The place fascinated me. I had not dreamed that a sawmill could be brought to such a pitch of mechanical perfection, and I wondered how long the timber would last at that rate of cutting. The movement and din tired me, and I went outside upon a long platform. Here workmen caught the planks and boards as they came out, and loaded them upon trucks which were wheeled away. This platform was a world in itself. It sent arms everywhere among the piles of lumber, and once or twice I was as much lost as I had been up in the forest. While turning into one of these byways I came suddenly upon Buell and another man. They were standing near a little house of weather-strips, evidently an office, and were in their shirt-sleeves. They had not seen or heard me. I dodged behind a pile of planks, intending to slip back the way I had come. Before I could move Buell's voice rooted me to the spot. “His name's Ward. Tall, well-set lad. I put Greaser after him the other night, hopin' to scare him back East. But nix!” “Well, he's here now--to study forestry! Ha! ha!” said the other. “You're sure the boy you mean is the one I mean?” “Greaser told me so. And this boy is Leslie's friend.” “That's the worst of it,” replied Buell, impatiently. “I've got Leslie fixed as far as this lumber deal is concerned, but he won't stand for any more. He was harder to fix than the other rangers, an' I'm afraid of him.” he's grouchy now. “You shouldn't have let the boy get here.” “Stockton, I tried to prevent it. I put Greaser with Bud an' Bill on his trail. They didn't find him, an' now here he turns up.” “Maybe he can be fixed.” “Not if I know my business, he can't; take that from me. This kid is straight. He'll queer my deal in a minute if he gets wise. Mind you, I'm gettin' leary of Washington. We've seen about the last of these lumber deals. If I can pull this one off I'll quit; all I want is a little more time. Then I'll fire the slash, an' that'll cover tracks.” “Buell, I wouldn't want to be near Penetier when you light that fire. This forest will burn like tinder.” “It's a whole lot I care then. Let her burn. Let the Government put out the fire. Now, what's to be done about this boy?” “I think I'd try to feel him out. Maybe he can be fixed. Boys who want to be foresters can't be rich. Failing that--you say he's a kid who wants to hunt and shoot--get some one to take him up on the mountain.” “See here, Stockton. This young Ward will see the timber is bein' cut clean. If it was only a little patch I wouldn't mind. But this slash an' this mill! He'll know. More'n that, he'll tell Leslie about the Mexican. Dick's no fool. We're up against it.” “It's risky, Buell. You remember the ranger up in Oregon.” “Then we are to fall down on this deal all because of a fresh tenderfoot kid?” demanded Buell. “Not so loud.... We'll not fall down. But caution--use caution. You made a mistake in trusting so much to the Greaser.”