"There's the trouble," said
he. "What's to keep a spark or a coal from that old coon from falling or
rolling on the wrong side of the line? If it happens when none of us are
around, why the fire gets a start. And maybe a coal will roll down hill
from somewhere; or a breeze come up and carry sparks. One spark over
here," he stamped his foot on the brushed line, "and it's all to do over
again. There's six of us," added the ranger, "and a hundred of these
trees near the line. By rights there ought to be a man camped down near
every one of them."
"Give us our orders," repeated Bob.
"The orders are to patrol the fire line," said Morton. "If you find the
fire has broken across, corral it. If it gets too strong for you, shoot
your six-shooter twice. Keep a-moving, but take it easy and save
yourself for to-morrow. About two o'clock, or so, I'll shoot three
times. Then you can come to camp and get a little sleep. You got to be
in shape for to-morrow."
"Why especially to-morrow?" asked Bob.
"Fire dies in the cool of night; it comes up in the middle of the day,"
explained Morton succinctly.
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