“Because I didn’t report it, it is off the regular route. I noticed the smoke showed and died down at certain periods, never gaining in volume, so I decided it was some new entryman. It being rainy, however, I rode down to make sure.” The appearance and bearing of his visitor was so self-reliant, Ted felt that he was no enemy and did his best to be agreeable, telling him about his mother and sisters and the robbery, finally deluging him with questions concerning the life on the station.
In love with his work, as all the forest patrol are, Chester talked of it so interestingly that Ted began to envy him.
“It must be bully knowing you are guarding millions of dollars worth of lumber and the lives of so many people,” he declared enthusiastically. “Still, I should think you’d get lonesome off up there by yourself, but I suppose you read a lot.”
“I’m too busy watching for fires except when it rains, and then I usually have a trip to make, either like looking up a smudge or repairing a telephone. But a fellow can’t be lonesome among the trees and mountains, if he loves them.”
“How long are you on duty?”
“From snow-going to snow-coming. I sleep when I can. That is, when I can’t see any smoke, I take a nap for half an hour, watch again, then take another nap, and so on. But why not ride back with me? Never seen a lookout station, have you?”
“Never, and I’d like to immensely. But let’s eat before we go.”
“It sure will be good to taste grub I haven’t cooked myself,” declared Chester, as he ate with keen relish. “You’re some cook, if you made that pie.”
“I didn’t. A friend of ours gave it to us.”
“Then you know Joy?”