The Young Wireless Operator-As a Fire Patrol Part 28

"I'll send them out by the doctor in the morning," said the forester.

Charley showed Mrs. Morton how to wire the cells and couple them to the instruments. Then he told her how to adjust her spark-gap and tune the instrument to any given wave-length. He compared his watch with the clock on the wall.

"At eight o'clock every night," he said, "I will call you up. Suppose you take Mr. Morton's initials as your call signal. What are they?"

"J. V. M.," replied Mrs. Morton.

"Very well. Then at eight o'clock every night I will call J. V. M. slowly a number of times. Then I will tick off the alphabet slowly and the numerals one to ten. You listen in, and if the sounds are blurred or not sharp, tune your instrument as I have shown you until you can hear distinctly. If you make the letters with a pencil as you read them, it may help you. I'm sure you will soon learn to read. I'll repeat the alphabet and the numbers three times slowly. Then I'll listen in for five or ten minutes. If you want to try to call me, give my signal and follow it with your own, thus: 'CBC--CBC--CBC--JVM.' That means 'Charley Russell--James Morton calling.' If I hear you, I will send the letters 'JVM--JVM--JVM--I--I--I.' That means 'James Morton--I am here.' Then you can begin to send your message. I hope we'll be able to talk to each other very soon."

"It won't be my fault if we don't," smiled the ranger's wife.

"Now I must be off," said Charley. "I've no doubt Mr. Marlin is getting impatient. We'll just clean up this mess and then I'll go."

"I'll clean things up," insisted Mrs. Morton.

"No; I made the mess and I'll clean it up," protested Charley.

He began to pile the torn pieces of pasteboard together so he could thrust them into the stove. The bottom of the pasteboard box had been built up with several layers of pasteboard, evidently cut from other boxes. Charley took them out one at a time, preparatory to crumpling up the box itself.

As he lifted the last layer of pasteboard he stopped in blank amazement.

Then he called excitedly for Mr. Marlin. Before him lay a piece of green pasteboard exactly like the charred fragment taken from the ash heap in the burned forest.

Chapter XIX

The Forester's Problem

For a moment the two men looked at each other in astonishment. Then, "Keep that," said the forester. "We'll talk the matter over on our way back."

Mrs. Morton, not comprehending what had happened, also looked astonished.

But like the wise woman she was, she held her peace. Charley tossed the other pasteboards in the fire, stuffed the green piece in his pocket, and said good-bye to his new friend. The forester, after telephoning to his office, followed Charley, and a moment later the two were spinning up the road toward the fire trail.

"I can't understand it," said Charley. "Here's a package direct from Lew, with the very clue we're looking for, and Lew never said a word about it.

I can't understand it. I'm certain Lew sent the box. That was his handwriting on it. And I'm just as sure he never saw that bit of pasteboard, for Lew would never slip up that way. I just can't understand it."

They reached the point where Charley was to leave the car and plunge into the forest. But Mr. Marlin, instead of stopping his motor, turned into a natural opening in the woods and drove slowly among the forest trees. In a moment he ran the car into a stand of pines, where it was protected by the dense tops above and well hidden from sight of the highway.

"You couldn't get in here with anything but a Henry," laughed the forester. "This old bus has taken me lots of places you would never have believed possible."

He took the key from the switch on the dashboard, and the two stepped to the ground. Charley wondered what the forester intended to do, but by this time he knew enough not to ask questions. The forester started up the trail with him. When they came to the big battery Charley understood, for without a word the forester took Charley's little axe and began to chop poles to carry the battery with. In a few moments these handles were bound fast. The forester tossed the traps over his shoulder. Charley tied the amplifier box to his belt. Then they picked up the battery and started toward camp.

Suddenly Charley stopped. "By George!" he cried. "I forgot all about the pup. I wonder where he got to."

He whistled and whistled, but apparently in vain. They went on, and at intervals Charley whistled for the dog while he and the forester were resting. Still no dog appeared. Charley's face grew long. "Gee! I'll miss that pup," he said regretfully. "Why didn't I think of him sooner?"

Night was at hand when the two reached Charley's camp. Nothing had been disturbed. Charley took advantage of the remaining daylight to couple up the battery and the amplifier to his wireless. He tested the outfit and found he had a strong spark that cracked like a whip when he touched the key.

"Look at that!" he cried. "Now I feel better. I can always get into communication with somebody now."

"You aren't a bit more pleased than I am, Charley," smiled the forester.

"I'll take back all I ever said about the wireless. If Morton can learn to talk by wireless, the rest of my crew can also. When the dull season comes, I'll start a radio school with you as instructor and we'll make every man in the service learn to operate the wireless. The Department ought to be glad to supply a good outfit; but if we can't get the money, we can at least make some outfits like yours. We're going on a wireless basis or my name is not Marlin."

The forester was interrupted by a joyous bark and in rushed Charley's pup.

"You blessed little fellow," said Charley, fondling the animal. "I suppose you lost our trail when we got into the motor-car and you probably hung around the battery all day and followed our trail back here. That's pretty good. You've got great stuff in you, pup. The next thing I teach you will be to stand guard over things as you probably did over that battery to-day."

Darkness fell. Supper was cooked and eaten. "Have you heard that cat lately, Charley?" asked the forester.

"No," replied Charley, "but I think I'll put the traps out anyway."

"We can attract it even if it isn't near by," said the forester. "Have you a can of salmon that you can spare?"

"Sure."

"Then give me the traps and bring your can."

Charley got the things asked for. The forester, taking the flash-light, led the way through the thicket to the open forest. At some distance from the camp the forester stopped and turned the beam from the search-light upward. Finally he found what he was looking for--a small branch about seven feet from the ground. Then he cut the top of the salmon can, and punching holes in the sides near the top, fastened a string to the can and suspended the can from the limb. Then he set the traps in a circle under the can, fastening the chains to convenient saplings, and threw two or three small pieces of the salmon on the ground within the circle of traps.

Then they made their way back to camp.

Charley lighted a little friendship fire in the fireplace the ranger had made, and the two sat down beside the flames. It was little more than three weeks since Charley had first entered the forest. During that time he had really seen very little of the forester. Yet as he sat beside his chief, Charley felt as though he had known him always. A common emotion had drawn them close together this day, and somehow Charley believed that his feeling of affection for his chief was fully reciprocated. For a time they sat in silence, each busy with his own thoughts.

"Charley," said the forester, after a time, "this accident to Jim hits me pretty hard. It not only leaves the finest piece of forest under my care without a direct overseer at the most dangerous time of the year, but there were so many things we had planned to do this spring that cannot be done without a ranger to supervise them. To be sure, I could transfer a ranger here, but I have work for every man in his particular district.

Besides, n.o.body knows this territory like Jim. I believe you know it better than anybody besides Jim. I only wish you were old enough to take his place for a time.

"We're away behind with our planting, and there are trails to be brushed out, new ones to be cut, roads to be built, camp sites to be selected, timber to be cruised, a big lumber operation to be watched and the trees to be marked for cutting and the lumber scaled, improvement cuttings to be made, camp sanitation to be enforced, a fire-tower to be built on the mountain here where your watch tree is. There's a tremendous lot of work that Jim and I had mapped out for the spring and summer.

"Now it looks as though we should not be able to get any of it done. We can't do a thing without a ranger to direct operations. Part of the timber to be cut is in Lumley's district. He joins you here on the north.

He will look after all the lumbering in his territory, and I may have to let him take charge of it all. It's a big operation and will have to be watched closely. I just wish I knew where I could find a man capable of taking Jim's place for a while."

"What will the ranger have to do in looking after this operation?"

"He'll have to mark the trees to be cut and see that only those marked are cut; and he'll have to make sure the regulations are observed in felling the trees and disposing of the tops; and finally he'll have to scale the lumber and make sure that the state gets paid for all that is cut."

"What is there so difficult about that?" demanded Charley. "Tell me what sort of trees are to be cut, and I can select and mark them as well as the next man. And if you give me a copy of the regulations, I can tell whether or not the lumbermen are observing them. If I can't make them live up to regulations, I can easily report to you. And as for scaling timber, that's a mere matter of arithmetic. I could learn to do that in five minutes.

Couldn't I help you with the lumbering? And as for the other jobs, Mr.

Marlin, give me some books that tell about them and let me study up on them. I could put in several hours here every night in study. You don't know how much I could learn in a week. And then you could give me some practical lessons after I had studied up the theory of things. I'm sure I can do lots of the work you were counting on Mr. Morton to do. Won't you let me help you?"

"Bless your heart, Charley! I know you mean every word you say. But you don't realize the difficulties you would encounter. Your chief job would be in handling men, tough men some of them, too. You could never do it, never. But I certainly wish you were old enough to attempt it. There's n.o.body I'd trust sooner than you, Charley. You've got a good education, and you think quickly and clearly. You've been equal to every emergency you've faced yet."

"Then why isn't that a pretty good reason to trust me further?"

"Trust you, Charley? I trust you absolutely. But you are too young. You could never do it."

Charley said no more. The hope that had sprung up in his heart died as suddenly as it had been born. In his heart he believed that with all the study and effort he was willing to put into it, he could do a ranger's work all right. But he saw it was not to be.

"Anyway," he muttered to himself, "I'm going to be a ranger some day, and I'll show the chief now that I'm the best fire patrol he ever had. That's the best way to qualify for promotion."