The Crisis



The forester hastened down the highway at a A tremendous pace. Charley set
out along the forest road he had so recently built. Before he knew it, he
was running madly. He ran for a long distance, hardly conscious that he
was running. Presently he stopped from very fatigue. Then he realized that
he was greatly excited and that he was running from sheer nervousness.

"This won't do at all," he muttered to himself. "You're worse than an old
hen. If ever you needed to keep your head, it's right now."

He took a grip on himself, drew a long breath, and settled to a fast walk,
thinking hard. He could not see how he himself could accomplish the arrest
of Lumley. If his chief did not think it advisable to attempt it, he was
very certain that he ought not to try it himself. And he was glad at the
thought. For he could not help but recall the wicked gleam in Lumley's
eyes, the man's savage outburst of temper, and his vicious talk. He
understood well enough that Lumley would not submit to arrest without a
struggle.

Then the thought came to him that he had no business trying to arrest
Lumley, even if he could do it. The chief was attending to that and the
chief knew best what to do under the circumstances. Also, the chief had
given him his orders. His business was to obey orders. And those orders
were to take care of the forest.

Fresh alarm seized him. Why had the forester given him those orders? Was
there danger of any one's setting fire to the forest? At the thought