points until his instrument was giving a spark of maximum strength. Then
he settled himself to the task ahead.

"WXY--WXY--WXY--CBC," called Charley. (Frankfort Radio Station--Charley
Russell calling.) Several times he repeated the call. Then he shut off his
switch and sat in silence listening for a reply. None came.

"They may be talking to somebody," he muttered. Again he called.
"WXY--WXY--WXY--CBC," he flashed again and again. Once more he sat quiet
and listened. At first he got no reply. Then, clear as a bell on a frosty
morning, a signal sounded in his ear: "CBC--CBC--CBC--I--I--I." (Charley
Russell--I'm here.)

Charley sighed with relief. "Got 'em," he said to the ranger. Then he
turned intently to his key.

"Please telephone District Forester Marlin at Oakdale instantly," he
rapped out. "Ranger Morton bitten rattlesnake. Send motor-car where
battery was delivered this morning. May need man help ranger. Bring
doctor. Tell wife get ready. Will listen for answer."

As Charley sat waiting for a reply, he studied the face of the ranger. It
was set hard. Courage was written on it plainly.

The ranger started to speak. "Don't talk," interrupted Charley. "Keep as
quiet as you can, and watch your bandages. If you keep them tight too long
it harms your blood somehow."

They sat in silence a while. Then Charley said, "I wish you didn't have to
walk, but I guess there's nothing for it but to hike out to the highway at