t many of
the rangers were college men. He resolved to make their acquaintance. "If
I'm to stay here they will help me endure the exile," he said.

After breakfast he went forth to find the post-office, expecting a letter
of instructions from Meeker. He found nothing of the sort, and this quite
disconcerted him.

"The stage is gone," the postmistress told him, "and you can't get up
till day after to-morrow. You might reach Meeker by using the government
'phone, however."

"Where will I find the government 'phone?"

"Down in the Supervisor's office. They're very accommodating; they'll let
you use it, if you tell them who you want to reach."

It was impossible to miss the forestry building for the reason that a
handsome flag fluttered above it. The door being open, Norcross perceived
from the threshold a young clerk at work on a typewriter, while in a
corner close by the window another and older man was working intently on
a map.

"Is this the office of the Forest Supervisor?" asked the youth.

The man at the machine looked up, and pleasantly answered: "It is, but
the Supervisor is not in yet. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"It may be you can. I am on my way to Meeker's Mill for a little outing.
Perhaps you could tell me where Meeker's Mill is, and how I can best get
there."

The man at the map meditated. "It's not far, some eighteen or twenty
miles; but it's over a pretty rough trail."

"What kind of a place is it?"

"Very charming. You'll like it. Real mountain country."

This officer was a plain-featured man of about thirty-five, with keen and
clear eyes. His voice, though strongly nasal, possessed a note of manly
sincerity. As he studied his visitor, he smiled.

"You look brand-new--haven't had time to season-check, have you?"

"No; I'm a stranger in a strange land."

"Out for your health?"

"Yes. My name is Norcross. I'm just getting over a severe illness, and
I'm up here to lay around and fish and recuperate--if I can."

"You can--you will. You can't help it," the other assured him. "Join one
of our surveying crews for a week and I'll mellow that suit of yours and
make a real mountaineer of you. I see you wear a _Sigma Chi_ pin. What
was your school?"

"I am a 'Son of Eli.' Last year's class."

The other man displayed his fob. "I'm ten classes ahead of you. My name
is Nash. I'm what they call an 'expert.' I'm up here doing some
estimating and surveying for a big ditch they're putting i