Tom Slade at Bear Mountain by Percy Keese Fitzhugh

The whole thing seemed so preposterous -- so _story like_, in this prosaic age. As I see the whole thing now I realize that the trouble was with me and not with Tom. Anyway, what actually did happen in that wild, remote spot up in the Bear Mountain Reservation was a great deal more thrilling and astonishing than what Tom believed might happen. He who laughs last, laughs best; though to be sure it was no matter for laughter.

A few days after I saw the newspaper article, Tom and Brent went up to camp in Rattlesnake Gulch. I believe they obtained permission from the authorities up there to use poor old Buck Sanderson's deserted cabin. Perhaps Tom's position at Temple Camp made this easy to secure. There could not have been much objection, I think, for of all the remote and forlorn places that ever were, Rattlesnake Gulch was certainly the most uninviting. It certainly had real wildness, primitive wildness indeed, and held out, I suppose, that attraction to the camper. No one was likely to molest the sojourner there.