“She ’jines onto your road up the mountain just by the top of the rise,” replied the ranger.

“How did you get up here before we built that road?” inquired Bob.

“Rode,” answered the man briefly.

“Pretty tough on Mr. Plant,” Bob ventured.

The man made no reply, but spat carefully into the tarweed.  Bob chuckled to himself as the obvious humour of the situation came to him.  Plant was evidently finding the disputed right of way a great convenience.

The meadow stretched broad and fair to a distant fringe of aspens.  On either side lay the open forest of spruce and pines, spacious, without undergrowth.  Among the trees gleamed several new buildings and one or two old and weather-beaten structures.  The sounds of busy saws and hammers rang down the forest aisles.

Bob found the Supervisor sprawled comfortably in a rude, homemade chair watching the activities about him.  To his surprise, he found there also Oldham, the real-estate promoter from Los Angeles.  Two men were nailing shakes on a new shed.  Two more were busily engaged in hewing and sawing, from a cross-section of a huge sugar pine, a set of three steps.  Plant seemed to be greatly interested in this, as were still two other men squatting on their heels close by.  All wore the badges of the Forest Reserves.  Near at hand stood two more men holding their horses by the bridle.  As Bob ceased his interchange with Oldham, he overhead one of these inquire: 

“All right.  Now what do you want us to do?”

“Get your names on the pay-roll and don’t bother me,” replied Plant.

Plant caught sight of Bob, and, to that young man’s surprise, waved him a jovial hand.

“’Bout time you called on the old man!” he roared.  “Tie your horse to the ground and come look at these steps.  I bet there ain’t another pair like ’em in the mountains!”

Somewhat amused at this cordiality, Bob dismounted.

Plant mentioned names by way of introduction.

“Baker told me that you were with him, but not that you were on the mountain,” said Bob.  “Better come over and see us.”

“I’ll try, but I’m rushed to get back,” replied Oldham formally.

“How’s the work coming on?” asked Plant.  “When you going to start fluming ’em down?”

“As soon as we can get our permit,” replied Bob.

Plant chuckled.

“Well, you did get in a hole there, didn’t you?  I guess you better go ahead.  It’ll take all summer to get the permit, and you don’t want to lose a season, do you?”

Astonished at the effrontery of the man, Bob could with difficulty control his expression.

“We expect to start to-morrow or next day,” he replied.  “Just as soon as we can get our teams organized.  Just scribble me a temporary permit, will you?” He offered a fountain pen and a blank leaf of his notebook.

Plant hesitated, but finally wrote a few words.