any wolf straying around."

The dark man across the fire nodded.

"Did he hand a squeal before--he went?"

"Not a word. Hadn't time. Peter here didn't ast a thing either."

The youth laughed softly, and the man called Peter took up the story.

"Tain't no use arguin' with a feller loaded with kerosene in these
forests," he said, in a low grumbling way. Then he reached down and
snatched a brand from the fire and flung it out on the snow. His action
was followed swiftly by a wolfish howl of dismay. Then he again turned
his grizzled, whiskered face to the dark man beyond the fire. "You see,
Father, it's our job keeping these forests from fire, an' it ain't easy.
It don't much concern us who's out to fire 'em. That's for other folks.
The feller with kerosene in these forests is goin' to get the stuff we
ken hand him. That's all. Bob an' me got our own way fer actin'."

Bob laughed

"We sure have," he said. "But we don't allers pull it off. No. We've had
ten fires on our range in two weeks. We've beat the fires, but we ain't
smashed the 'bugs' that set 'em."

"Would they be all one feller? The feller that got it?" The dark man's
eyes were serious. His tone was troubled.

Peter shook his head.

"No, sir. There's more'n one, sure. An' from the things I've heerd tell
from the boys on the neighbourin' ranges it's happening all along
through our limits. They tell me there's queer things doin' an' no one
seems to locate the meaning right."

"What sort of things?"

The dark man spoke sharply. Peter's reply came after profound
deliberation.

"Oh, things," he said. Then he thrust a gnarled brown hand up under his
fur hood, and scratched his head. "There's our forest 'phones. They're
bein' cut. It's the same everywhere. There's most always things to break
'em happenin', but a break aint a cut. No. They're cut. Who's cuttin'
'em, and why? Fire-bugs. It ain't grouchy jacks. No. I've heerd the
jacks are on the buck in parts, but that ain't their play. There ain't a
jack who'd see these forests afire, or do a thing to help that way. You
see, it's their living, it's their whole life. We got so we can't depend
a thing on the 'phones. An' cut our forests 'phones and we're gropin'
like blind men."

"Yes."

The leaping flames were dropping, and Bob moved out to the store of
fuel. He returned laden, and packed the wood carefully to give the
maximum blaze. Then he squatted again, and again his hands were thrust
out to the warm