me
down! I could never have a moment's peace under it."

It fascinated her. There were inaccessible ledges that haunted her with
their remote fastnesses. How wonderful would it be to get there, rest
there, if that were possible! But only eagles could reach them. There
were places, then, that the desecrating hands of man could not touch.
The dark caves were mystically potent in their vacant staring out at
the world beneath them. The crumbling crags, the toppling ledges, the
leaning rocks all threatened to come thundering down at the breath of
wind. How deep and soft the red color in contrast with the green! How
splendid the sheer bold uplift of gigantic steps! Carley found herself
marveling at the forces that had so rudely, violently, and grandly left
this monument to nature.

"Well, old Fifth Avenue gadder!" called a gay voice. "If the back wall
of my yard so halts you--what will you ever do when you see the Painted
Desert, or climb Sunset Peak, or look down into the Grand Canyon?"

"Oh, Glenn, where are you?" cried Carley, gazing everywhere near at
hand. But he was farther away. The clearness of his voice had deceived
her. Presently she espied him a little distance away, across a creek she
had not before noticed.

"Come on," he called. "I want to see you cross the stepping stones."

Carley ran ahead, down a little slope of clean red rock, to the shore of
the green water. It was clear, swift, deep in some places and shallow in
others, with white wreathes or ripples around the rocks evidently placed
there as a means to cross. Carley drew back aghast.

"Glenn, I could never make it," she called.

"Come on, my Alpine climber," he taunted. "Will you let Arizona daunt
you?"

"Do you want me to fall in and catch cold?" she cried, desperately.

"Carley, big women might even cross the bad places of modern life on
stepping stones of their dead selves!" he went on, with something of
mockery. "Surely a few physical steps are not beyond you."

"Say, are you mangling Tennyson or just kidding me?" she demanded
slangily.

"My love, Flo could cross here with her eyes shut."

That thrust spurred Carley to action. His words were jest, yet they held
a hint of earnest. With her heart at her throat Carley stepped on the
first rock, and, poising, she calculated on a running leap from stone to
stone. Once launched, she felt she was falling downhill. She swayed, she
splashed, she slipped; and clearing the longest leap from the l