Up ahead was a big wooden structure, and I pulled off the road. We got out, and as we walked up the path, the door opened and a young man waved to us and said, "Welcome. Did you have a good journey?"

Kate replied, "Yes, thank you."

We climbed the steps to the rustic building, and the casually dressed young man said, "I'm Jim." We all shook hands, setting the tone for our stay in this place, which I guessed was friendly, homey, and probably silly. Jim said, "Come on in."

We entered the building, which was the resort office and also a gift shop selling Adirondack artwork and some pricey-looking apparel, which caught Kate's attention.

Women, I've noticed, are easily distracted by clothing stores, and I was certain that the ladies on the Titanic stopped at the ship's apparel shop for the Half-Price Sinking Sale on their way to the lifeboats.

Anyway, we got past the clothing, and we all sat in comfortable chairs around a table. Jim opened our file and said, "Here's a message for both of you." He handed me a card on which was written in pen, "Call." From, "Mr. Walsh." Time: 7:17 P.M.

Since I didn't recall either Kate or I telling Tom Walsh where we were staying, I reasoned that Walsh must have recently learned this from Major Schaeffer. No big deal, but I needed to remind myself that Walsh and Schaeffer were in touch.

I gave the card to Kate, then glanced at my cell phone and saw there was no service. I asked Jim, "Are you totally out of the cell service area?"

"It comes and goes. The best service is when you stand in the middle of the croquet field." He thought that was funny and chuckled, informing me, "Sometimes you get service if you stand at the point."

I couldn't resist and inquired, "What's the point, Jim?"

He cleared things up by answering, "Whitney Point on Upper Saranac Lake. It's here on the property." Jim cautioned us, "Actually, we discourage the use of cell phones on the property."

"Why is that, Jim?"

"It detracts from the ambience."

"Figures. Are there phones in the room?"

"There are, but you can't get an outside line."

"Why are they there, Jim?"

"To communicate within the property."

"Am I cut off from the world?"

"No, sir. There is an outside phone in this office, and one in the kitchen of the Main Lodge, which you may use. If anyone calls here-as Mr. Walsh did-we'll get a message to you."

"How? Smoke signals?"

"By note, or on your room phone."

"Okay." This had an unexpected upside, as well as a downside considering all the calls we needed to make in the next day or two.

Jim continued with the check-in and said, "Two nights. Correct?"

"Correct. Where's the bar?"

"I'll get to all that in a moment." He went through his rap, pushing printed information toward us, along with a souvenir picture book of The Point, a map of the property, and so forth.

Jim asked me, "How will you be settling your account?"

"How about a duel?"

"Sir?"

Kate said to Jim, "Credit card." She said to me, "John, why don't you use your personal card, rather than the corporate card?"

"My credit card was stolen."

"When?"

"About four years ago."

"Why didn't you replace it?"

"Because the thief was spending less than my ex-wife."

No one else seemed to think this was funny. I gave Jim my government R and I Associates corporate card, and he took an imprint.

He marked our map with a highlighter, saying, "If you follow this road, past the warming hut and the croquet field, you'll come to the Main Lodge. Charles will be waiting for you there."

"Where's the bar?"

"Right across from the Main Lodge, in the Eagle's Nest. Right here-" He put a big X on the spot. "Enjoy your stay with us."

"You, too."

We left the office and Kate inquired, "Why do you have to be such a boor?"

"Sorry."

"No, you're not. Are we going to call Walsh?"

"Sure. Where's the croquet field?"

We got in the car and proceeded down the road, passing the warming hut, whatever the hell that is, then drawing abreast of the croquet field, at which point I asked, "Do you want me to run out there and call Walsh?"

"No. Charles is waiting."

At the end of the road was a big log structure with a front porch-the Main Lodge-from which another young gentleman, dressed in a tie and jacket, was waving to us. I pulled up, and we got out.

The young fellow bounded down the steps, greeted us, and introduced himself as Charles, adding, "I believe I spoke to Mr. Corey earlier."

"You did."

He made a joke and said, "We've fed the bears."

"Great. Can you feed us?"