“I can’t tell you where our camp is,” rapped out Lew, “because that is a secret that we are not supposed to tell.  The forester does not want anybody to know that Charley is employed by the forestry department.  We are posing as fishermen.  Tell the fellows not to talk about Charley and tell Charley’s father the forester does not want it known for a time that Charley is a fire patrol.  He thinks that we have a better chance to find things out if it is not known that we are connected with the forestry department.”

Willie said that he would caution the boys and tell Mr. Russell.  Also he said he would be in his workshop until supper time and would listen in most of the time.  The club members would be at their instruments as usual to catch the time from Arlington and pick up some of the news.  Lew replied that he would call Willie then, if he needed him.

For some time after Lew laid down the receivers, the two boys worked silently.  They finished setting the hemlock branches in the earth, placed the stuffed ticking above them, and laid their blankets in position.  They brought the wireless outfit into the tent and set the instruments in a corner.  The grub was stacked in another corner.  A little pool was dug in the stream just below the spring, to make a place for washing dishes.  Their extra clothes were hung on the ridge-rope.  The first-aid kit was fastened to the tent wall where it would be handy, and Charley put the permanganate and the hypodermic syringe in his pocket.

They had almost completed their task, when a low whistle was heard outside the thicket.  The pup pricked up his ears and was about to bark.  Lew grabbed him and held his jaws together.  Then both boys sat silent, listening and looking questioningly at each other.  Soon the whistle was repeated.

“We’ve got to find out who’s whistling,” said Charley.  “Keep the pup quiet and I’ll slip out and take a look.”

He left the tent, but had hardly gone ten feet before a voice cried, “Hello, Russell!  Are you in the thicket?  This is Morton, the ranger.”

“Sure we’re here,” replied Charley, an expression of relief coming on his face.  “We didn’t know who it was and kept quiet until we could take a look.  I’m coming out now.”

He hurried from the thicket and shook hands warmly with the newcomer.  Instinctively he knew that he was going to like his ranger.  Big, broad-shouldered, quite evidently powerful, with a kindly expression, a winning smile, and a deep voice that instantly created confidence, the ranger was a picture of honest manhood.  No one could look into his deep blue eyes, set far apart, or examine the lines on his face, at once betokening strength of character with gentleness, and not feel that here was a man in very truth.  One knew instinctively that he would never hesitate a second to risk his life to save another’s, and that he would be as gentle as a woman in his dealings with all creatures.  But the great, strong jaw and the straight mouth and long nose all foretold fearless courage, and were ample warning that the man would be terrible if stirred to wrath.