It was as if he assumed that a modern girl would prefer to do this herself, but Minga wilfully misunderstood him. The little scarlet figure seated on the log resented the authority back of the deep kind gaze bent upon her. It was a stinging new experience for Minga to be reminded of a duty, an experience like a smart blow on the lithe little body, only it had none of the brutality a blow must have; perhaps that was why it stung. Minga hunched one shoulder; her eyes snapped as she turned away. "You can put it out yourself," was her pert remark. There was a nervous giggle, then a sudden silence. The scene in the moonlight was significant. The loafing, negligent forms of the smoking youths, Sard standing vibrant, clear, but irresolute and waiting. Dunstan, the charmed faun look in his eyes, prone at Minga's feet. The culprit flushed and annoyed, the girls frankly open-mouthed and uncomprehending. Again the owlish-eyed tried to take command. "Allow me," with opera bouffe effect. He started toward the smoking cigarette, but, bowing very slightly with an almost curt gesture of refusal, Watts prevented him. "I am sorry, but in the capacity of fire warden, it is my duty to see that an ordinary camp regulation is obeyed." He turned to the provoked girl and, with very slight but intentional irony, asked, "Do you know the meaning of that word 'obey,' Miss Minga?" Slowly the girl rose and stared into his face. Deciding to say nothing, she gradually stiffened and a hard look came into her eyes. "I--refuse--to--I," she tried for a lofty tone, but her voice was flat and childish, "I--I am not accustomed----" "Exactly," said Watts quietly. "The Mede and the Persian haven't been successful with you in that, have they?--though they've let you become so charming. You see," he smiled, "I've heard of you, Miss Minga." At this the group writhed; one or two giggled a little uncertainly. "Insulting," breathed one lad dramatically. He put his hand first into one pocket and then the other; another cub person solemnly took out and considered a revolver but their host took little notice. "You see," said Watts, with an air of imparting information, "I believe in obedience--of course, I shan't order you to put out the cigarette, Miss Gerould, but obliged as I am to you all for this--er--interest, yet after all you are my guest and, well, guests, even in America, still like to consider the preferences of the host and my preference is to observe forest laws." There was an indeterminate silence. Loyalty to Minga, and their quick moving picture sense of outrage, made them wish to murder this man, who was so quiet and so direct. "Who," thought the owl-eyed, "was this stranger to command them all, order them around?" Yet the thought Watts had just expressed seemed to them rather obvious; they had come uninvited into this man's camp. It seemed only decency to observe the rules. As they stood uncomfortably irresolute, they saw with wide-open eyes a strange thing happen.