"
"Kenneth, I see you're in dead earnest about this business," said my
father, slowly. "Before I came out here today I had been looking up the
subject, and I believe, with you, that forestry really means the salvation
of our country. I think you are really interested, and I've a mind not to
oppose you."
"You'll never regret it. I'll learn; I'll work up. Then it's an outdoor
life--healthy, free--why! all the boys I've told take to the idea. There's
something fine about it." "Forestry it is, then," replied he. "I like the
promise of it, and I like your attitude. If you have learned so much while
you were camping out here the past few summers it speaks well for you. But
why do you want to go to Arizona?"
"Because the best chances are out West. I'd like to get a line on the
National Forests there before I go to college. The work will be different;
those Western forests are all pine. I've a friend, Dick Leslie, a fellow I
used to fish with, who went West and is now a fire ranger in the new
National Forest in Arizona--Penetier is the name of it. He has written me
several times to come out and spend a while with him in the woods."
"Penetier? Where is that--near what town?"
"Holston. It's a pretty rough country, Dick says; plenty of deer, bears,
and lions on his range.
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