"
Thorne laid aside his broad hat, and at once with keen concentration
attacked the tabulations. Plant sat back watching him. Occasionally the
fat man yawned. When Thorne had digested the epitome of the financial
end, he reached for the bundles of documents.
"That's just receipts and requisitions," said Plant, "and such truck.
It'll take you an hour to wade through that stuff."
"Any objections to my doing so?" asked Thorne.
"None," replied Plant drily.
"Now rangers' reports," requested Thorne at the end of another busy
period.
"What, that flapdoodle?" cried Plant. "Nobody bothers much with that
stuff! A man has to write the history of his life every time he gets a
pail of water."
"Do I understand your ranger reports are remiss?" insisted Thorne.
"Lord, there they are. Wish you joy of them. Most of the boys have
mighty vague ideas of spelling."
At noon Thorne knocked off, announcing his return at one o'clock. Most
inspectors would have finished an hour ago. At the gate he paused.
"This place belong to you or the Government?" he asked.
"To me," replied Plant. "Mighty good little joint for the mountains,
ain't it?"
"Why have you a United States Forest Ranger working on the fences then?"
inquired Thorne crisply.
Pages:
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377