In the very centre of the valley ran a little stream.  Long before they could see it, they heard the brook talking to itself.  The forest was filled with a gentle murmur, which grew to a distinct rushing sound as they approached the stream.

“Can’t you just hear it speak?” said Lew.  “What do you suppose it is saying?”

“Those really are voices,” insisted Charley.

“Now who’s getting dippy?” laughed Lew.  “You’ll be as bad as I am if you keep on.”

“But I do hear voices,” protested Charley.  “I plainly heard the word ‘six.’  Listen.  Somebody said ‘eight,’ just as plain as could be.”

Lew looked puzzled.  “Of course there might be some fishermen in here besides ourselves,” he said.

They looked carefully about them, but at first saw nothing.  Then a voice distinctly said, “Hemlock—­five.”  There could no longer be any doubt.  Some one besides themselves was in the forest.

They made their way in the direction of the sound.  Presently they saw three men.  Two of them carried calipers and walked in advance.  The third came behind and held a pencil and note-book.

“Wonder who they are and what they are doing,” Charley said quietly.

“Let’s watch and see.”

But in a moment the approaching party caught sight of them.  “Good-morning, boys,” said the man with the note-book.  “Out for trout?”

“Surest thing you know,” replied Lew.  “But we’ve had hard luck.  We intended to fish in the valley back of us.  It used to be a fine place for trout.  But it’s been burned over and there are no trout left.”

“I know,” said the man.  “I’ve seen it.  Be careful with your fires, boys.  We don’t want any more of this fine timber burned.”

“Are you a forest-ranger, too?” asked Charley eagerly.

“No; I’m the forester.  I have charge of this forest.”

“Why, I thought you were at headquarters with your fire crew,” cried Charley, hardly realizing what he was saying.

The man looked at him sharply.  “I ought to be and I wish I were,” he said.  “I don’t like this a bit.  But I was ordered by the Commissioner to send in an immediate estimate on the amount of timber in this stand.  There’s a big sale on and they have to know how much there is to sell.”  He paused and then added:  “How in the world did you know I was supposed to be at headquarters with the fire crew?”

“A ranger told us so.  We met him over in the other valley.  He said he wished he was with you.”

“Oh!  That would be Morton,” said the forester.  “I sent him out on patrol because we were short of fire patrols.”

“Could you use me as a fire patrol?” said Charley quickly.

The forester looked at him searchingly.  “Why do you want to be a fire patrol?” he asked.

“I’ve got to go to work at something,” said Charley, “and I’d love to help care for the forest.  You see, I’m almost through high school and I’ve got to go to work and help Dad the minute I’ve graduated.  He wants me to go into the factory with him.  I hate factories.  But I love the woods.  You’d never be sorry, if you hired me, sir.”