"Why, Ken, father says you've been reading
dime novels."
"Just wait, Hal, till he comes out here. I'll show him that forestry isn't
just bear-hunting."
My brother Hal and I were camping a few days on the Susquehanna River, and
we had divided the time between fishing and tramping. Our camp was on the
edge of a forest some eight miles from Harrisburg. The property belonged to
our father, and he had promised to drive out to see us. But he did not come
that day, and I had to content myself with winning Hal over to my side.
"Ken, if the governor lets you go to Arizona can't you ring me in?"
"Not this summer. I'd be afraid to ask him. But in another year I'll do it."
"Won't it be great? But what a long time to wait! It makes me sick to think
of you out there riding mustangs and hunting bears and lions."
"You'll have to stand it. You're pretty much of a kid, Hal--not yet
fourteen. Besides, I've graduated."
"Kid!" exclaimed Hal, hotly. "You're not such a Methuselah yourself! I'm
nearly as big as you. I can ride as well and play ball as well, and I can
beat you all--"
"Hold on, Hal! I want you to help me to persuade father, and if you get
your temper up you'll like as not go against me. If he lets me go I'll
bring you in as soon as I dare. That's a promise.
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