lithographs. Four men played
cards. They hardly glanced at the newcomer. Bob deciphered Forest
Reserve badges on three of them.

As he emerged from this joint, his eyes a trifle dazzled by the light,
he made out drawn up next the elevated platform a buckboard containing a
single man. As his pupils contracted he distinguished such details as a
wiry, smart little team, a man so fat as almost to fill the seat, a
moon-like, good-natured face, a vest open to disclose a vast white
shirt, "Hullo!" the stranger rumbled in a great voice. "Any of my boys
in there?"

"Don't believe I know your boys," replied Bob pleasantly.

The fat man heaved his bulk forward to peer at Bob.

"Consarn your hide!" he roared with the utmost good humour; "stand out
of the light so I can see your fool face. You lie like a hound!
Everybody knows my boys!"

There was no offence in the words.

Bob laughed and obligingly stepped one side the lighted doorway.

"A towerist!" wheezed the fat man. "Say, you're too early. Nothing doing
in the mountains yet. Who sent you this early, anyway?"

"No tourist; permanent inhabitant," said Bob. "I'm with Welton."

"Timber, by God!" exploded the fat man. "Well, you and I are like to
have friendly doings. Your road goes through us, and you got to toe the
mark, young fellow, let me tell you! I'm a hell of a hard man to get on
with!"

"You look it," said Bob. "You own some timber?"

The fat man exploded again.

"Hell, no!" he roared. "Why, you don't even know me, do you? I'm Plant,
Henry Plant. I'm Forest Supervisor."

"My name's Orde," said Bob. "If you're after Forest Rangers, there's
three in there."

"The rascals!" cried Plant. He raised his voice to a bellow. "Oh, you
Jim!"

The door was darkened.

"Say, Jim," said Plant. "They tell me there's a fire over Stone Creek
way. Somebody's got to take a look at it. You and Joe better ride over
in the morning and see what she looks like."

The man stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "Oh, hell!" said he
with deep feeling. "Ain't you got any of those suckers that _like_ to
ride? I've had a headache for three days."

"Yes, it's hard luck you got to do anything, ain't it," said Plant.
"Well, I'll see if I can find old John, and if you don't hear from me,
you got to go."

The Supervisor gathered up his reins and was about to proceed when down
through the fading twilight rode a singular figure. It was a thin, wiry,
tall man, with a face like ta