He climbed cat-like to the crest again, slid through the brush, dashed across bare spots, jumped from rocks that jutted in his way, struck stones but righted himself before falling, truly “hit only the high places,” as he breathlessly told the girls waiting for him at Ellen’s Isle.,
“But if your steamer works you don’t want its secrets peddled round; and girls always blab.”,
Jean hid a queer little smile that she could not repress..
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