rifted
into the Forest Service. Without being slothful, he had been foolishly
unaspiring, and he saw that now. "I must bestir myself," he said,
sharply. "I must wake up. I must climb. I must get somewhere."

He took close grip on himself. "Carmody must squeeze the truth out of
these youngsters to-morrow, and I must help him do it. If Brinkley can't
help, I must have somebody else." And yet deep in his heart was the
belief that the sight of Helen as she took the witness-chair would do
more to clear her name than any lawyer could accomplish by craft or
passionate speech.

At the door of Carmody's office he came upon Kitsong and a group of his
followers, waiting for him. Abe was in a most dangerous mood, and his
hearers, also in liquor, were listening with approval to the description
of what he intended to do to the ranger.

"You can't arrest a man without a warrant," he was repeating. "Hanscom's
no sheriff--he's only a dirty deputy game-warden. I'll make him wish he
was a goat before I get through with him."

Although to advance meant war, Hanscom had no thought of retreating. He
kept his way, and as the band of light which streamed from the saloon
window fell on him one of the watchers called out, "There's the ranger
now."

Kitsong turned, and with an oath of savage joy advanced upon the
forester. "You're the man I have been waiting for," he began, with a
menacing snarl.

"Well," Hanscom retorted, "here I am. What can I do for you?"

His quiet tone instantly infuriated the ruffian. Shaking his fist close
to the ranger's nose, he shouted: "I'll do for you, you loafer! What
right had you to arrest them kids? What right had you to help them
witnesses to the train? You're off your beat, and you'd better climb
right back again."

Righteous wrath flamed hot in the ranger's breast. "You keep your fist
out of my face or I'll smash your jaw," he answered, and his voice was
husky with passion. "Get out of my way!" he added, as Kitsong shifted
ground, deliberately blocking his path.

"You can't bluff me!" roared the older man. "I'm going to have you
jugged for false arrest. You'll find you can't go round taking people to
jail at your own sweet will."

The battle song in the old man's voice aroused the street. His
sympathizers pressed close. All their long-felt, half-hidden hatred of
the ranger as a Federal officer flamed from their eyes, and Hanscom
regretted the absence of his revolver.

Though lean and awkward, he