IV

At these and similar occupations the latter days of June slipped by.  Bob had little leisure, for the Service was undermanned for the work it must do.  Curtis sooned resigned, to everybody’s joy and relief.

On only one occasion did Bob gain a chance to ride over to the scenes of his old activities.  This was on a Sunday when, by a miracle, nothing unexpected came up to tie him to his duty.  He had rather an unsatisfactory visit with Mr. Welton.  It was cordial enough on both sides, for the men were genuinely fond of each other; but they had lost touch of each other’s interests.  Welton persisted in regarding Bob with a covert amusement, as an older man regards a younger who is having his fling, and will later settle down.  Bob asked after the work, and was answered.  Neither felt any real human interest in the questions nor their replies.  A certain constraint held them, to Bob’s very genuine regret.  He rode back through the westering shadows vaguely uneasy in his mind.

He and two of the new mountain men had been for two days cutting up some dead and down trees that encumbered the enclosure at headquarters.  They cross-cut the trunks into handy lengths; bored holes in them with a two-inch augur; loaded the holes with blasting powder and a fuse, and touched them off.  The powder split the logs into rough posts small enough to handle.  These fragments they carried laboriously to the middle of the meadow, where they stacked them rack-fashion and on end.  The idea was to combine business with pleasure by having a grand bonfire the night of the Fourth of July.

For this day other preparations were forward.  Amy promised a spread for everybody, if she could get a little help at the last moment.  As many of the outlying rangers as could manage it would come in for the occasion.  A shooting match, roping and chopping contests, and other sports were in contemplation.

As the time drew near, various mysteries were plainly afoot.  Men claimed their turns in riding down the mountain for the mail.  They took with them pack horses.  These they unpacked secretly and apart.  Amy gave Bob to understand that this holiday, when the ranks were fullest and conditions ripe, went far as a substitute for Christmas among these men.

Then at noon of July second Charley Morton dashed down the trail from the Upper Meadow, rode rapidly to Headquarters, flung himself from his horse, and dove into the office.  After a moment he reappeared, followed by Thorne.

“Saddle up, boys,” said the latter.  “Fire over beyond Baldy.  Ride and gather in the men who are about here,” he told Bob.

Bob sprang on Charley Morton’s horse and rode about instructing the workers to gather.  When he returned, Thorne gave his instructions.

“We’re short-handed,” he stated, “and it’ll be hard to get help just at this time.  Charley, you take Ware, Elliott and Carroll and see what it looks like.  Start a fire line, and do the best you can.  Orde, you and Pollock can get up some pack horses and follow later with grub, blankets, and so forth.  I’ll ride down the mountain to see what I can do about help.  It may be I can catch somebody by phone at the Power House who can let the boys know at the north end.  You say it’s a big fire?”