the book, because he does not wish the locale to be too
definite.]

Ruth Devlin, her young sister, and her aunt Mrs. Revel, with Galt Roscoe
and myself, constituted the party. The first part of the excursion
had many delights. The morning was fresh and sweet, and we were all in
excellent spirits. Roscoe's depression had vanished; but there was an
amiable seriousness in his manner which, to me, portended that the faint
roses in Ruth Devlin's cheeks would deepen before the day was done,
unless something inopportune happened.

As we trudged gaily up the canon to the spot where we were to take a big
skiff, and cross the Whi-Whi to our camping-ground, Ruth Devlin, who
was walking with me, said: "A large party of tourists arrived at Viking
yesterday, and have gone to the summer hotel; so I expect you will be
gay up here for some time to come. Prepare, then, to rejoice."

"Don't you think it is gay enough as it is?" I answered. "Behold this
festive throng."

"Oh, it is nothing to what there might be. This could never make Viking
and 'surrounding country' notorious as a pleasure resort. To
attract tourists you must have enough people to make romances and
tragedies,--without loss of life, of course,--merely catastrophes
of broken hearts, and hair-breadth escapes, and mammoth fishing
and shooting achievements, such as men know how to invent,"--it was
delightful to hear her voice soften to an amusing suggestiveness, "and
broken bridges and land-slides, with many other things which you can
supply, Dr. Marmion. No, I am afraid that Viking is too humdrum to be
notable."

She laughed then very lightly and quaintly. She had a sense of humour.

"Well, but, Miss Devlin," said I, "you cannot have all things at once.
Climaxes like these take time. We have a few joyful things. We have
splendid fishing achievements,--please do not forget that basket
of trout I sent you the other morning,--and broken hearts and such
tragedies are not impossible; as, for instance, if I do not send you as
good a basket of trout to-morrow evening; or if you should remark that
there was nothing in a basket of trout to--"

"Now," she said, "you are becoming involved and--inconsiderate.
Remember, I am only a mountain girl."

"Then let us only talk of the other tragedies. But are you not a
little callous to speak of such things as if you thirsted for their
occurrence?"

"I am afraid you are rather silly," she replied. "You see, some of the
land up he