from which they hoped to be able to survey the
entire surrounding country.

As they started up the final slope, the smell of the smoke became
stronger. Looking back into the valley where the bus was stalled, Janet
could see the men in the company all grouped around the front end. It
was evident that the trouble had not been repaired. Some distance from
the bus a lone figure was striding along the trail, evidently bound for
the nearest ranch or village where he could telephone for another bus
and a repair crew.

They toiled up the last few yards to the summit of the promontory and
reached it only to drop down in an open space, gasping for breath, for
the last part of the climb had been arduous.

A sharp cry from Helen drew Janet's attention away from the bus, which
now seemed far down in the valley.

"There's fire burning in that further valley," cried Helen, an
involuntary note of alarm in her voice.

Janet turned quickly and gazed in the direction Helen was pointing. Her
companion was right. There was fire in one of the distant valleys. From
their elevation they could see a low, creeping wave of smoke shot
through with an occasional tongue of flame.

The wind, riffling past them now, was sweeping the fire in their
direction at a steady pace, but it was at least two miles away, perhaps
even further, estimated Janet.

"Does it look serious?" asked Helen.

"I should say it does," replied Janet quickly. "One of us must get back
to the bus at once and warn Curt. This is what he's feared."

"I'll stay," said Helen, but Janet noted that her companion's face paled
at the thought of staying on top of the ridge and watching the fire
sweep toward her.

"No you won't. If there's any staying to be done up here, I'll be the
one," decided Janet. "Besides, I can run faster than you and your shoes
are in no condition to go racing over this rough ground. You start down
now and tell Curt exactly what's happening. Tell him the fire is moving
steadily in our direction and I can't see that anyone is in front of it
attempting to beat it out or to build barriers to halt it."

"But I hate to leave you here alone," protested Helen.

"Never mind that. You get back to the bus. Hurry!" There was an anxious
note of appeal in Janet's last words and Helen flung down the stick she
had been carrying and started back down the slope.

Janet watched her for a time as she darted around outcroppings of rock.
Then she turned and gazed at the