umulate back of the mill. Some way, no one ever knew just how,
those slab piles got afire. It was on a very windy summer night, when
everything was as dry as chips and the hills were covered with heaps of
dry toppings and pine slash. Well, the fire got into a few piles of
toppings, and before the men at the mill realized that there was a fire,
it was running over the hills like a wild thing. The dry pine needles are
just like turpentine to burn, so in less than two hours there were
several square miles of timber land afire. The mill and hundreds of
thousands of feet of sawed lumber were burned, and an area of many square
miles stripped of every stick of wood, so far as value was concerned."

"Did you see them fight it?" asked Phil.

"No, I didn't see them, but I've heard them tell how they did it."

"I was in a forest fire once," said Mr. Allen. "It wasn't such an awfully
big one, but there was plenty of excitement while it did last, I tell you
that."

"Tell us about it," came in a chorus.

"It's pretty hard to describe a forest fire, but it was a very exciting
experience. It was up not many miles from Mount Deception, while I was
stopping with a friend at Manitou Park. We were eating our Sunday dinner,
when suddenly the door opened and in rushed the man from the adjoining
farm.

"'Fire, boys,' he called. 'I'm sorry to disturb you, but we need you, and
you know the law. I'll have the buggy ready in a shake, and you be
ready.' As he left, my friend cried, 'Come quick, Allen, into your old
clothes.' 'Why,' I said, 'we don't have to fight the forest fire, do we?'
He laughed aloud. 'Well, you just bet we do!' he cried. 'The law says
that every able-bodied man in reach of a forest fire must give his
services. If a fire starts on Government land and burns onto private
land, Uncle Sam has to pay for all the private loss. But if it starts on
private land and burns onto Government land, the land owner is
responsible.'

"I jumped into some old clothes, and was ready just as the buggy drove up
to the door. The man handed me a big brown jug and told me to fill it
with drinking water. Off to the north we saw a great cloud of gray smoke
rising from the forest, but no flame. The farmer handed my friend the
lines, told us to take the shortest route, and not to stop for anything,
that he would follow on horseback in a few moments. I never shall forget
how the little mare did go that day. We drove north on a county road
until we