Francis Rolt-wheeler

The Boy with the U. S. Foresters Francis Rolt-wheeler

Publisher Marketing: Hey, Wilbur, where are you headed for? The boy addressed, who had just come through the swing-doors of an office building in Washington, did not slacken his pace on hearing the question, but called back over his shoulder: To the forest, of course. Come along, Fred. But- The second speaker stopped short, and, breaking into a run, caught up with his friend in a few steps. You certainly seem to be in a mighty big hurry to get there, he said. We don't loaf on our service, answered the boy with an air of pride. His friend broke into a broad grin. He had known Wilbur Loyle for some time, and was well aware of his enthusiastic nature. How long has it been 'our' service? he queried, emphasizing the pronoun. Ever since I was appointed, rejoined Wilbur exultantly. I'm glad the appointment has had time to soak in; it didn't take long, did it? Wilbur flushed a little, and his chum, seeing this, went on laughingly: Don't mind my roasting, old man, only you were 'way up in the clouds.