“Wait a minute,” said Bob. “I’ll back up and you can pass.”
“All right,” said Cecil. “That was rather close. This road is not very wide and it is far from straight. I am sorry that I did not see you sooner, but I was thinking about other things.”
Bob found it rather difficult to back his car along the winding road, but he finally reached a point where there was room enough for the cars to pass. Cecil stopped his car as he came abreast.
“Where’s the fire?” asked Bill.
“It’s about four miles up the road,” replied Cecil. “It’s burning down the west slope of the next ridge.”
“We thought that we would go up and see it,” said Bill.
“I am afraid that you will do more than that,” interjected Cecil. “You will have to go up and join the fire-fighting crew.”
“We don’t know much about fighting fires,” said Bob. “But we will do what we can.”
“You will never learn any younger,” said Cecil. “Then, again, it is one of the accepted laws of the Northwest woods that anyone can be drafted to fight forest fires. We need all of the help that we can get on this one, as it has the earmarks of developing into a rip-snorter. Continue on this road for another three miles and then you will come to Sam Crouch’s clearing. Turn there and leave your car at his place. Then take your shovel and axe and follow a trail that runs almost due east from his place. Out on the trail about a mile you will see the first of the fire-fighters. Report to the forest warden, Earl Simmons. He will give you something to do and tell you how to do it. I am on my way back to Portland. It seems that several fires have broken out in other parts of this district. I have to get back on the job. I am sorry that I will not be able to go fishing with you again on this trip. Good luck to you.”
Cecil had gone almost before he had finished speaking. Bill and Bob watched the car disappear around a turn in the road and then all was quiet for a moment.