A half hour later and four thousand feet lower, the trail joined a wider and more traveled road. Alec turned onto the road and increased speed. A few minutes later, the Sno cars flashed by a sign reading "Elk City--4 miles." Alec cut speed and waited for Troy to pull alongside, then the two cars glided slowly to the edge of the wilderness community. At the outskirts of the little town the snow on the road came to an abrupt end. Chemically-treated paving kept the roadways warm and bare of snow. Ahead, the pavement into town was wet and glistening and even falling snow had stopped. Rear skis were again retracted and the front wheels lowered for non-snow driving and then the two vehicles rumbled slowly into Elk City. They came to a halt at the ranger station and dismounted. "Let's call for a taxi and then go for a cup of coffee and another bite," Troy said. "I'm starved again." "You and that hollow stomach to match your head," Alec grunted. They entered the ranger station. Behind the counter, one of the four rangers on permanent duty at the station was transferring a radar storm plot onto a weather chart. He glanced up as the two men entered. "Back so soon," he commented. "That was a quick trip. Get the job done?" "Neither rain, snow or sun stops the Division of Agriculture in its appointed rounds," Troy said flippantly. "Harry, call Spokane and tell 'em we're ready for a pickup, please." The ranger reached for a mike. "Spokane Region," he called, "this is Elk City station." "This is Spokane," came the reply. "Your two snow boys are here," Harry said, "looking for a lift. Can you send a 'copter after them?" "Affirmative, Elk City," Spokane communicator replied. "We'll pick them up in about forty-five minutes." "Thanks, Harry," Troy said. "We're going to take a walk uptown and get something to eat. If the chopper should get here sooner, tell him we'll be right back." "O.K.," the ranger said, "but there's a pot of coffee on the stove in the kitchen if you want to save yourself the walk." Alec grimaced. "I had a cup of that concentrated sulphuric acid you call coffee on the way up," he said. "No thanks, anyway. What do you make that stuff out of? Leftover road oil?" "Man's drink for a real man," the ranger grinned. "Us forestry men learn to make coffee from pine pitch. Makes a man outta you." "Huh," Alec sniffed as they turned to leave, "pine pitch is just sap and anyone who'd drink that stuff deserves the name--'sap' that is." The ranger grinned as the hydrologists walked out. * * * * *