"Do they look at you as though they'd like to kill you, too?" demanded
Charley. "Is that a habit of these mountaineers?"

Instantly the ranger's face was sober. "See here," he said seriously.
"What have you been doing? What did you do or say to the men that made
them curse you? A little authority hasn't made you toplofty, has it? You
know you are not supposed to let anybody know that you're a fire patrol."

"I didn't," replied Charley, stung by the implied criticism. "We caught a
few fish in our own valley, then cut through to the valley just below us,
on our way to this trail. Just as we reached the run, two men came out of
the bushes. They asked what we had caught, and when I showed them, one of
them swore at us terribly and said we had fished the stream out so that
they would have to go on to the next valley."

"Is that all?" laughed the ranger, looking much relieved.

"No, sir, it isn't," continued Charley. "They looked as though they wanted
to kill us."

The ranger was inclined to smile, but he forbore, seeing that Charley was
sensitive. "You'll soon get used to meeting tough-looking customers in the
forest," he said.

"I hope that I don't meet many like that fellow," sighed Charley. "When he
scowled at me, he looked as fierce as a chimpanzee. And he had an ugly
scar over his eye that actually seemed to turn red."

Instantly the ranger's face became sober. "A scar over his eye," he