“Sit down and make yourself at home,” said Tom. “You for the state or federal government?” “Oh, state,” the visitor answered, so briskly that Tom felt chided for his ignorance. “You know they’re building a dam over here by Brundige Mountain----” “Oh, yes, I know,” said Tom. “They’ve got the old road turned into a quagmire,” said the government man, contemplating his boots ruefully through his rimless glasses. “We’re going to bring some of the cement in through here and fill some of the trees; cut down the waste.” “You mean the trees?” Brent asked. “Oh, no,” the visitor laughed. “Just put cement in where the trees are starting to decay; _filling_ we call it; tree dentistry.” “It’s a mighty good thing, too,” said Tom; “a stitch in time. They’re doing a lot of that work up in the Catskills.” “Well, they’re not going far into the woods--they can’t,” the visitor said, in his brisk, sociable way. “You fellows smoke?” “I’ll take a cigarette,” said Brent. “You see it’s only when a dam or something like that is built away back that we can ring in a little of this work. We graft on the engineering enterprise and get some cement. Wherever you find construction work going on in the woods or mountains, you’ll find some tree doctoring going on; sort of by-product.” “It gives you a good chance,” said Tom. “I suppose you go ahead of the men and mark the trees?” “Yes, and half the time they don’t get around to the trees I mark.” “You come from Buffalo?” Brent asked. “Buffalo and all over. I chalked, I guess, five hundred trees up in that region. Ever been in the Great Lakes section?” “No,” said Tom. “I saw a Buffalo imprint in your hat that you left----” “Yes, I don’t wear one half the time; just let my hair grow long. A hat’s a blame nuisance climbing trees. I was wondering if you fellows could put me up here for a few days?” “We sure could,” said Tom. “The place don’t belong to us; we’re just camping here.” “Gulch, they call it--or Gully or something or other?” “Rattlesnake Gulch,” said Tom. “Some name, huh?” “Don’t look much like Broadway,” laughed the visitor. “There aren’t many dances,” said Brent. The visitor laughed heartily--a friendly, appreciative laugh. “Well, I’m not likely to bother you much,” he said. “I’m going to chalk up some trees around Brundige Mountain, then maybe I’ll drop in here to-morrow, and, if you don’t mind, I’ll make a headquarters here for a few days--just bunk in a corner.” “You can have the bridal suite in the lean-to,” said Brent. “Nothing is too good for Uncle Sam.” “Father Knickerbocker you mean,” said Tom. “Guess that old guy means New York City, doesn’t he?” the conservation man asked, rising, “or maybe he stands for the state at that,” he added, giving his khaki trousers a perfunctory brushing. “Well, the state conservation bunch can bunk in here any time,” Tom said heartily. “Do you do cross-word puzzles?” Brent asked. “’Fraid not,” the visitor laughed. “Well, I’ll see you later.”