"Think so?" doubted California John. "I know it. Now comes the new idea. We no longer speak of Forest Reserves, but of National Forests. We've saved them; now what are we going to do with them? What would you think of a man who cleared a 'forty,' and pulled all the stumps, and then quit work?" "I never thought of that," said California John, "but what's that got to do with these confounded whelps " "We are going to use these forests for the benefit of the people. We're going to cut the ripe trees and sell them to the lumber manufacturer; we're going to develop the water power; we're going to improve the grazing; we're going to study what we have here, so that by and by from our forests we will be getting the income the lumberman now gets, and will not be injuring the estate. Each Forest is going to be a big and complicated business, like railroading or wholesaling. Anybody can run Martin's store down at the Flats. It takes a trained man to oversee even a proposition like the Star at White Oaks." "Oh, I see what you're drivin' at," said California John, "but I've made good up to now; and until they try me out, they've no right to fire me. I'll defy 'em to find anythin' crooked! ! !" "John, you're as straight as a string. But they have tried you out. Your office work has been away off." "Oh, that! What's those dinkey little reports and monkeydoodle business amount to, anyhow? You know perfectly well it's foolish to ask a ranger to fill out an eightpage blank every time he takes a ride. What does that amount to?" "Not very much," confessed Thorne. "But when things begin to hum around here there'll be a thousand times as much of the same sort of stuff, and it'll all be important." "They'd better get me a clerk." "They would get you a clerk, several of them. But no man has a right to even boss a job he doesn't himself under stand. What do you know about timber grading? estimating? mapping? What is your scientific training —?” "I've give my soul and boot-straps to this Service for nine years at sixty and ninety a month," interrupted California John. "Part of that I spent for tools they was too stingy to give me. Now they kick me out." "Oh, no, they don't," said Thorne. "Not any! But you agree with me, don't you, that you couldn't hold down the job?" "I suppose so," snapped California John. "To hell with such a game. I think I'll go over Goldfield way." "No, you won't," said Thorne gently. "You'll stay here, in the Service." "What!" cried the old man rising to his feet; "stay here in the Service! And every mountain man to point me out as that old fool Davidson who got fired after workin' nine years like a damn ijit. You talk foolish!" Thorne arose too, and put one hand on the old man's shoulder. "And what about those nine years?" he asked gently. "Things looked pretty dark, didn't they? You didn't have enough to live on; and you got your salary docked without any reason or justice; and you had to stand one side while the other fellows did things dishonest and wrong; and it didn't look as though it was ever going to get better. Nine years is a long time. Why did you do it?" "I don't know," muttered California John. "It was just waiting for this time that is coming. In five years we'll have the people with us; we'll have Congress, and the money to do things; we'll have sawmills and water-power, and regulated grazing, and telephone lines, and comfortable quarters. We'll have a Service safeguarded by Civil Service, and a body of disciplined men, and officers as the Army and Navy have. It's coming; and it's coming soon You've been nine years at the other thing" "It's humiliating," insisted California John, "to do a job well and get fired." "You'll still have just the job you have now - - only you'll be called a head-ranger. "My people won't see it that way.' Ashley Thorne hesitated. "No, they won't," said he frankly at last. "I could argue on the other side; but they won't. They'll think you've dropped back a peg; and they'll say to each other-at least some of them will: 'Old Davidson bit off more than he could chew; and it serves him right for being a damn fool, anyway.' You've been content to play along misunderstood for nine years because you had faith. Has that faith deserted you?" California John looked down, and his erect shoulders shrunk forward a little. "Old friend," said Thorne, "it's a sacrifice. Are you going to stay and help me?" California John for a long time studied a crack in the floor. When he looked up his face was illuminated with his customary quizzical grin. "I've sure got it on Ross Fletcher," he drawled. "I done told him I wasn't no supervisor, and he swore I was." |