“See that trail?” She pointed to a narrow break in the forest. “It leads to the head of the harbor. I’m going down that on the run. If you wish you may follow me to the camp and the dock at the end of the trail.”
“I shall follow,” said Jeanne.
“Wait for me there.”
Florence was away.
CHAPTER XIII
AND MAY YOU COME BACK
As, a half hour later, Florence neared the entrance to a second trail leading to the flaming forest, she suddenly thought of the fire-fighter, who had been placed there to prevent fire-fans from rushing into danger, and her knees all but doubled under her.
“How am I ever to get past him?” she asked herself in sudden consternation.
How indeed? Well enough she knew what these hard-boiled fighters thought of girls who, for sentimental reasons or for the purpose of experiencing a thrill, tried to crowd past them.
“If I stop to argue I’m lost,” she told herself.
Then the experience of a friend in a great city came to her and she smiled. This friend had been hurrying to a train when a man sprang out before her and exclaimed,