“If the wind doesn’t rise,” he muttered to himself, “we’re going to make it.”

He went on, trying to locate the other end of the fire.  Behind him he heard Lew halloing.  Before he could turn to answer, an echo came back from the mountain in front of him.

“If only that were a real voice,” muttered Charley to himself.

Then he stood stock-still.  Shout after shout came ringing in his ears.  “It is a real voice,” he cried.  “The fire crew is coming.”

A moment later a dozen forms became visible in the smoke.  They were running along the edge of the fire, evidently trying to determine where to begin their attack on it.  At their head was the forester.  He came directly toward Charley, but gave no sign of recognition.  Nor, could Charley have seen himself, would he have wondered at it.  With his face blackened by smoke and caked with blood from innumerable little cuts and scratches, his hands grimy and almost raw, and his clothes torn in a hundred places, Charley could hardly have been recognized by his own mother.

“How far across the valley does this fire extend?” asked the forester.

“You are almost at the end of it, sir,” replied Charley.

“It’s making a tremendous smoke for such a little blaze, then,” said the forester.

He turned to his men.  “Get right at it and beat it out,” he ordered.  “This is all there is to it.”

Again he faced Charley.  “Are you sure?” he demanded.  “When we came over the pass it looked as though the entire bottom was afire.”

“It was,” said Charley.  “That is, everything this side of the run was afire.  We have got it all out but this.”

“Have you seen anything of two boys with a wireless outfit?  They notified me of this fire.”

“Why, I am one of them, sir.  It was I who asked you yesterday for a job as fire patrol.”

The forester looked at him narrowly for several seconds.  “See here,” he said severely.  “Did you boys set this forest afire?”

Charley looked aghast.  “Set the forest afire!” he exclaimed in amazement.  “Certainly not.  Why should we?”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

Even through the grime Charley’s face was red.  “See here,” he said angrily, “I don’t care whether you are the forester or the President of the United States.  You are not going to call me a liar.  If Lew and I hadn’t been here fishing, you wouldn’t have any forest by this time.  We’ve fought this fire for hours and it’s only a piece of luck that Lew isn’t dead.  He’d have been burned to a crisp if I hadn’t found him just when I did.  We’ve done everything we could to save the forest.  I demand to know your reason for suggesting that we started the blaze.”

“Young man,” said the forester, “more than one forest fire has been set by persons who wanted a job fighting fire.  You wanted a job.  You told me what an advantage your wireless would be.