Explore "Tom Slade at Bear Mountain" by Percy Keese Fitzhugh on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Tom and Brent stared at each other. The footfalls approached nearer and nearer, sounding clear upon the brittle underbrush which obscured the beaten track to the door; clear as footsteps on a pavement, as the driving wind which rattled the door and window, bore the sound to the cabin.
Just as the sound ceased, Brent drawled in his usual half-interested manner, "Come in, the place is yours."