Stella went back to her paper. She hadn't noticed any particular stress
laid on forest fires in the Seattle dailies, but she could not say that
of this Vancouver sheet. The front page reeked of smoke and fire. She
glanced through the various items for news of Roaring Lake, but found
only a brief mention. It was "reported" and "asserted" and "rumored"
that fire was raging at one or two points there, statements that were
overshadowed by positive knowledge of greater areas nearer at hand
burning with a fierceness that could be seen and smelled. The local
papers had enough feature stuff in fires that threatened the very
suburbs of Vancouver without going so far afield as Roaring Lake.
Linda's entrance put a stop to her reading, without, however, changing
the direction of her thought. For after an exchange of greetings, Linda
divulged the source of her worried expression, which Stella had
immediately remarked.
"Who wouldn't be worried," Linda said, "with the whole country on fire,
and no telling when it may break out in some unexpected place and wipe
one out of house and home."
"Is it so bad as that at the lake?" Stella asked uneasily. "There's not
much in the paper. I was looking."
"It's so bad," Linda returned, with a touch of bitterness, "that I've
been driven to the Springs for safety; that every able-bodied man on the
lake who can be spared is fighting fire. There has been one man killed,
and there's half a dozen loggers in the hospital, suffering from burns
and other hurts.
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