Enter Big Jerry

"I should say that you did. You make me feel small, and it's not often
any man does that ... physically, I mean."

The two clasped hands, and Donald winced as his own powerful fingers
cracked under the crushing pressure of those of the older man, who
seemed to take a boyish delight in this display of his tremendous
strength.

"What a colossus he is," thought Donald, as he gritted his teeth to keep
back the involuntary exclamation of pain, for, although the massive
shoulders and Jovian head of the mountaineer were stooped forward, he
towered fully three inches above the six foot city athlete, and his
iron-gray beard, rusted with tobacco juice about his mouth, swept over
his chest almost to his waist.

"Thanks for the invitation," he said aloud, as he covertly nursed his
right hand. "It's mighty kind of you, but I don't want to impose longer,
and, besides, I'd better start back to Fayville before it gets dark
altogether. If you'll just tell me the most direct way, ..."

"Wall, I reckon the most _dee_rect way air ter go straight through the
woods thar a piece, an' then jump off'n a four hundred foot cliff," the
old man chuckled titanically. "But I likewise reckon taint pra'tical;
leastwise, not onless yo' happen ter be one o' them new-fangled
aviationeers I've hearn tell on. However, here ye be, an' here yo're
goin' ter stay twill atter supper. Come, child. Sot on another plate fer
the doctor man."