The agent, after gruffly asking for her checks, vanished into his office and banged the door.

There was nobody else about, and the place was very quiet except for the murmur of running water.
A narrow clearing, strewn with ashes and dotted by blackened stumps, ran along the track, and at its end were three or four shabby frame houses.
A rudely painted board on one stated that the building was the Strathcona Hotel.

Agatha felt very forlorn.

Except for a week or two with Thirlwell, and once with a band of merry companions at a summer camp she had not seen the rugged bush, and now it daunted her.

She was not going on a pleasure excursion, from which she could return when she liked, but to push far into the lonely wilds.