Mostly, just seeing hay was enough to get the animals to push their way to it. But there was one place where a dozen or so cows didn’t have enough oomph left to get on their feet and walk even the twenty yards that would save their lives.

“We could cut the fence and dig a path to them,” I suggested.

But the man whose place it was didn’t wait for that. With snowshoes on his feet, he stepped over the fence, hurried to the closest cow, and grabbed onto her head. And he pulled and yelled and pulled and patted her behind her ears. It was the dangest thing. Sad like.

Right till suddenly the cow got to its knees and then heaved itself upright. It staggered to a mound of hay, ate some, and then mooed loudly. And then the rest of those animals started struggling to stand.

Swen had idled back the dozer motor by then, and the rest of us leaned on our shovel handles till we saw the last of the cows reach the food.

The man in the field moved from one to another, talking to them and patting each like it was a saved child. Then he came back to us. “Thanks,” he said. “You boys saved their lives. I’ll remember.”

Chapter 25

Captain Hakes and his staff rolled in the next day, and almost at once Compton and I got word he wanted us in his office.

Compton strode beside me, tight-lipped and angry. “I’m not letting myself get dragged down by this, Trawnley,” he said. “I don’t care how you explain the gallons of fuel you good as gave away, or that truck with the smashed fender. Just make it clear I had nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I will.”

Sergeant Ruffino waved us into the CO’s office, where Captain Hakes finished reading something at his desk. Then he said, “I understand the road plowing required eighty gallons of gasoline, and one of the stake trucks will need some repairs. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “The—”

The captain didn’t let me finish. “The expenditures and the need for repairs are unfortunate.”

Compton broke in. “Sir,” he said, “Leader Trawnley clearly understood—”

Hakes frowned at the interruption, but Compton went on, “I just want you to know, sir, that I didn’t—”

“However,” the captain continued, “the CCC is charged with helping meet emergencies when it can, and with doing what’s reasonable to earn goodwill in the communities where we put our camps. That was, in fact, the subject of the meeting that my staff and I just attended. And, fortunately, word of your activities here reached us while we were still in discussion.”

Compton threw me a swift glance. His thoughts must have been bouncing around fast as a pinball snapped too hard.