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CHAPTER XXXI THE FIRE LOOKOUT

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vaulting easily into their saddles, the boys lost no time in starting homeward, but so hard had they ridden to reach waterville to file their claim that they were compelled to spare their ponies on the return.

earnestly did they discuss the words of the registrar, speculating as to whether or not they really had committed a fraud and discussing the other surprising features of their interview with the official.

“well, it’s some satisfaction to know our application protects us until word is received from washington,” ted finally declared. “it will block the game those claim-jumpers are trying to play.”

“i hope so. it doesn’t seem as though simmons, knowing we were friends of silas hopkins, would dare to grant entry to whomsoever they are, now that we have put in our claim.” descending darkness caused the boys to give all their attention to guiding their ponies until they realized that the animals were cleverer at keeping the road than they were themselves, and after they made this discovery, they devoted their senses to listening. for it was their first night in the saddle, alone, and they feared surprise both by men and wild beasts.

without mishap, however, they finally reached their hut, where to their delight they found andy. and eagerly they poured out their troubles to him.

“we’ll attend to this business in the morning. go to bed now. you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

before dawn, however, the rain began to come down in torrents, percolating the thatched roof and compelling the young homesteaders and their guest to spread ponchos, blankets, and anything they could find to keep the water from their beds and from the food.

as later they looked out upon a rainy day, ted’s heart sank.

“everything’s either soaked or damp and nasty,” he complained. “the fire won’t burn enough to cook anything decently and we can’t work.”

“never mind the work part of it,” returned andy. “this rain will do a world of good. before harvest time you will probably be praying for a third as much of a downpour. we’ll find enough to do, don’t worry. what do you say to going fishing?”

“i say ‘no,’” replied phil. “if you are not going to do anything about our claim, i’m going over to see mr. jay.”

at this announcement the others laughed heartily.

“i must think before i act,” said andy.

“mr. jay doesn’t care any more about seeing you than you do about seeing him. if i were going to shirk all the chores, i’d at least tell the truth,” grinned his brother. but phil had fled from the water-soaked shakedown at the first words.

“you going too?” inquired andy.

“not much. if my letter paper isn’t wet, i shall write home. if it is, i may ride over and give jennie another lesson.”

“you boys aren’t very keen on fishing, evidently,” commented andy, as he overhauled his tackle.

“i never caught but two fish in my life. one was a ‘pumpkin seed’ and the other was a smelt. it took me four days to get them and i must have tramped thirty miles.”

“you’ll find it’s different out here. if you followed this brook thirty miles—which you can’t because it’s only about ten from source to lake—you’d have more fish than you could carry. better come.”

but ted was not to be persuaded, and after they had finished the chores, andy set out, leaving ted writing.

in their letters to their mother the boys had refrained from mentioning the shooting of the bear and the incidents of the fateful dinner, fearing to alarm her, and ted was busy explaining to her about the irrigation system when he heard hoof-beats.

wondering who could be coming, he went to the door, and beheld a rubber-clad chap of about thirty, tall, lithe, and well set up, his face tanned by sun and wind, calmly leading his horse under the animal shelter.

“pray make yourself perfectly at home,” called the boy, sarcastically.

“thanks,” returned the other, smilingly ignoring the slur. “i am chester, of the forest patrol. how long have you been here? i’ve noticed your smoke for several days, but this is the first rainy day i’ve had to leave my station to investigate.”

“my name is porter. come in. my brother and i have had a rather rough time with strangers, which accounts for my uncivil greeting. i thought you patrolmen investigated every smudge as soon as you saw it.”

“the patrolmen do, if it is on their route. i only said i belonged to the forest patrol, i’m a lookout.”

“what’s that?”

“i have a station on the top of bear mountain from which i can cover about a thirty-mile radius. whenever i see smoke, i report it to the patrolman in whose section it lies, or to the nearest settler who has a ’phone, if our man is out on his route.”

“hasn’t been any one here.”

“because i didn’t report it, it is off the regular route. i noticed the smoke showed and died down at certain periods, never gaining in volume, so i decided it was some new entryman. it being rainy, however, i rode down to make sure.” the appearance and bearing of his visitor was so self-reliant, ted felt that he was no enemy and did his best to be agreeable, telling him about his mother and sisters and the robbery, finally deluging him with questions concerning the life on the station.

in love with his work, as all the forest patrol are, chester talked of it so interestingly that ted began to envy him.

“it must be bully knowing you are guarding millions of dollars worth of lumber and the lives of so many people,” he declared enthusiastically. “still, i should think you’d get lonesome off up there by yourself, but i suppose you read a lot.”

“i’m too busy watching for fires except when it rains, and then i usually have a trip to make, either like looking up a smudge or repairing a telephone. but a fellow can’t be lonesome among the trees and mountains, if he loves them.”

“how long are you on duty?”

“from snow-going to snow-coming. i sleep when i can. that is, when i can’t see any smoke, i take a nap for half an hour, watch again, then take another nap, and so on. but why not ride back with me? never seen a lookout station, have you?”

“never, and i’d like to immensely. but let’s eat before we go.”

“it sure will be good to taste grub i haven’t cooked myself,” declared chester, as he ate with keen relish. “you’re some cook, if you made that pie.”

“i didn’t. a friend of ours gave it to us.”

“then you know joy?”

“yes. we were taken there after we had been drugged, and she kept us several days.”

“let’s be on our way,” said chester, rising so suddenly that ted looked at him in surprise. but it was not until long afterwards, when the lookout and the young homesteader were fast friends, that the boy learned the action was caused by the knowledge that the girl had bestowed some of her far-famed cooking upon strangers while she had always refused to give any to chester, whom she had known all her life.

“what a glorious view!” cried ted, turning to look back as, for the first time in his life, he passed beyond the timber-line of a mountain.

“it is superb. but wait until you get to my nest. it’s wonderful from there.”

when they reached the summit, however, the wind was blowing so that they lost no time in entering the octagonal cabin, one end of which was used for a stable.

extending full across each side, about four feet from the floor, was a window, two feet high, enabling the lookout to sweep the country with his telescope.

“i should think you could see better if the windows were taller,” commented ted.

“some of the winds i get would break them in a minute. as it is, i often am obliged to put up the shutters and stand outside.”

in the centre of the cabin was a big table upon which lay a quantity of report blanks, paper, and a detail map of the country, within the radius of the lookout’s station, showing ponds, lakes, rivers, towns, highways, railroad tracks, homesteads, and lumber camps, and giving the names of all settlers, with a code mark against those who had telephones. in other places were instruments for measuring the velocity of the wind, gauging the rainfall and the like.

resting on a chair was a planed and polished piece of wood with a line running through the centre lengthwise, and another crosswise, to which an arrow, free to move in any direction, was attached.

“that’s a traverse board,” explained chester. “i’ll show you how it works. first look under the map. see those marks on the table? they are the points of the compass. when you use the traverse board, you first ‘orient’ it, that is, place it that its bearing is true with the points of the compass, the needle pointing north. now sit down. take my telescope and look, say, south. suppose you see smoke, but can’t exactly locate it. you clamp the arrow to the traverse board, the point toward the smudge, so. next, you put the map with my station directly over the centre of the traverse, that red dot which i’ve marked, so. now stick a pin through my lookout and into the centre of the board, then twist the map until its north and south line covers the north and south line of the board, so. take the range-finder, place its bevelled edge against the pin, raise the sight, no, keep the one with that upright hair away from your eye, and look at your smoke again. with the tables and marks you can quickly get the range and locate it on the map.”

for several minutes ted squinted along the sights, glanced at the range tables and then at the map.

“i should say it was about there,” he said, putting his finger on a spot south of bear mountain.

“too bad it isn’t pleasant, you might find a real fire to practise on.”

“but i have found one. my eye! but the smoke is getting thick. yes, i’m sure it’s where i pointed on the map.”

at first the lookout had believed his visitor to be pretending that he had discovered a forest fire, but as he heard his last words, he pushed him from the chair and sighted along the rangefinder.

“you’re right! you’ve located it, porter. it’s on carl petersen’s quarter.”

and springing to his telephone, chester called for connection with the man who was jasper jay’s nearest neighbour, with the exception of the young homesteaders.

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