n the narrow hallway could have seen him bent
over a mass of papers on the table, his portable typewriter close at
hand.

The following morning, armed with a little hand satchel, he tramped down
to Henry Plant's house. The Supervisor met him on the verandah.

"Right on deck!" he roared jovially. "Come in! All ready for the
doctor!"

Thorne did not respond to this jocosity.

"Good morning," he said formally, and that was all.

Plant led the way into his office, thrust forward a chair, waved a
comprehensive hand toward the filing cases, over the bill files, at the
tabulated reports laid out on the desk.

"Go to it," said he cheerfully. "Have a cigar! Everything's all ready."

Thorne laid aside his broad hat, and at once with keen concentration
attacked the tabulations. Plant sat back watching him. Occasionally the
fat man yawned. When Thorne had digested the epitome of the financial
end, he reached for the bundles of documents.

"That's just receipts and requisitions," said Plant, "and such truck.
It'll take you an hour to wade through that stuff."

"Any objections to my doing so?" asked Thorne.

"None," replied Plant drily.

"Now rangers' reports," requested Thorne at the end of another busy
period.

"What, that flapdoodle?" cried Plant. "Nobody bothers much with that
stuff! A man has to write the history of his life every time he gets a
pail of water."

"Do I understand your ranger reports are remiss?" insisted Thorne.

"Lord, there they are. Wish you joy of them. Most of the boys have
mighty vague ideas of spelling."

At noon Thorne knocked off, announcing his return at one o'clock. Most
inspectors would have finished an hour ago. At the gate he paused.

"This place belong to you or the Government?" he asked.

"To me," replied Plant. "Mighty good little joint for the mountains,
ain't it?"

"Why have you a United States Forest Ranger working on the fences then?"
inquired Thorne crisply.

Plant stared after his compact, alert figure. The fat man's lower jaw
had dropped in astonishment. Nobody had ever dared question his right to
use his own rangers as he damn well pleased! A slow resentment surged up
within him. He would have been downright angry could he have been
certain of this inspector's attitude. Thorne was cold and businesslike,
but he had humorous wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Perhaps all
this monkey business was one elaborate josh. If so it wouldn't do to
fall into the trap by get