at a real live ranger looks
like. Mr. Shoop told her something about you while we were in Jason.
They became great friends while the camp was building. She says she
knows all about you, and tries to tease me by keeping it to herself."

"Bud--my boss--is some josher," was all that Lorry could think of to say
at the time.

Bronson went back to his cabin. Lorry, entering his camp, lighted the
lamp and built a fire. The camp looked cozy and cheerful after a week on
the trail.

When he had eaten he sat down to write to his mother. He would tell her
all about the new cabin and the city folks. But before he had written
more than to express himself "that it was too darned bad a girl had to
stay up in the woods without no other wimmin-folks around," he became
drowsy. The letter remained unfinished. He would finish it to-morrow. He
would smoke awhile and then go to bed.

A healthy young animal himself, he could not understand what sickness
meant. And as for lungs--he had forgotten there were such things in a
person's make-up. And sick folks couldn't eat "regular grub." It must be
pretty tough not to be able to eat heartily. Now, there was that wild
turkey he had shot near the Big Spring. He tiptoed to the door. The
lights were out in the other cabin. It was closed season for turkey, but
then a fellow needed a change from bacon and beans once in a while.

He had hidden the turkey in a gunny-sack which hung from a kitchen
rafter. Should he leave it in the sack, hang it from a rafter of their
veranda, out of reach of a chance bobcat or coyote, or--it would be much
more of a real surprise to hang the big bird in front of their door in
all his feathered glory. The sack would spoil the effect.

He took off his boots and walked cautiously to the other cabin. The
first person to come out of that cabin next morning would actually bump
into the turkey. It would be a good joke.

"And if he's the right kind of a hombre he won't talk about it," thought
Lorry as he returned to his camp. "And if he ain't, I am out one fine
bird, and I'll know to watch out for him."

Chapter XXI

_A Slim Whip of a Girl_

When Bronson opened his door to the thin sunlight and the crisp chill of
the morning, he chuckled. He had made too many camps in the outlands to
be surprised by an unexpected gift of game out of season. His neighbor
was a ranger, and all rangers were incidentally game wardens. Bronson
believed heartily in the conservation of