They shouldered their implements and felt their way in the darkness over
the tumbled rock outcrop. As they surmounted the shoulder of the hill,
they saw once more flickering before them the fire line.
V
Charley Morton received the lunch with joy.
"Ain't had time to get together grub since we came," said he, "and
didn't know when I would."
"What do you want us to do?" asked Bob.
"The fire line's drawn right across from Granite Creek down there in the
canon over to a bald dome. We got her done an hour ago, and pretty well
back-fired. All we got to do now is to keep her from crossing anywheres;
and if she does cross, to corral her before she can get away from us."
"I wish we could have got here sooner!" cried Bob, disappointed that the
little adventure seemed to be flattening out.
"So?" commented Charley drily. "Well, there's plenty yet. If she gets
out in one single, lonesome place, this fire line of ours won't be worth
a cent. She's inside now--if we can hold her there." He gazed
contemplatively aloft at a big dead pine blazing merrily to its very
top. Every once in a while a chunk of bark or a piece of limb came
flaring down to hit the ground with a thump.
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