“Well, now that everything is going all right at the camp here, I suppose we might as well say goodbye to our friends and get ready for the return to the West Branch and resume our duties on the forest fire patrol,” remarked Garfield Boone to his chums as they sat in the crude office of the lumber camp.
“Yes, this seems to be the best thing to do, but I almost dislike the thought of going back. After all the excitement that we’ve had lately, it will be dead slow on the hill. Nothing to do but walk the patrol and take our turns in the Tin Can,” agreed Phil Durant.
The third member of the trio of friends, tried and true, merely yawned and said nothing. This was Dick Wallace, rather a heavy chap. Some people would have called him fat, but he always referred to himself as merely plump.
“Come, say something, Dick. You’ve been sitting here for an hour and the most you’ve said is yes or no, sometimes you didn’t even say that. What’s the trouble?” inquired Garry.
“Gosh, can’t you fellows see that I’m just resting? You want me to say something? All right. I wonder what we’ll have for dinner today?”
His friends broke into hearty laughter. Dick’s appetite was a standing joke with them, likewise his weight; for he always took the easiest way of doing things when speed was not required. This does not mean that the fat youth was a shirker or naturally lazy. When occasion demanded it, he was all speed and as quick as a flash of lightning. Like many heavy people, he could move with the utmost celerity if need be, but his attitude was why hurry when you didn’t have to. Time enough for that when something arose that demanded action.
“I say, boys, there’s old Lawrence with a mail bag. You know he went to town at daybreak to get the mail. Wonder if there’s anything for us?” remarked Phil, as he spied the old lumberjack coming towards them.
“Shouldn’t wonder if there was a letter from home for some of us,” answered Garry, as he stuck his head out of the door and called to the man to bring them what mail there was.
“Three for Garry, one apiece for the rest of you,” said Lawrence, as he handed them the small bundle of envelopes.
The boys made a dive for the mail and soon each was busily engaged in perusing the letter or letters sent him.
As they are reading their letters, let us get acquainted with the heroes of this coming volume. Those of our readers who have read the preceding four volumes in this series, “The Ranger Boys to the Rescue,” “The Ranger Boys Find the Hermit,” “The Ranger Boys and the Border Smugglers,” and “The Ranger Boys Outwit the Timber Thieves,” are already acquainted with the trio and the stirring adventures they have had. For the benefit of others, however, we will give a slight history of what they have done.
The three boys, whose names we already know, have just finished their junior year in high school, and while wondering what to do for their last vacation together, are told by Garry’s father, a wealthy timberland owner, that he will get them places in the Maine Forest Ranger Service.
The duty of the men on this service is to patrol the forests constantly on the lookout for forest fires, and if any are discovered, to report them promptly, as well as trying to do what they can to put out the blaze.
A short way up the river near their home the boys have a shack, and one afternoon they go there to find it occupied by three tramps who seize Phil and Garry. Dick makes his escape and brings help from town.
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