He baited his hook with a crayfish, and cautiously made his way toward the brink of the brook. Half-way he paused and straightened up, sniffing the air. Then he turned and looked at Lew. "Smell anything?" he asked. Lew had also detected a taint in the fresh morning air. "Smells like smoke," he said. "Probably some fisherman cooking his breakfast." Charley turned toward the brook again, then once more faced his companion. "People don't cook with leaves," he said soberly. "That isn't wood smoke, that's burning leaves." For a moment the two boys looked at each other in silence. "You don't suppose----" began Lew, but Charley cut him short. "Let's make sure. Which way is that smoke coming from?" He stepped to the brook and dipped a finger in the cold water. Then he held his hand aloft. "There's so little wind stirring I can't tell which way it's blowing," he said. "One side of my finger feels as cold as the other." Again he tried it. There was just a suggestion of an air current. "Seems to be blowing straight up the valley," he said. "I'll try a match," said Lew. He took his waterproof match box from his pocket and drew forth a match, which he lighted on his heel. "You're right," he said. "The flame blows up-stream a little. What shall we do?" "It doesn't seem possible that the woods can be afire," answered Charley. "But let's make sure. If the forest is afire and we can put it out, it would be a crime if we don't. The memory of it would haunt me the rest of my life." "All right. We'll go down-stream. If there is a fire, we'll do our best to put it out. If there isn't any fire, there's no harm done. We can probably find as many fish down-stream as there are here. We'll save time if we unjoint our rods." Quickly the lines were reeled up and the rods packed in their cloth cases. Then, with nothing to hamper them, the two boys hurried down the valley. Gradually the odor of burning leaves grew stronger. A very little breeze arose, blowing straight in their faces. It was heavy with the smell of fire. Ahead of them the forest began to look gray and misty, as though a heavy night fog still covered the earth. But both boys knew that the gray blanket was no night mist. It was smoke. They quickened their pace. The smoke cloud grew denser. Then a dull, reddish glow appeared. There could no longer be any doubt. The forest was afire. "Come on," cried Charley. "We've got to grab it quick." As they started to run, Lew protested: "Not too fast. We'll tire ourselves out before we get there. We may have a long fight before we put the fire out." The smoke now rolled past them in dense clouds. The red glow grew brighter. In a few moments they reached the fire itself. It was in an opening where the timber had been cut and little but brush remained. It was a ground fire that crept slowly along among the leaves. Yet it had already spread until it seemed to stretch across half the valley.