Ben, then," remarked Wilbur. "Does he work all the time
for nothing?"

"Not at all. They always see that he gits a fair return. Every once in a
while the man he's workin' for will drive up to the shack with some
bacon an' a barrel o' flour an' trimmin's. Often as not, he'll bring
the wife along, an' she'll go over the lad's things to find what he
needs."

"That's mighty nice," commented Wilbur.

"Some of 'em are as good to Ben as if he was their own," said the
Ranger. "They'll go over everything he's got, fix up whatever needs
mendin', an' make a list o' things to be bought next time any one goes
into town. You see, he gits his wages that way. He works well, an' so it
ain't like charity, an' at the same time it gives the man he works for a
chance to do the right thing."

"I suppose if he didn't, you'd get after him," suggested the boy.

"Never had to yet, an' never expect to," was the prompt reply. "Mostly
folks is all right, an' a lot o' the supposed selfishness is jest
because they ain't been reminded. And then Ben never makes trouble."

"He seems quiet enough," said Wilbur, with a gesture towards the doorway
where the lad was approaching. He came in and stood looking vacantly at
the two sitting together.

"What were you doin' yesterday, Ben?" asked the Ranger sharply to rouse
him.

The lad flung out both arms with a wild gesture.

"I was away, away, far away," he answered; "away, away over the hills."

"Where?"

The half-witted lad passed his hand across his eyes.

"With Mickey," he said.

"An' what were you an' Mickey doin'?"

"Lots of things, lots, lots, lots. Little fires creep, creep, creepin'
on the ground," he moved his hands waveringly backward and forward as
though to show the progress of the flames, "then put them out quick,
so!" he stamped his foot on the ground.

"Does he mean a forest fire, Rifle-Eye?" queried Wilbur, alert at the
very mention of fire.

"No, no, no," interrupted Ben; "little bit fires. Pile burn, burn hot,
grass catch fire, put out grass."

"You mean," said the mountaineer, "that you an' Mickey were burnin' up
brush?"

"Yes, brush all in piles, burn."

"It's a pretty risky business," said Rifle-Eye, "this burnin' brush in
the late spring, but Mickey's right enough to have had Ben along. He's
one o' the best fire-fighters that ever happened. He never knows enough
to quit."

"Did you have any trouble, Ben?" asked Wilbur.

"One little fire, walk, walk, walk away