smoke choked
him. He could hardly breathe. The roar of the fire was terrifying.
Hitherto he had felt no fear. Now a feeling of alarm suddenly seized him.
What if Lew had been overcome by smoke and burned in his absence? The
possibility had never occurred to him before.

"Lew! Lew!" he shouted at the top of his voice, and started along the line
of the fire. There was no reply. At least Charley heard none.

"Lew! Lew!" he cried. "Where are you?"

But no voice answered through the smoke.

"If he's down, I'll find him or die trying," muttered Charley to himself.

His face was grim and set as he started along the line of the fire again,
paying no heed to the flames but looking only for his chum. Every few
yards he stopped and shouted. But no answer ever reached him.

On he went, rod after rod, keeping as near the flames as he dared. He saw
nothing of his friend. He came to a point where a tongue of fire had run
far in advance of the remainder of the blaze. It seemed to be traveling
twice as fast as the rest of the flames.

"The header!" he cried to himself. "Here's where we ought to be at work.
But I must find Lew first. He certainly never got beyond this header."

Charley stopped and called. Again and again he shouted. There was no
response.

"Maybe he went back to look for me and I passed him in the smoke," thought
Charley. "I'll go back to the brook."

He turned to retrace his steps. Something suddenly flashed into flame
close beside him. It caught Charley's attention. He saw it was a pine
bough. Then he noticed that it had been freshly cut.

"It's Lew's brush," cried Charley. "He must have been here."

He sank on his knees close to the blazing bough, and heedless of smoke and
flame began to examine the ground carefully. He ran his fingers lightly
over the leaves, feeling for footprints. At first he found nothing. Then
he discovered the impression of a heel. He could not be certain which way
the footprint pointed.

With the heel mark as a centre, he began to feel about in a circle two or
three feet wide. He judged that would be the length of his chum's stride.
Twice he felt around the circle before he found a second footprint. It was
in the direction of the brook. He moved forward and searched where he
thought the third step should have fallen. Here he distinctly saw the mark
of a foot. When he rose to his feet his coat sleeve was beginning to smoke
and his face was blistered.

"Lew's gone back to the broo