“By George!” he exclaimed, glancing toward Kate as she came hurrying from the cabin.  “That was an ordeal!”

“Oh, did you get it put out?  And where is Fred?  Shall I make you some lemonade, Douglas?”

“A glass of lemonade would be refreshing, Kate, after the experience I have gone through.  By George!  A forest fire is a tremendous problem, once the conflagration attains any size.  We worked like galley slaves all night long, with absolutely no respite.  Fred, by the way, is still working like a demon.”

While Kate was hurrying lemons and sugar into a pitcher, the professor reclined his work-wearied body upon the pine needles and cast hungry glances toward the hammock.  He cleared his throat loudly once or twice, and soliloquized aloud:  “By George!  I wish I could stretch out comfortably somewhere.”

But Marion did not hear him—­apparently being asleep; though the professor wondered how one could sleep and at the same time keep a hammock swinging with one’s toes, as Marion was doing.  He cleared his throat again, sighed and inquired mildly:  “Are you asleep, Marion?” Getting no answer, he sighed again and hitched himself closer to the tree, so that a certain protruding root should not gouge him so disagreeably in the side.

“Shall I fix you something to eat, Douglas?” The voice of Kate crooned over him solicitously.  “I can poach you a couple of eggs in just a minute, over the oil stove, and make you a cup of tea.  Is the fire out?  And, oh, Douglas!  Has it burned any of our timber?  I have been so worried, I did not close my eyes once, all night.”

“Our timber is safe, I’m happy to say.  It really is safer, if anything, than it was before the fire started.  There will be no further possibility of fire creeping upon us from that quarter.”  He quaffed the lemonade with little, restrained sighs of enjoyment.  “It also occurred to me that every forest fire must necessarily increase the value of what timber is left.  I should say then, strictly between you and me, Kate, that this fire may be looked upon privately as an asset.”

The hammock gave an extra swing and then stopped.  Kate, being somewhat sensitive to a third presence when she and the professor were talking together, looked fixedly at the hammock.

“If you are awake, dear, it would be tremendously thoughtful to let the professor have the hammock for a while.  He is utterly exhausted from fighting fire all night,” she said with sugar-coated annoyance in her tone.

“Oh, don’t disturb her—­I’m doing very well here for the present,” the professor made feeble protest when Marion showed no sign of having heard the hint.  “Let the child sleep.”

“The child certainly needs sleep, if I am any judge,” Kate snapped pettishly, and closed her lips upon further revelations.  “Shall I poach you some eggs?  And then if the child continues to sleep, I suppose we can bring your cot out under the trees.  It is terribly stuffy in the tent.  You’d roast.”