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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. Oh, dear! How embarrassing it was—perfectly horrid! And how they roared again as he came on to the wharf! “I see,” said Bob. “Then he’s got a real reason for not liking the irrigating scheme. But you don’t seem to think the way he does about it.”.

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“Gee, this is bully,” commented Bob, as he lay stretched out on the porch of the general store, out of the glare of the sun. “I never thought just resting could be such fun!” A few days later a detachment of infantry arrived to relieve Captain Wendell and his men. The new troop was to stay permanently, as the troubles at the border were continuing and Mr. Whitney had found it impracticable to get laborers of any other nationality than Mexicans. And better worth the youthful maid's desiring. Having determined which way to pursue, he pushed his horse into a gallop, and entered the forest as the last rays of the sun trembled on the mountains. The thick foliage of the trees threw a gloom around, which was every moment deepened by the shades of evening. The path was uninterrupted, and the count continued to follow it till all distinction was confounded in the veil of night. Total darkness now made it impossible for him to pursue his way. He dismounted, and fastening his horse to a tree, climbed among the branches, purposing to remain there till morning..