“It sounds very easy,” said Charley, “but I am willing to confess that handling these tough looking mountaineers is more than I counted on.”

“Are you going to quit so soon?” asked the forester with scorn.  “I thought you had more stuff in you than that, Charley.”

Charley turned red.  “Who said anything about quitting?” he demanded.  “I only want to know what I am to do if I get into trouble with the men.”

“That’s more than I can tell you.  It’s up to you as a ranger to find the ways to manage your men.  But I can tell you this.  It is always best to follow Mr. Roosevelt’s plan and speak softly but carry a big stick.  Be kind to the men.  Be square with them.  Play no favorites.  Look after their interest.  But don’t let them loaf on the job.  They expect to have to work, and they won’t have much respect for a man who doesn’t hold them to their task.  After all, they are not very different from horses.  They have to be driven if they are to work.”

“I suspect some of them will be hard to drive,” said Charley, “if the few I have seen hereabout are good samples.”

“It all depends upon how you get started with them.  Don’t let them get away with you.  Let them know you are the boss.  And remember this:  as a ranger you have power to hire and fire these men.  If it comes to a show-down, don’t hesitate to fire a man.  We’re short-handed, but we can much better afford to lose a laborer than to have an entire crew spoiled.”

“Thank you,” said Charley.  “I feel better already.  If you don’t mind, I’m coming to you before each new job and get you to show me exactly how it should be done.  A fellow can get along so much better if he really knows what he is talking about.”

“Good boy,” smiled the forester.  “I don’t believe I am going to be disappointed in you, Charley.”

Charley shook the forester’s hand and started back to his new habitation, which he reached just as supper was ready.

After supper he and the ranger talked about the forest.  Or rather Lumley did.  He was so loquacious that Charley soon stopped talking and let his companion carry on the conversation alone.  Lumley was quite able to do it, for he was truly, as Mr. Marlin had described him, mouthy.  He had something to say about everything, and what he had to say was usually of a derogatory character.  He was guarded in what he said about Mr. Marlin, yet Charley saw that he was trying to damn the forester by faint praise.

“You may make a good ranger in time all right,” he said bluntly to Charley, “but it seems mighty funny to me to take a raw high school boy and put him in charge of the finest stand of timber in the entire forest.  I’m the man that post ought to go to.  Besides, I have a greater interest in that timber than any one else.”

Charley choked back his resentment at the statement about himself and asked, “Why have you a greater interest in that timber than any one else?”