tion. He climbed hurriedly down off the rock, got
his own looking glass and climbed back again. He turned the glass so
that the sun shown on it aslant and threw a glare toward her. Then he
lifted the telescope quickly to see if she noticed the sparkle. After
a moment he decided that she had seen it but did not quite know what
had caused it. At any rate, she was still looking that way, which was
something.

Like the boy he was, he lay down on his stomach, balanced the
telescope across a splintered notch in the rock so that he could
steady it with one hand, and with the other he tilted the mirror;
inadvertently tilted the telescope also, and came near smashing the
mirror before he got the two balanced again. Well, she was still
looking, at any rate. And now she was frowning a little, as though
she was puzzled.

He signalled again, and this time he managed to keep her in the field
of the telescope. He saw her smile suddenly and glance down at her
vanity mirror. Still smiling, she lifted it and turned it to the sun,
looking from it to the peak.

"She's on! I'll be John Browned if she ain't on to it already!" Jack
chortled to the birds, and sent her a signal. She answered that with a
flash. He managed two flashes without losing her in the telescope, and
she immediately sent two flashes in reply. Three he gave, and she
answered with three. He could see her laughing like a child with a new
game. He could see the impish light in her eyes when she glanced up,
like a woman engrossed in her favorite pastime of be-deviling some
man. He laughed back at her, as though she was as near to him as she
looked to be. He quite forgot that she was not, and spoke to her
aloud.

"Some little heliographing--what? Come on up, and we'll make up a
code, so we can talk! Aw, come on--it ain't so far! Husky girl like
you can climb it in no time at all. Aw, come on!"

A couple of tourists, panting up to the peak with unsightly amber
goggles and a kodak and a dog, found him addressing empty air and
looked at him queerly. Jack could have murdered them both when he
turned his head and saw them gaping open-mouthed at his performance.
But he did not. He climbed shame-facedly down and answered the usual
questions with his usual patient courtesy, and hoped fervently that
they would either die at once of heart failure or go back to the lake
and leave him alone. Instead, they took pictures of the station and
the rocks and of him--though Jack was keen-wi