were opened. The little old lady
cried as if her heart would break, while the jays gossiped and chattered
at the unusual uproar.

Suddenly she turned and went into the house, and the boys, without a
word, quietly passed up the trail and into the flat, green meadow ahead.
Ham whistled softly to himself as he strode along.

"Beats the Dutch," he said to Mr. Allen, as the two dropped back
together, "how a fellow will forget himself now and then. I'd have done
just what she did, only I would have gotten mad instead of just feeling
bad. I'm mighty thankful I didn't kill that bird."

"What a great joy these simple out-of-doors people get out of nature,"
replied Mr. Allen. "I'd give half my college education to be able to
see and hear and understand the things that little old lady does in these
old hills. Every time a bird chirps or a squirrel barks she knows what
it says. I think the Master must have been thinking of some such a
pure-hearted body as she when He told the people that the poor in spirit
would inherit the earth. She doesn't go out in society much, nor she
hasn't any party dresses, nor probably never saw a grand opera in her
life; but see what she has that most people never get."

In a few moments more they had crossed the little meadow, climbed up
through a zigzag trail through the trees, and came out onto the railroad
track, just where it crossed the stage road. Directly in front of them
rose the crag-tipped cap of St. Peter's Dome. On one hand was the old
wagon road, that first pathway of mountain civilization, winding down the
canyon in long, graceful curves until it was lost in the distant haze,
while on the other hand ran the steel rails of more modern civilization.

As they stood resting for a few moments they heard the rumble of heavy
wheels, a wheezing and puffing, a shrill whistle, a cloud of black smoke,
a shower of cinders, and the evening express passed upward into the cool,
dark shadows, carrying its load of human necessities into the heart of
the Rockies.

It was six o'clock when the last one in the party reached the rickety
wooden stairs that made the last ascent of a hundred feet to the Dome
possible. Ham and Willis had been on top for some minutes, and were
sitting on a huge boulder just at the foot of a lodge-pole that had been
erected on the very summit for a flagstaff. Certainly it was a sight to
be remembered for many a day--a marvelous wonderland, stretching out in
every direction. Th