One night, returning from a hard day, on which he had not only ridden his fire patrol, but had also spent a couple of hours rolling big rocks into a creek to keep it from washing out a trail should a freshet come, he found a large party of people at his camp. There was an ex-professor of social science of the old régime, his wife and little daughter, a guide, and a lavish outfit. Although the gate of Wilbur's corral was padlocked and had "Property of the U. S. Forest Service" painted on it, the professor had ordered the guide to smash the gate and let the animals in.
Wilbur was angry, and took no pains to conceal it.
"Who turned those horses into my corral?" he demanded.
The professor, who wore gold-rimmed eyeglasses above a very dirty and tired face, replied:
"I am in charge of this party, and it was done at my orders."

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MPAA: PG
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