ide trail and camp and cook and fight fire any more.
I've got to get out into the world and rustle a home that a girl like
her can be happy in. I'm started at last. I want to do something. I'm as
ambitious as a ward politician!"

The supervisor smiled. "I get you! I'm sorry to lose you, but I guess
you are right. If you're bent on winning a woman, you're just about
obliged to jump out and try something else. But don't quit until I have
time to put a man in your place."

Hanscom promised this, although at the moment he had a misgiving that
the promise might prove a burden, and together they walked over to the
hall.

The crowded room was very quiet as the ranger and his chief entered and
took seats near the platform on which the coroner and his jury were
already seated. It was evident, even at a glance, that the audience was
very far from being dominated, or even colored, by the Shellfish crowd,
and yet, as none of the spectators, men or women, really knew the
Kauffmans, they could not be called friendly. They were merely curious.

Hanscom was somewhat relieved to find that the jury was not precisely
the same as it had been on the hillside. An older and better man had
replaced Steve Billop, a strong partisan of Kitsong's; but to
counter-balance this a discouraging feature developed in the presence of
William Raines, a dark, oily, whisky-soaked man of sixty, a lawyer whose
small practice lay among the mountaineers of Watson's type.

"He's here as Kitsong's attorney," whispered the ranger, who regretted
that he had not made greater efforts to secure legal aid. However, the
presence of his chief, a man of education and experience, reassured him
in some degree.

Carmody, rejoicing in his legal supremacy, and moved by love of drama,
opened proceedings with all the dignity and authority of a judge,
explaining in sonorous terms that this was an adjourned session of an
inquest upon the death of one Edward Watson, a rancher on the
Shellfish.

"New witnesses have been secured and new evidence has developed," he
said in closing, "and Mr. L. J. Hanscom, the forest ranger, who has
important testimony to give, will first take the stand."

Though greatly embarrassed by the eyes of the vast audience and somewhat
intimidated by the judicial tone of Carmody's voice, Hanscom went
forward and told his story almost without interruption, and at the end
explained his own action.

"Of course, I didn't intend to help anybody side-step