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THE YOUNG TIMBER-CRUISERS

Big Nick and his gang under cover,” Stanley sought to encourage.

“I’d almost prefer to dodge a hot bullet to catching wet rain drops all day,” grumbled Abner, viciously pushing his way through some undergrowth. “Come on; we’ll make a start.”

With a doleful grin Bub winked at Stanley and fell in behind. For two hours the three climbed and fought their way up the side of the ridge. Then Abner came to a halt and began hunting for the warden’s blaze.

“He said I’d be sure to find it and could depend upon it,” growled Abner after several minutes of vain effort. “He didn’t know what he was talking about. I’ll bet there ain’t a mark within a mile of here. Most likely he started in at the other end of—”

“Possibly this is it,” broke in Stanley, pulling aside some rain laden boughs and revealing a chipped trunk.

“Wal, he must have took pains to hide it,” crustily acknowledged Abner.

But with the finding of the blaze Abner’s temper improved a trifle. In his zeal to run out the old line he forgot the rain in a measure and his eyes regained some of their old light as he eagerly worked his way due north.