must get on with my work and hurry back to my office.
Good-bye and good luck to you. And don't forget about your fires."

Turning to the elder of his two companions, he said, "All right, Finnegan.
Go ahead."

The man stepped to the nearest tree, slipped his calipers on it
breast-high, then glanced aloft. "White pine, forty-three, five," he
called.

The forester put down the figures in his cruising book.

"Hemlock, twenty-eight, four," called the other man.

The men were experienced timber cruisers. They were measuring the amount
of wood in the forest. The first man meant that the white pine tree he was
measuring was forty-three inches in diameter breast-high and would make
five standard logs, each sixteen feet long. The second scaler had measured
a hemlock twenty-eight inches in diameter and long enough for four logs.
They were measuring the timber on a few acres, so as to form an estimate
of the amount for sale.

The work interested Lew greatly, but Charley had no heart for anything. He
had fought hard and apparently his last chance had slipped away from him.

He was very quiet as they made their way through the valley. Even the run
in the bottom failed to stir him, though he loved the little mountain
streams passionately. Yet he did notice that here, beneath the lofty
pines, where the forest mold lay deep and spongy, the brook flowed
strongly. It sang as it rushed along between its rugged banks. But there
was no music in its song for Charley. So alluring was the stream that Lew
wanted to fish, but Charley had no heart even to try for a trout; though
it was practically a certainty that there were trout aplenty to be had.
Time heals all wounds. It would heal Charley's: but not enough time had
yet elapsed for the healing process to begin. At present he could think of
nothing but his dismal prospects.

So they went on through the bottom and slowly ascended the opposite
mountain. As they had suspected might be the case, it was impossible to
distinguish the landmarks they had chosen. The innumerable great trunks of
the pines cut off their vision as effectually as a high board fence could
have done. But the slope of the land told them which way to go, and the
freedom from underbrush made it possible for them to travel in a
comparatively straight line. So they reached the crest of the mountain,
after a stiff climb, not far from the spot which they had selected.

The summit was sparsely timbered and they had no diffic