“Don’t you get lonesome?”
“I used to, yes, sir. That was when Mr. Rascomb first bought this place. But the last year he’s spent more time here so it hasn’t been so bad. I’m not kickin’. Mr. Rascomb is as fine a boss as I ever had.”
Fleur paused and looked intently out across the lake, the pupils of his steel-gray eyes contracting in the bright sunlight.
“See that deer swimmin’ in the water. First time I’ve ever known ’em to come near the lodge. They’re being driven by the fire.”
Flash made out a dark form in the water but soon lost it.
“Is the fire coming this way?” he asked.
“Looks like it to me,” Fleur answered. “Rascomb says you’re aimin’ to take some pictures over Gersham Pass way. Better watch yourself—that’s my advice.”
Doyle and Rascomb came briskly down the path to the dock.
“Are you ready?” asked Flash.
“Mr. Rascomb is going along with us,” the technician said. “He thinks we need a guide.”