10/11 If there's a hermit I'm going to see him. If there's...." He paused suddenly in his musing, listening. It was the distant voice of a scout returning to camp. He was singing one of those crazy songs that he was famous for. Tom looked up beyond the supply cabin and saw him coming down, twirling his hat on a stick, hitching up one stocking as often as it went down--care-free, happy-go-lucky, delightfully heedless. |