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The man hesitated a moment before going on with the conversation. When he spoke it was seemingly from a new angle.,Johnny Blossom thought that the room had become stiller than ever. A strange, wonderful feeling swept over him. There was something serious, something that he alone was to be responsible for, something expected of him that no one, no other person, could help him with.,The talk went on mostly about the Canyon. Bob noticed, however, that Jerry King took very little part in the conversation. He didn’t seem exactly unwilling to talk, but his remarks were few and far between. And when they came they were short and matter of fact. Mr. Whitney appeared not to notice this much. It was rather as if he was used to Jerry’s manner. But Bob, however, felt that he was going to have a hard job in thawing out this chap who was to be his companion through the summer. He wanted to make friends but Jerry seemed to repulse every advance he made.,One hot noontide he and Eric lay on the wharf in the baking sunshine. It was not Pilot Taraldsen’s wharf near the house, but the old wharf beyond the woods.,At last the start was made and after a walk of about a quarter of a mile along the rim the party came to the head of the Bright Angel Trail which led to the bottom. At first the going was fairly easy, but soon the trail grew steeper and steeper and Bob was amazed to see the calm way in which the little donkeys kept their footing, particularly when they were carrying large and heavy human beings. Owing to the immense zigzags that the trail had to take in order to provide a safe path, a lot of ground had to be covered. Therefore it was not until almost noon that the party reached the first plateau. This “plateau” is in reality far from flat. It is merely a slight leveling out of the general declivity about two-thirds of the way down.,Bob mingled with the crowd and finally drifted into the moving picture show. His mind was busy with his problem and he did not pay as much attention as usual to the scenes that were flashed before him on the screen. He became aware, however, even in the dim light, that directly in front of him sat an Indian, seemingly alone. A little to the left were a crowd of Mexicans, who, from their boisterous behavior, seemed to have been able to smuggle some whiskey into the camp, which, of course, was absolutely forbidden on a Government job.,“What is it called?”,The proprietor of the store, who was also their host, directed them to a man he thought might have one. The latter, a rancher in a small way, was rather dubious as to the boat’s being in a condition to navigate. “It’s down by the river,” he said. “Been down there pretty nigh a year, too, ef somebody hain’t swiped it. Take ye down to look at it in the mornin’. Ef you’re aimin’ to commit suicide tryin’ to get through the Labyrinth, it ought to be jest the thing for you. ’Twas built by a party what aimed to try the stunt but got cold feet before they tackled it. They give it to me, so ef you’re willin’ to pay about ten dollars, you’re welcome to it.”,The whole garden with its crooked old trees and newly planted young ones was overflowing with fruit: big and little pears, red apples, yellow apples, and oh! any quantity of plums—yellow plums bursting with ripeness, great juicy blue plums, and those sweet ones of a reddish purple color. Hurrah!,“Go and wash up and come down quickly,” urged Bob’s new boss. “It’s almost sunset, and I don’t want you to miss it! I’ll wait for you here on the porch.”,A nail was driven in the wall near the one that held the big silver watch, and the Christmas present was hung on it at once in plain sight.,“It was really shameful of those great big boys,” said Mother..