“I’m glad of that,” said the man with a smile.  “That’s a good cat of mine.  I haven’t had her very long, but I wouldn’t want a dog to hurt her.  But your dog seems to be scratched,” went on the man, as he looked carefully and saw some more red spots of blood on Zip’s nose.

“Yes, your cat scratched him,” returned Russ.  “I guess Zip won’t chase her any more.”

“I guess not,” the red-haired man agreed.  “So you had an upset, did you?” he went on as he noticed the overturned cart.  “Did either of you get hurt?”

“No, thank you,” answered Russ.  “We fell on the soft grass.”

“That’s good,” returned the man.  “I suppose you belong up in the big house, though I haven’t seen you before, and I didn’t know there were any children up there.”

“No, we don’t live in the big house,” said Russ, for the man had pointed toward the residence of Mr. Barker.  “We live over at Lake Sagatook—­I mean we’re visiting Grandma Bell—­and we came to see you.  We’re two of the six little Bunkers.”

“Oh, you’re two of the six little Bunkers, are you?” asked the man.  “Well, if the other four are as nice as you I’d like to see them.  You say you came to see me?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Russ.  “You’re the lumberman, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, I used to be a lumberman when I could get work at it,” answered the man standing in the cabin door.  “I know how to cut down trees and all that sort of thing.”

“And you have red hair,” added Russ.

“Yes, you’re right, I have got red hair,” and the lumberman ran his fingers through it as though to pull out some and make sure it had not changed color.

“Is your name Mike Gannon?” asked Russ.

“That’s my name, little Bunker—­I don’t know your first name.”

“It’s Russ, and his is Laddie,” and Russ pointed to his brother.

By this time the cat, seeing that Zip was not going to chase her any more, had taken the arch out of her back and her tail looked like a small frankfurter sausage, and not like a big bologna one.

“Well, Russ and Laddie Bunker, I’m glad to see you,” said Mr. Gannon.  “And so you live over at Lake Sagatook, and not here at Green Pond.  Why did you come so far?”

“To see you,” answered Russ.

“To see me!” exclaimed the red-haired lumberman in surprise.  “Well, I’m no great sight to look at, that’s sure.  But still I’m glad to see you.  Are you sure you wanted me?”

“You’re red-haired,” said Russ slowly, as though going over certain points.

“That’s right,” said the lumberman.

“And you cut down trees,” went on Russ.

“Correct.”

“And were you ever a tramp?” Russ asked.

“Well, yes, you could call me that,” admitted the red-haired man, speaking slowly.  “I’m a sort of tramp lumberman.  I never like to stay long in one place, and so I’m roving all over.  You could call me a tramp.”