se jaunts
somebody must have seen him, for he came tearing into the hut late one
night saying, 'I am afraid they saw me! I hid in the woods until dark
for fear they would follow me. They must not see me nor find out where I
live. If they do, they will try to take you away again and then tell me
you are dead. They would not believe that you have come to life again.
If they ever come I will kill them.'

"After that he stayed in or near the shack for days. He was so upset for
fear someone would find me that instead of going around as usual without
saying much, he would talk all the time. He was cunning enough not to
talk loudly, though. He had a glimmer of sense even if he was crazy, for
he kept his voice down to a mutter. I dare say my broken leg would have
healed a good deal faster, if he had gone on giving me as good care as
he gave me at first. He wasn't anxious for me to get well. He used to
say, 'When you can walk again, you will have to stay shut up just the
same. If you go into the woods, they will see you and take you away.'

"Privately I made up my mind that as soon as I was well enough I
wouldn't wait for 'them' to 'take me away'; I'd go of my own accord. But
I had to be careful. As I've already told you he was a giant. He was at
least six feet three and strong as a gorilla. I often used to wonder who
he was and all about him. One day, about a week before you came, I
thought I'd try my damaged leg to see if I could use it. He was off on
one of his jaunts or I wouldn't have dared to try it. I found I could
hobble about a little and just for curiosity I lifted up the board in
the floor, not because I wanted to count his money, but to see what else
he kept in the little old-fashioned box he always took it from. All I
found besides the money was a battered photograph of a little boy. On
the back of it was written in a round, childish hand: 'To my father. You
little son, Wallace Lindsey, twelve years old.' I suppose it must have
been----"

Old Jean interrupted Tom's recital with a sudden ringing cry of, "It is
the wil' man! He hav' the name Lindsey. You remember, M'sieu' David, I
hav' tell you 'bout him!" In his excitement Jean leaped from the log,
Tom and David viewing him in amazement. "But w'en I hav' see his son, he
big man lak' his father."

"What do you know of him, Jean!" Tom's question was freighted with
eagerness. "It's evident you must know something."

"Do you mean, Jean, that you think this fellow is