enough to live on; and you got
your salary docked without any reason or justice; and you had to stand
one side while the other fellows did things dishonest and wrong; and it
didn't look as though it was ever going to get better. Nine years is a
long time. Why did you do it?"

"I don't know," muttered California John.

"It was just waiting for this time that is coming. In five years we'll
have the people with us; we'll have Congress, and the money to do
things; we'll have sawmills and water-power, and regulated grazing, and
telephone lines, and comfortable quarters. We'll have a Service
safeguarded by Civil Service, and a body of disciplined men, and
officers as the Army and Navy have. It's coming; and it's coming soon.
You've been nine years at the other thing--"

"It's humiliating," insisted California John, "to do a job well and get
fired."

"You'll still have just the job you have now--only you'll be called a
head-ranger."

"My people won't see it that way."

Ashley Thorne hesitated.

"No, they won't," said he frankly at last. "I could argue on the other
side; but they won't. They'll think you've dropped back a peg; and
they'll say to each other--at least some of them will: 'Old Davidson bit
off more than he could chew; and it serves him right for being a damn
fool, anyway.' You've been content to play along misunderstood for nine
years because you had faith. Has that faith deserted you?"

California John looked down, and his erect shoulders shrunk forward a
little.

"Old friend," said Thorne, "it's a sacrifice. Are you going to stay and
help me?"

California John for a long time studied a crack in the floor. When he
looked up his face was illuminated with his customary quizzical grin.

"I've sure got it on Ross Fletcher," he drawled. "I done _told_ him I
wasn't no supervisor, and he swore I was."

PART FOUR

I

When next Bob was able to visit the Upper Camp, he found Thorne fully
established. He rode in from the direction of Rock Creek, and so through
the pasture and by the back way. In the tiny potato and garden patch
behind the house he came upon a woman wielding a hoe.

Her back was toward him, and a pink sunbonnet, freshly starched,
concealed all her face. The long, straight lines of her gown fell about
a vigorous and supple figure that swayed with every stroke of the hoe.
Bob stopped and watched her. There was something refreshing in the
eagerness with which she attacked the