“Why are you so sure that there is a firebug?” asked Bill.

“When we came back from Roseburg there were but twelve fires burning in the whole state,” replied Earl Simmons. “Eleven of them were new ones which had been started by lightning, and the twelfth was the large one over near Three Fingered Jack in the Sanitaur Forest. The air was entirely clear of smoke and it looked as if the fire season was over.

“The tourists have all cleared out of the forest with the rains, thereby eliminating any further trouble with them. It is too early for the hunters to start out, and accordingly we won’t have any need to worry about their carelessness for a while. The lightning fires were all under control on the day following their start. The large fire over in Sanitaur was almost extinguished by the rain and is now under control. That being the case, according to all past precedents, I was entirely justified in believing that the fire season was over.

“Now what happens? Without any reason new fires break out over in the Buck Peak—Mary’s Peak region. Are they like normal fires? They are not. The first one starts in the vicinity of Buck Peak and they break out at almost regular distances toward the north. It may be a coincidence that they are at regular distances, and each succeeding one starts at about the time that it would have taken a man to arrive from the last one. I don’t think so. I think that there is some maniac over there who is deliberately setting the woods on fire. Will you help me get him?”

“I am perfectly willing to go out and try,” replied Bill. “However, I don’t think that we will make as effective a team as if I had someone in the rear seat who could use the radio.”

“Who says that I can’t use the radio?” asked Earl. “I was a commercial telegraph operator for several years. Furthermore, I have had a radio of my own ever since they came into common use. Why, during the winter months I amuse myself by building them. If you don’t think that I can operate the set in the back of your plane, ask Liggett.”

“The joke’s on you,” remarked Liggett, who was standing by listening to the conversation. “Earl has been operating these sets ever since we arrived.”

“Then why the deuce didn’t you send out a few messages when we were making that special patrol and were caught in the storm?” asked Bill.

“Why didn’t you release the generator propeller before we started, and I would have,” replied Earl.

“I give up,” said Bill. “We will start out whenever you are ready.”

“I want to get together with you and study the map before we start,” said Earl.

“Will you go out on the regular patrol or be an extra one?” asked Captain Smith. “It is time for the regular patrol to start.”

“You had better let the regular patrol go out as usual and then we will not arouse the suspicions of the firebug if we get started a little late,” replied Earl.

“Here’s the way that I figure this thing out,” said Earl as he and Bill sat at a table with a map spread out in front of them. “This fellow, whoever he is, is traveling by auto. He either goes into the woods as far as he can with his auto and then travels a short distance on foot and starts these fires, or he gets out of his car and then starts the fires without walking any farther than is necessary to insure the safety of his car. Once he has started a fire, he gets into his car and travels north for a few miles on the nearest road and repeats the performance.”

“The location of the fires would indicate that something like that is happening,” replied Bill.

“Now, here’s my plan for catching him,” said Earl. “We will wait for the report of the patrol which is just starting. That will give us the location of any new fires. Once we plot them on the map, we can make a guess as to the place where he will probably start the next one. We can get there by plane almost as soon as he can by auto. Accordingly, if he works true to form, we will catch him in the act. That is, of course, providing that you are willing to fly low enough to see a single man running along a road.”

“I think that you have your nerve in even suggesting that I might not be willing to fly low over the timber after what we have been through together,” replied Bill.

“All right then,” said Earl. “As soon as we determine the spot where we think we will need help, I will notify the nearest forest headquarters equipped with radio. They will have some forestry men standing by in an auto who will be dispatched to the place where we direct them from our radio. From then on we will have to drop messages on the auto and direct them in the chase. How does it look?”

“Entirely feasible,” said Bill. “All we have to do now is to wait for the patrol plane to report the new fires, if any, in that district.”

The patrol had not been out for more than twenty-five minutes before it was sending in fire reports. The first ones were concerning the old fires spotted the day before. Then came data concerning a new fire. Even before the location had been given, Earl had its approximate location marked on the map. Earl missed the second new fire by about five miles, but it showed that the principle upon which he was working was correct.

“What do you say now?” asked Earl after the observer had stopped sending from the patrol plane.

“You hit the first one almost on the spot,” replied Bill. “The second one you missed a little, but not much. Let’s get going.”

“Wait until I send a message to the supervisor in the Mary’s Peak area,” said Earl.

“Is the plane all right?” asked Bill as he ran to get into the cockpit.

“First-class condition,” replied the mechanic.

“We will check in with the amateur station at Glenbrook on the way out. We can’t afford to waste any more time in getting to Elam,” called Earl as Bill motioned for the mechanics to remove the blocks from the wheels.

“O. K.,” replied Bill.

Bill did not try to gain any altitude for a while, as speed was essential to the success of their plan. His plan was to arrive over Glenbrook at about four thousand feet. He hoped that Earl would start sending to check the set long before they reached the place, and then the O. K. panel would probably be waiting for them when they flew over the station.

They were flying along at three thousand feet when they reached Ferguson. Then Bill felt Earl poking him in the back and, turning, saw that a note was being passed forward to him. Bill took the note and read it. “I can’t get any juice from the generators. Did you remove the safety wire from the generator propeller before you started?”

Bill shook his head, “No.” To land and take off the safety wire would consume a lot of valuable time. Something else must be done. It was necessary that the radio function. Otherwise, the plan could not succeed. Bill wrote a note and handed it to Earl: “Do your stuff as you have never done it before. Put that emergency stick into the socket in your cockpit. Follow the movements that I make as I pilot this plane. Learn what you can in the next few minutes, for I am going to climb out on the wing and kick the generator fan loose. You are going to pilot the plane while I do it. I don’t care if you never before have piloted a plane. That makes no difference. Get busy.”

Earl was perfectly willing to try and follow Bill’s instructions. At first he over-controlled just like any new student would. Then he seemed to be able to keep the plane on an even keel. Bill did not touch his stick for some time and the plane ran along perfectly all right. Bill then started to climb out onto the wing.

He had one leg outside of the fusilage and the plane started to veer to the right alarmingly. Earl was giving it too much right rudder. Bill motioned for the correction but had no success in making himself understood. He returned to his cockpit and put the plane on an even keel. Once more he was about to get both legs out of the cockpit, but this time the plane started to climb at such an angle that he knew it would stall. Bill was able to correct it by leaning in and pushing forward on the stick.

Bill learned by this time that Earl was so intent upon trying to fly the plane that he could not see any of the signals which Bill gave for correcting the position of the plane. It was up to him to get out on that wing, kick the fan loose and get back into his seat as soon as possible, and do it before the plane was entirely out of control.

Bill waited until the plane settled down into a level flight again and then started to climb out on the wing. He had both feet on the wing and was about to move forward to the leading edge when the nose of the plane again went up at decidedly too great an angle. Bill hesitated and tried to get Earl to push the stick forward. Earl would not even look at him. Earl had his eyes glued to the inside of the cockpit.

Bill decided that the same thing would happen every time that he left the cockpit. Accordingly it was just as safe to get the job done this time as it ever would be. Completely ignoring the dangerous angle at which the plane was climbing, he continued to work his way forward. By the time that he reached the leading edge of the wing, the plane had almost lost all flying speed. In a short time it would fall into a spin. He must get back to the cockpit as soon as he could. Otherwise the plane would certainly fall and be out of control during the fall.

Bill did not take much time to consider what was the proper thing to do. He was in a position now from which he could stoop down and give that fan a kick and break the safety wire. It was doubtful if he could ever get there again, judging from the erratic way in which the plan had traveled through the air during the past few moments.

The few seconds spent in kicking that fan loose might be the ones needed to save the plane from falling into a spin. On the other hand, it might fall into a spin before he could get back to the cockpit even though he did not try and release the fan. Apparently it made no difference.

Bill grabbed the front cross brace wires, stooped down and kicked the fan. He felt the safety wires break and knew that the fan was loose. The plane then went into an even steeper climb. Bill hoped that the old Liberty engine would keep on reliably pumping its four hundred horsepower into that propeller. He also hoped that the plane would maintain its present speed until he could get his hand on the stick again.

The plane was just staggering through the air. Any increase in the flying angle would surely send it into a spin. Bill started back toward the cockpit and in his hurry slipped on the smooth laminated wood which protected the wing surface. He caught himself in time to keep from slipping off, but lost several seconds. Once more he started moving back to the cockpit. If he could only make it before the spin started. A DH in a spin takes a considerable altitude to come out. Sometimes they do not come out regardless of the altitude at which they are flying. Bill had a scant two thousand feet when he started to climb out of the cockpit the first time. He had lost some altitude since that.

Could he get there in time to save the ship?