it; because, when he came to think of it, he
really did want a job of some sort, and the very atmosphere of quiet,
unhurried efficiency that pervaded the place made him wish that he
might become a part of it.

It was a vagrant wish that might have died as quickly as it had been
born; an impulse that had no root in any previous consideration of the
matter. But Ross leaned back in his chair and was regarding him
seriously, as a possible employee of the government, and Jack
instinctively squared his shoulders to meet the look.

Followed a few questions, which Jack answered as truthfully as he
dared. Ross looked him over again and asked him how he would like to
be a fireman. Whereat Jack looked bewildered.

"What I mean by that in this case," the supervisor explained, "is that
I could put you up on Mount Hough, in the lookout station. That's--do
you know anything at all about the Forest Service, young fellow?"

Jack blushed, gulped down a lie and came out with the truth. "I got
in this morning," he said. "I don't know a darned thing about it, but
I want to get to work at something. And I guess I can learn anything
that isn't too complicated."

Ross laughed to himself. "About the most complicated thing you'll have
to learn," he said, "is how to put in your time. It's hard to get a
man that will stay at lookout stations. Lonesome--that's all. It's
about as bad as being a sheepherder, only you won't have any sheep for
company. Up on Mount Hough you'll have to live in a little glass house
about the size of this room, and do your cooking on an oil stove. Your
work will be watching your district for fires, and reporting them
here--by phone. There's a man up there now, but he doesn't want to
stay. He's been hollering for some one to take his place. You're
entitled to four days relief a month--when we send up a man to take
your place. Aside from that you'll have to stay right up on that peak,
and watch for fires. The fellow up there will show you how to use the
chart and locate fires so you can tell us exactly where it is that you
see smoke. You can't leave except when you're given permission and
some one comes to take your place. We send up your supplies and mail
once a week on a pack horse. Your pay will be seventy dollars a month.

"I don't want you to take it unless you feel pretty sure you can
stick. I'm tired of sending men up there for a week or two and having
them phoning in here a dozen times a day about how lonesom