Now Charley got another insight into Lumley's character. It was a little
difficult to make the hole just where it was wanted. Lumley instantly
became impatient and went ahead recklessly. Suddenly his bit snapped. With
a volley of oaths, Lumley threw down his brace and hammered the broken bit
out of the window-frame. In doing so, he broke out a long splinter of
wood, leaving a gaping crack in the sash. He swore until he was out of
breath. Then he got some putty and puttied up the hole, forcing the putty
into the crack with his thumbs. Then the wire was brought in through the
sash and Charley began wiring up his instruments. But it had taken half an
hour to accomplish what five minutes of patience would have done. Charley
was utterly disgusted with the ranger's show of temper.

As he coupled up the instruments, he answered, as politely as he could,
the ranger's numberless questions. Behind every question he saw, or
thought he could see, some ulterior motive. By every means he could,
Lumley was trying to find out all that was possible about Charley and his
relations with the forester. And Charley could see that Lumley was envious
of his intimacy with Mr. Marlin and jealous of him because, though a mere
boy, he was already as high up in the service as Lumley was after years in
the department. Charley realized that this was an unfair way to view the
matter, as he, Charley, was not really a ranger, and did not expect to
continue as a ranger after Mr. Morton was well enough to resume his
duties. But he could see that Lumley took no account of that. He began to
understand that it was the man's nature to be suspicious and jealous.

That was clear enough from Lumley's remarks about himself; for again he
repeated the story of his family's former ownership of the big timber, and
of how he had been robbed of his heritage. Charley felt sure the man had
brooded over the matter until his judgment was warped. He listened,
however, without comment.