to be canned--under the circumstances?"

"No, I wouldn't. I need the money." Jack bit his lips to keep from
grinning at the powder-puff play.

"Oh, I see." She tried another shot. "Why don't you cut the legs off
this table? I would. It's miles too high."

"I don't monkey with government property, myself." He placed a
peculiar accent on the last word, thus pointing his meaning very
clearly.

"Now, _what_ do you know about _that_? Missed it--with a government
cone, shot by a government stick on a government table, while a
government scowl fairly shrieks: 'Cut out this desecration!'" She
chalked her cue gravely, powdered her nose afterward, using a round
scrap of a mirror not much bigger than a silver dollar. "Do you stay
up here all the time and scowl, all by yourself?"

"All the time and scowl, all by myself." Jack took his hands from his
pockets that he might light his pipe; which was a sign that he was
nearly ready to treat the girl kindly. "If you object to smoke--" and
he waved one hand significantly toward the open door.

"All the time--all by yourself. And you don't want to be canned,
either." With the pointer Marion drew aimless little invisible volutes
upon the map, connecting the two spruce cones with an imaginary scroll
design. "How touching!" she said enigmatically.

"Sure, you're heart-broken over the pathos of it. I can see that. You
ought to put in about a week here--that's all I've got to say."

"Think I couldn't?" She looked across at him queerly.

"You wouldn't dare go any farther away than the spring. You'd have to
stay right here on this peak every minute of the twenty-four hours.
They call up at all kinds of ungodly times, just to see if you're on
the job, if they think you're snitching. They'd catch you gone
sometime--you couldn't get by with it--and then--"

"The can," finished Miss Marion gravely. "But what I want to know is,
what have you done?"

"Done?" Jack's jaw dropped slack away from the pipestem. "What yuh
mean, done?"

"Yes. What have you done that they should put you up here and make you
stay up here? It sounds--"

"Now, even a tourist knows that this is a Forest Service lookout
station, and that I'm here to watch out for fires down below! I'm your
guardian angel, young lady. Treat me with respect, if not with
kindness."

"I'm a member of the no-treat reform club. Honestly, don't they let
you leave here at all?"

"Four days a month." He heaved a heavy sigh and waved hi