and lazy men took rangers' jobs those days. But I hung on
because I believed in it. And now I got the best job in the bunch. In
place of being looked down on as that old fool John, I'm Mr. Davidson,
the Forest Supervisor."

"It's a matter for pride," said Thorne non-committally.

"It isn't that," denied the old man; "I'm not proud because I'm
Supervisor. Lord love you, Henry Plant was Supervisor; and I never heard
tell that any one was proud of him, not even himself. But I'm proud of
being a _good_ supervisor. They ain't a sorehead near us now.
Everybody's out for the Forest. I've made 'em understand that it's for
them. They know the Service is square. And we ain't had fires to amount
to nothing; nor trespass."

"You've done good work," said Thorne soberly; "none better. No one could
have done it but you. You have a right to be proud of it."

"Then you'll be sending in a good report," said California John, solely
by way of conversation. "I suspicion that last fellow gave me an awful
roast."

"I'm not an inspector," replied Thorne.

"That so? You used to be before you resigned; so I thought sure you must
be now. What's your job?"

"I'll tell you when we have more time," said Thorne.

For three days they rode together. The Supervisor was a very busy man.
He had errands of all sorts to accomplish. Thorne simply went along.
Everywhere he found good feeling, satisfactory conditions.

At the end of the third day as the two men sat before the rough stone
fireplace at headquarters, Thorne abruptly broke the long silence.

"John," said he, "I've got a few things to say that are not going to be
pleasant either for you or for me. Nevertheless, I am going to say them.
In fact, I asked the Chief for the privilege rather than having you hear
through the regular channels."

California John had not in the least changed his position, yet all at
once the man seemed to turn still and watchful.

"Fire ahead," said he.

"You asked me the other day what my job is. It is Supervisor of this
district. They have appointed me in your place."

"Oh, they have," said California John. He sat for some time, his eyes
narrowing, looking straight ahead of him. "I'd like to know why!" he
burst out at last. A dull red spot burned on each side his
weather-beaten cheeks.

"I--"

"You had nothing to do with it," interrupted California John sharply; "I
know that. But who did? Why did they do it? By God," he brought his fist
down sharply,