"Now this slashing business," went on the old lumberman in a more moderate tone. "When the millennium comes, it would be a fine thing to clear up the old slashings." He turned suddenly to Bob. "How long do you think it would take you with a crew of a dozen men to cut and pile the waste stuff in 18?" he inquired. Bob cast back the eye of his recollection to the hopeless tangle that cumbered the ground. "Oh, Lord!" he ejaculated; "don't ask me!" "If you were running a business would you feel like stopping work and sending your men--whom you are feeding and paying--back there to pile up that old truck?" Bob's mind, trained to the eager hurry of the logging season, recoiled from this idea in dismay. "I should say not!" he cried. Then as a second thought he added: "But what they want is to pile the tops while the work is going on." "It takes just so much time to do so much work," stated Welton succinctly, "and it don't matter whether you do it all at once, or try to fool yourself by spraddling it out." He pulled strongly at his pipe. "Forest Reserves are all right enough," he acknowledged, "and maybe some day their theories will work out. But not now; not while taxes go on!" III One day, not over a week later, Bob working in the woods, noticed California John picking his way through the new slashing. This was a difficult matter, for the fresh-peeled logs and the debris of the tops afforded few openings for the passage of a horse. The old man made it, however, and finally emerged on solid ground, much in the fashion of one climbing a bank after an uncertain ford. He caught sight of Bob. "You fellows can change the face of the country beyant all belief," announced the old man, pushing back his hat. "You're worse than snow that way. I ought to know this country pretty well, but when I get down into one of your pesky slashings, I'm lost for a way out!" Bob laughed, and exchanged a few commonplace remarks. "If you can get off, you better come over our way," said California John, as he gathered up his reins. "We're holding ranger examinations--something new. You got to tell what you know these days before you can work for Uncle Sam." "What do you have to know?" asked Bob. "Come over and find out." Bob reflected. "I believe I will," he decided. "There's nothing to keep me here."