ing to use these forests for the benefit of the people. We're
going to cut the ripe trees and sell them to the lumber manufacturer;
we're going to develop the water power; we're going to improve the
grazing; we're going to study what we have here, so that by and by from
our forests we will be getting the income the lumberman now gets, and
will not be injuring the estate. Each Forest is going to be a big and
complicated business, like railroading or wholesaling. Anybody can run
Martin's store down at the Flats. It takes a trained man to oversee even
a proposition like the Star at White Oaks."

"Oh, I see what you're drivin' at," said California John, "but I've made
good up to now; and until they try me out, they've no right to fire me.
I'll defy 'em to find anythin' crooked!!!"

"John, you're as straight as a string. But they have tried you out. Your
office work has been away off."

"Oh, that! What's those dinkey little reports and monkeydoodle business
amount to, anyhow? You know perfectly well it's foolish to ask a ranger
to fill out an eight-page blank every time he takes a ride. What does
that amount to?"

"Not very much," confessed Thorne. "But when things begin to hum around
here there'll be a thousand times as much of the same sort of stuff, and
it'll _all_ be important."

"They'd better get me a clerk."

"They would get you a clerk, several of them. But no man has a right to
even boss a job he doesn't himself understand. What do you know about
timber grading? estimating? mapping? What is your scientific
training--?"

"I've give my soul and boot-straps to this Service for nine years--at
sixty and ninety a month," interrupted California John. "Part of that I
spent for tools they was too stingy to give me. Now they kick me out."

"Oh, no, they don't," said Thorne. "Not any! But you agree with me,
don't you, that you couldn't hold down the job?"

"I suppose so," snapped California John. "To hell with such a game. I
think I'll go over Goldfield way."

"No, you won't," said Thorne gently. "You'll stay here, in the Service."

"What!" cried the old man rising to his feet; "stay here in the Service!
And every mountain man to point me out as that old fool Davidson who got
fired after workin' nine years like a damn ijit. You talk foolish!"

Thorne arose too, and put one hand on the old man's shoulder.

"And what about those nine years?" he asked gently. "Things looked
pretty dark, didn't they? You didn't have