Charley’s anxiety lent wings to his heels and he started at a rate of speed that would soon have winded both boys.  At a protest from Lew, he dropped to a fast walk.  With open fire trails before them, the chums advanced rapidly.  Soon they were well up the slope of the next mountain.  They turned and studied the country behind them with anxious eyes.  But no smoke columns showed against the green of the forest and they went on with lighter hearts.

“I’m certainly going to get a pair of good field-glasses,” said Charley, “though I don’t know where the money’s to come from any more than I know how I’ll get my battery.  But I just have to have both.”

Their meeting-place with Mr. Morton was in the next valley.  Charley glanced at his watch and saw that they were early for the appointment.  Yet he kept on at good speed in the hope that Mr. Morton might also be early.  He wanted to talk to him as soon as he possibly could.  The two boys never reached the meeting-place, however, for shortly they met Mr. Morton himself coming up the fire trail.  He had reached the meeting-place, and, being early, had decided to climb to the top of the hill.  He knew that his subordinate would almost certainly travel by way of this fire trail, and he planned to keep watch on the mountain top while he waited for him.

Charley was so relieved to see his ranger that he scarcely knew what to say.  He suddenly felt so different that he was almost ashamed of having been alarmed.  As he looked at it now, it seemed foolish to have been so disturbed because a stranger had been provoked at what he chose to regard as interference with his fishing.

The ranger shook hands warmly with his young friends.  “I see you have kept the forest safe so far,” he said with a smile.  “How have things been going?”

“All right,” replied Charley, “but we met a couple of men an hour or so ago, whose looks we didn’t like.”

“How’s that?  What did they do that you didn’t like?”

“Well, they were smoking and they were careless with their cigars.  Since we met them I’ve been expecting to see a smoke column rising every time I turned around; and I’d hate to tell you how many times I’ve looked back in the last hour.”

“It never hurts a man in the forest to look back,” said Mr. Morton with another smile.  “Lot’s wife is the only person on record who came to grief that way.  But seriously, you mustn’t get nervous just because you see a smoker.  You’ll meet hundreds of them, and they’re all pretty careless.”

Charley flushed a little.  “You don’t understand, Mr. Morton,” he went on.  “I wasn’t nervous—­that is, I didn’t—­I mean, it wasn’t the mere fact that the men were smoking that made me feel anxious.  I didn’t like the looks of the men or their actions.”

“What did they do?”

“Well, they swore at us.”

The ranger laughed.  “That’s a habit of these mountaineers,” he said.  “You mustn’t pay any attention to it.  They don’t mean anything by it.”