AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL
“Nobody answers, eh? That’s funny. Give me Burke, then, please, central.
Oh, I say. You don’t know where Larry is, do you? Petersen is on his
route and—What? Yes, please. If you locate him, tell him to go to
Petersen’s, find out about the fire, and call me up. Yes, I’ll be at the
station. Oh, hello, Burke. This is Chester. I wish you would ride over
to Petersen’s and take a look at that fire. Yes, the sooner you can let
me know the better.”
“Do you often have a fire break out on a rainy day?” asked Ted, as the
lookout swung around in his chair, after setting down his telephone
instrument.
“That’s just the point exactly,” said Chester, evidencing that the young
homesteader’s remark had fitted in with his own train of thought. “No
ordinary fire could break out after the soaking everything has had for
the last twelve hours, though the sun will be shining again in a couple
more.”
“Maybe it’s his house,” suggested Ted.
“That wouldn’t make so much smoke. It’s hardly big enough to turn round
in.”
“Then why not ride down and find out? Is it far?”
“Not very, but I want to wait here until I get a report.”
The expression on the boy’s face, as he heard this statement, showed
that he considered the lookout to be shirking his duties and, noting it,
Chester said:
“I know what’s in your mind. You think I’m too lazy to ride a few miles
in the rain. It isn’t that”; then he paused a moment, and looked
searchingly at his visitor before continuing: “You seem like the right
sort. If you weren’t, Andy Howe, Steve Anderson, and Si Hopkins wouldn’t
lift a finger for you, let alone doing all they could to help you. The
point is this. We are suspicious of Petersen. He’s had trouble with all
his neighbours. He set up a sawmill last winter, and they caught him
cutting trees beyond his lines. To cover this, he cut down the corner
trees. The matter is in court.”
“And he tried to steal one of our horses. But how would a fire help
him?”
“Remove the evidence that he had cut down the government trees and let
him swear that he thought he was cutting on his own land.”
“I see. Yet what could he set on fire that would burn after this rain?”
The outlook’s answer was forestalled by the buzzing of his telephone.
“Good for you, Larry!” he exclaimed, after listening a few minutes. “I
tried to raise you through central. So it’s in the sawdust pile, eh?
Reckon we’ve got Petersen this time. What, must have been burning
several days? It doesn’t make any difference if it has, I think he set
it just the same. Sure he didn’t see you there? Good. Yes, I sent Burke
over. Meet him and impress him and his men. I’ll send you some others.
Sure. Tunnelling is the only thing, I’m afraid. But be careful. That
pile must be forty feet high and a hundred and fifty long. It wouldn’t
take more than a minute to bury a hundred men. Yes, I’ll stay here. Let
me know how things are going. Yes, from Burke’s. Good luck and watch out
when you are tunnelling.” For many minutes after he had talked with the
patrolman, the lookout was busy calling up various settlers and ordering
them to go to the fire, finally notifying the district chief in whose
division Petersen’s homestead was located.
“Do you suppose those men will go?” asked Ted, as Chester set down his
telephone, picked up his telescope, and trained it on the smoke.
“You bet they will and anybody else I order. Cross my heart! but that’s
going to be some fire. Look, there is twice as much smoke as there was
before.” And he handed the telescope to the boy, who was amazed to see
several columns of smoke where there had been only one or two when he
had discovered it.
“But how can you know they’ll go?” queried Ted, returning to the subject
of collecting the band of fire-fighters.
“Because they can be arrested if they refuse. I’m a fire warden, all
lookouts are, and I can order anybody and everybody I see fit to fight a
fire, even you. It’s hard and dangerous work at a big fire and most men
don’t like it. So in order to insure a warden’s securing the necessary
assistance, it has been made law that men must go when ordered, on
penalty of imprisonment. It is the same in all States where there is a
fire patrol. Of course, our regular men are sent when they can be
spared.”
“I’m afraid I shouldn’t be much good. I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“You’d be told quick enough.” And the lookout began an explanation of
the various methods of stopping and fighting forest fires, from the
simple method of making furrow-checks with plows, hoes, and shovels for
the blaze that runs over the ground to back-firing, or starting a fire
in opposition when the wind is right to drive it toward the forest
fire—a method only used in desperate emergencies when the fire is beyond
control and leaping from tree to tree.
Finding a willing and eager listener in the young homesteader, Chester
was pointing out on the map and describing the biggest fires that had
occurred in his division, when his buzzer again rang.
“Ho? Oh, you, Mr. Jackson? Yes, sir, right away.” And hastily picking up
a notebook and pencils, he hurried toward his pony, saying: “Sorry, but
the district chief has sent for me. Wants to question Petersen and I’m
the only man he has handy who writes shorthand. Casey’s on his way to
serve here.”
With a rapidity that surprised Ted, the lookout had saddled and bridled,
then turned to help him. And at a pace that seemed foolhardy, the warden
was soon descending the trail, leaving the boy far behind.
“Better go back to your claim,” he shouted, as he reached the level.
“I’ve got to ride so hard you’d get lost trying to follow. See you again
sometime.”
And before the young homesteader could protest, for he was keen to
watch, and perhaps help, in the fire-fighting, Chester was out of sight.
“Good thing I paid especial attention to the trail when we rode over,”
said Ted to himself, as he turned Daisy toward E 1. “Some time, though,
old girl, they’ll find you and I can cover ground even if I am a
tenderfoot.”
As the lookout had predicted, the sun burst through the clouds before
the boy reached the shakedown, and its torrid rays were quickly drying
the trees.
Coming within sight of the thatched hut, Ted suddenly drew rein, as he
beheld a pony tied near the door.
“Wonder who it is this time.” And the boy’s hand dropped to his holster,
which Andy had cautioned the young homesteaders never to be without, in
view of the warning they had received.
But he withdrew his hand as quickly as he had lowered it when the person
who had ridden the strange pony, having heard his approach, appeared in
the doorway.
“Jennie, of all people!” gasped Ted, as he saw the crippled little
figure. “What on earth brought _you_ over here?” Then noting the shadow
of pain his abrupt words had sent to the girl’s face, he added hastily:
“I surely am mighty glad to see you. I was thinking of riding over this
afternoon.”
Her smile restored by these assurances, Jennie said:
“I came with a telegram for you.”
“A telegram? How did you get it when Andy is here?”
“It was sent to Hutchins when Chikau couldn’t be raised. The agent there
telephoned it over. I think it is important, so I brought it. Steve is
away and I took his horse.”
“Good girl. Where’s the message?”
“Pap was out when it came. I couldn’t write it, so I remembered it. It
said: ‘Phil and Ted Porter, Chikau. Your mother and sisters will arrive
Friday!’”
“Why, today is Friday!”
“I know it. That’s why I thought you ought to get it.”
“I should say ‘yes.’ But where’s it been all this time? You can’t travel
from Weston to Chikau in a few hours. Who sent it?”
“How do I know? I never was in Weston.”
“I mean who signed it. There’s always a signature to a telegram and a
date line, as well.”
“Oh dear! I didn’t pay ’tention to them. I never took a telegram before.
I thought it was just what it said that counted.” And Jennie’s face
puckered ready to cry. For she had been proud at being the bearer of the
message and had confidently expected praise instead of criticism.
“Never mind, so long as I know Momsy’s coming, that is the main thing.
But we haven’t much time to get to Chikau. How’s the road?” asked Ted,
as he hurried from the shakedown and began to harness the blacks.
“Toler’ble.”
“That’s better than it was when we rode over here.” And without more
words they filled the wagon with blankets and pillows to ease the
jouncing for the little mother, then tied Daisy and Jennie’s pony to the
tail.
“Almost forgot to leave a note for Phil and Andy,” exclaimed the boy as
he was climbing to the seat. Stepping down, he ran into the hut, hastily
scrawled, “Gone to meet Momsy and the girls,” and placed it on a branch
beside the door where it would not fail to attract attention.
“You’re sure it said Friday?” asked Ted, as they drove along.
“’Deed I am. I asked three or four times, ’special.”
“Funny it didn’t get here sooner. It must have been Dr. Blair who sent
it. At least, it sounds like—”
“Yes, that’s the name,” Jennie eagerly interrupted. “I wasn’t sure, so I
didn’t want to say.”
“And was it dated Weston or Boston, Mass.?”
“I don’t remember.”
The time passed quickly for the girl as she listened to her companion’s
account of his doings, but it seemed to Ted that they never would come
in sight of Peleg’s store.
“Gracious! it’s four o’clock,” he cried in dismay, looking at his watch.
“As they didn’t come this morning, they must be coming on 64 and she’s
due at five. How near are we?”
“Inside of five miles.”
“Then sit tight. I’ve got to trot if we’re going to cover five miles
over this road in time to meet the train.”
But the going was so rough that after almost being thrown under the
horses’ hoofs several times, the boy slowed down.
“Momsy’ll be disappointed if no one meets her,” he murmured.
“Let’s stand up back of the seat. Then you can trot,” suggested Jennie.
And doing so, they were soon bumping along at a smart pace.
“There’s the store,” gasped Ted, catching a glimpse of the welcome
landmark, and he urged the blacks faster.
“64’s just whistled,” announced Peleg, as the boy drew up in front of
the steps.
“Quick, take the reins, Jennie, and wait here. I can run to the station
faster than I can drive.” And jumping to the ground, the young
homesteader sped down the track, arriving in just time enough to recover
his breath as 64 stopped.
Warm were the greetings between the little mother and Ted and his
sisters, and they were prolonged until Sallie suddenly asked:
“Where’s Phil?”
“He’s sparking. It was only luck I got your telegram in time to get
here. It didn’t come until this morning, and if a little friend of mine
hadn’t ridden twenty-five miles, I should not have received it.”
“Must we travel twenty-five miles _more_ tonight?” groaned Margie. Then,
seeing nothing but trees all about, she asked: “How do we go, fly?”
“You will stay at Chikau tonight and we’ll drive home—just think, Momsy,
_home_—tomorrow.”
“But where is Chikau? I’ve been looking for it ever since I got off the
train,” declared the younger girl.
Before her brother could reply, however, Sallie exclaimed:
“Where’s the baggage man to give us our trunks? Here are our checks.”
“There, there, daughter. Give Ted time. We are in the wilderness, you
know,” interposed Mrs. Porter. But she did not prevent the avalanche of
caustic criticisms that the boy poured upon his sisters for their
unreasonableness and airs.
“Here comes somebody or something,” cried Margie, pointing to the woods,
and turning, they beheld the blacks driven by Jennie and Peleg.
“How do you like those horses? They are yours, Momsy,” said the young
homesteader, proudly.
Running out, Ted brought up the team, introduced the storekeeper and his
daughter, then helped his mother and sisters into the wagon, and merrily
they chatted and laughed as they bumped along to the settlement.
Taking Mrs. Porter to her room, Jennie bustled about getting supper,
assisted ably by Ted, while his sisters looked on delightedly as the boy
made a spider cake.
“Oh, our trunks! They haven’t been brought from the station yet,” cried
Sallie in alarm, as they were eating.
“Nobody will run off with them but a bear, and I shot the only one that
was around here,” chuckled Ted.
“_You?_” gasped his sisters. Whereat the boy hurried away and returned
with the pelt, which he had brought in the wagon, as evidence of his
marksmanship.
As they were seated about the store, talking, after supper, Steve came
in, and later, Phil.
“Why, Momsy looks better already just for the sight of you farmers,”
said Margie.