even his habitually veiled eyes could not miss the
look of consternation on Marion's face.

"Why--I thought--" he began uncertainly. "Of course, if you don't want
to go--"

The oiled rag dropped from his hand. His descent from elation (he had
planned a little surprise) to dejection and chagrin was a tumble that
touched Marion's commiseration and disarmed her. She did not want to
go camping; she did not want to leave the Park for even a day, an
hour; she did not want to miss any opportunity to see Haig. More than
ever now was she determined to solve his mystery. So Huntingdon's
"surprise" was a greater shock to her than he, simple man, could
possibly have foreseen or perceived. But even if she had not been
moved by his rather ludicrous disappointment she would not have dared
to refuse acquiescence in his programme. She had indeed expressed an
ardent--oh, too ardent!--desire to go camping, and any explanation she
could think of on the instant would have led her into regions where
she could not trust herself.

"Indeed, I want to go!" she cried quickly, though there was a big lump
in her throat. "You took me by surprise, that's all."

"I should say so!" said Claire. "Think you're smart, don't you? We
might have been all dressed for it if you'd only told us. When do we
start, Big Boss?"

Huntington recovered his good spirits quickly, assured that he had
succeeded after all.

"I thought we'd ride to Ely's to-day, sleep there to-night, and make
Mount Avalanche to-morrow evening."

"Then we must hurry," said Claire. "Come, Marion."

"How long--shall we be gone?" asked Marion, struggling to appear
enthusiastic.

"Four or five days, I suppose."

Her heart sank. She could have cried with vexation. But she managed to
conceal her real feelings in the bustle of preparation. There were
provisions to be packed: cans and jars and bottles; bacon and ham and
flour against the possible event of bad luck with the guns and rods;
warm clothes and bedding; medicines and bandages. So fully occupied
were her hands and brain with these details, and later with her first
real experience with the mountain trails, that her heart must perforce
keep its peace until some hour of solitude.

Toward five o'clock of the second day they reached their destination,--a
grassy shelf a little below timber line on Mount Avalanche. There, in
some past age, an avalanche of titanic proportions had carried away
part of the mountain itself; and they cam