THE FIRE LOOKOUT
Vaulting easily into their saddles, the boys lost no time in starting homeward, but so hard had they ridden to reach Waterville to file their claim that they were compelled to spare their ponies on the return.
Earnestly did they discuss the words of the registrar, speculating as to whether or not they really had committed a fraud and discussing the other surprising features of their interview with the official.
“Well, it’s some satisfaction to know our application protects us until word is received from Washington,” Ted finally declared. “It will block the game those claim-jumpers are trying to play.”
“I hope so. It doesn’t seem as though Simmons, knowing we were friends of Silas Hopkins, would dare to grant entry to whomsoever they are, now that we have put in our claim.” Descending darkness caused the boys to give all their attention to guiding their ponies until they realized that the animals were cleverer at keeping the road than they were themselves, and after they made this discovery, they devoted their senses to listening. For it was their first night in the saddle, alone, and they feared surprise both by men and wild beasts.
Without mishap, however, they finally reached their hut, where to their delight they found Andy. And eagerly they poured out their troubles to him.
“We’ll attend to this business in the morning. Go to bed now. You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
Before dawn, however, the rain began to come down in torrents, percolating the thatched roof and compelling the young homesteaders and their guest to spread ponchos, blankets, and anything they could find to keep the water from their beds and from the food.
As later they looked out upon a rainy day, Ted’s heart sank.
“Everything’s either soaked or damp and nasty,” he complained. “The fire won’t burn enough to cook anything decently and we can’t work.”