ed at the
Forestry Office. Torrance was reading a letter when his clerk proffered
the young man a chair and notified the supervisor that a Mr. Adams
wished to see him.

A few minutes later, Lorry was shown in. The door closed.

Torrance surveyed the strong, young figure with inward approval. "I have
your letter. Sit down. I see your letter is postmarked St. Johns."

"Yes, sir."

"Know anything about the Service?"

"No, sir."

"Why do you want to get into it?"

"I thought mebby I'd like the work."

"Have you any recommendations?"

"Nothin'--except what you're lookin' at."

Torrance smiled. "Could you get a letter from your last employer?"

"Not the kind of letter that would do any good. I had an argument with
the foreman, and he fired me."

Torrance had heard something about the matter, and did not question
further at the time.

"Do you drink?" queried Torrance.

"I never monkeyed with it much. I reckon I could if I wanted to."

Torrance drummed on the desk with his long, strong fingers. He reached
in a drawer and drew out a letter.

"How about that?"

Lorry glanced at the heading. Evidently the sheriff knew of his general
whereabouts. The letter stated that the sheriff would appreciate
information leading to the apprehension of Lawrence Adams, wanted for
aiding a prisoner to escape and for having in his possession a horse
that did not belong to him.

"What he says is right," Lorry asserted cheerfully. "I busted into the
jail and turned that hobo loose, and I borrowed the horse I'm riding. I
aim to send him back. My own horse is in the corral back at Stacey."

"What was your idea in letting the man go after arresting him?"

Lorry's clear color deepened. "I wasn't figurin' on explainin' that."

"You don't have to explain. But you will admit that the charges in this
letter are rather serious. We don't want men in the Service who are open
to criticism. You're pretty young to have such a record. It's up to you
to explain--or not, just as you like. But anything you tell me will be
treated as absolutely confidential, Adams."

"All right. Well, everything I done that day went wrong. I caught the
hobo tryin' to rob a couple of wimmin over by the Notch. I was takin'
him to Stacey when Bob Brewster butted in. The hobo was sick, and I
didn't aim to stand and see him kicked and beat up with a quirt, even if
he did steal one of the Starr horses. I told High Chin to quit, but his
hearin' wasn't good, so I