scratched. But they were a happy crew for all that. They had extinguished
what at first bade fair to be the worst fire ever seen in their district.

By this time every man in the gang had heard the story of Lumley's
dastardly act and Charley's quick wit. Most of the men lived in or near
the forest, and a great fire might have consumed their homes just as truly
as it would have destroyed the forest. It was small wonder, then, that to
a man they had only admiration and gratitude for Charley. The last vestige
of ill-will that any of them might have had for Charley was gone. Like men
of the forest, they said little. But Charley knew that this little meant
much. He had won the good-will and respect of every man in the district.
No wonder he was happy.

This thought did much to offset the feeling of regret that he could not
help experiencing at the realization that his days as a ranger were
numbered. When he became a patrol again, or a member of Jim's crew, for he
believed that Mr. Marlin would grant him that wish, he knew that he would
stand on a par with the men in their own estimation. So he waved good-bye
to the departing trucks with a mixture of happiness and regret.

But he was not allowed many hours to indulge in either emotion. Very early
next morning the telephone, which Ranger Morton had promptly repaired,
began to ring. Charley answered the call and received a brusque order from
the forester to remain at the tower, as the forester was coming out to see
him.

"I wonder if Mr. Marlin ever sleeps," said Charley to himself. "He's
probably on his way here now and I'm hardly out of bed. I'll make him a
cup of coffee and some toast anyway."