Ellen sat still and watched him with a steady gaze.
She was finding him strange. She looked at his olive drab garments, at the trim leather leggings that encased his lower limbs, at his smooth hands, at his face, and lastly at the dark shield on his breast.
“Law?” she asked succinctly.
“Well,” smiled Kenset, “after a fashion.”
She moved uneasily in her chair, and the man had a sudden feeling of pity for her.
“Not as you mean, Mrs. Courtrey,” he hastened. “I am in the United States Forest Service, if you know what that is.”
“No,” said Ellen, “I don’t know.”
“It is simply a service for the conservation of the timber of this country,” he explained gently, but he saw that he was not making it clear.
“The saving of the trees,” he went on, “the care of the forests.”
“Oh,” she said, relieved.