“The dam? Oh, there’s going to be quite a lake over there. Only there’s a lot of trees down on the lower reaches of the mountain that have got to be filled.” He lingered in the doorway as if quite willing to explain. “You see, if they rot, why then there’s nothing left to hold the earth together on those slopes. What’s the result? It slides down into the lake and fills it up with mud. In the end they have to dredge it. That’s what they call erosion—earth falling away from where it belongs because there are no roots to hold it together. You see trees are important.”
“Well, I guess,” said Tom.
“The federal government is doing a lot of that out west,” said the visitor. He seemed quite willing to explain this interesting work, pausing still in the doorway, and smiling as if to encourage further questions.
“Well, I’m mighty glad you dropped in on us,” said Tom. “My name is Slade and my chum’s name is Gaylong.”
“Glad to know both of you,” said the visitor, with a little nod of acknowledgment. “My name’s Lawton.”
“Don’t you go to camping anywhere else now,” Tom said.
“Thanks,” said Lawton briskly; “you’ll see me.” And he hurried away.
CHAPTER XXVIII—Three’s Company
“Well, there’s my mysterious fugitive smashed in the head,” laughed Tom.
“Also my mysterious sounds at the top of the well,” said Brent.