Principally because he wanted to help old Simeon Wright's men
in with the cattle. Simeon probably has a ninety-nine year lease on his
fat carcass--with the soul thrown in for a trading stamp. It don't take
but one man to count cattle, but three extra cowboys comes mighty handy
in the timber."

"Would Wright bribe him, do you suppose?"

Welton stopped short.

"Let me tell you one thing about old Simeon, Bob," said he. "He owns
more land than any other man in California. He got it all from the
government. Eight sections on one of his ranches he took up under the
Swamp Act by swearing he had been all over them in a boat. He had. The
boat was drawn by eight mules. That's just a sample. You bet Simeon owns
a Supervisor, if he thinks he needs one; and that's why the cattle
business takes precedence over the fire business."

"It's an outrage!" cried Bob. "We ought to report him for neglect of
duty."

Welton chuckled.

"I didn't tell you this to get you mad, Bobby," he drawled with his
indescribable air of good humour; "only to show you the situation. What
difference does it make? As for reporting to Washington! Look here, I
don't know what Plant's political backing is, but it must be 99.84 per
cent. pure. Otherwise, how would a man as fat as that get a job of
Forest Supervisor? Why, he can't ride a horse, and it's absurd to
suppose he ever saw any of the Reserve he's in charge of."

Welton bestirred himself to good purpose. Inside of two hours a
half-dozen men, well-mounted and provisioned, bearing the usual tools of
the fire-fighter, had ridden off into the growing brightness of the
moon.

"There," said the lumberman with satisfaction. "That isn't going to cost
much, and we'll feel safe. Now let's turn in."

III

The next morning Bob was awakened to a cold dawn that became still more
shivery when he had dressed and stepped outside. Even a hot breakfast
helped little; and when the buckboard was brought around, he mounted to
his seat without any great enthusiasm. The mountain rose dark and
forbidding, high against the eastern sky, and a cold wind breathed down
its defiles. When the wiry little ponies slowed to the first stretches
of the tiresome climb, Bob was glad to walk alongside.

Almost immediately the pines began. They were short and scrubby as yet,
but beautiful in the velvet of their dark green needles. Bob glanced at
them critically. They were perhaps eighty to a hundred feet high and
from a foot