met him in the woods they
would walk past in trembling and respectful silence, or slip off into
hiding in the bush, till he was out of sight.

It was always part of the programme in the exploring of the Lumber
Camp for the big boys to steal down the path to Alan's cabin, and peer
fearfully through the brush, and then come rushing back to the little
boys waiting in the clearing, and crying in terror-stricken stage
whispers, "He's coming! He's coming!" set off again through the bush
like hunted deer, followed by the panting train of youngsters, with
their small hearts thumping hard against their ribs.

In a few minutes the pine woods, with its old Lumber Camp and Alan's
fearsome cabin, were left behind; and then down along the flats where
the big elms were, and the tall ash-trees, and the alders, the flying,
panting line sped on in a