As a matter-of-fact, it was late in the afternoon when he finally returned and sank down alongside the creek bank after his last patrol along the fire line. How long he had been sitting there he did not know, but it was beginning to get dark when he heard voices. The fire was gradually burning itself out. The sharp, ear-splitting crackling of the flames was much less audible. The smoke was just as thick as ever, but the terrifying aspect of the fire was gone. Simmons had done his job well. The fire had been conquered.