.B." and "M.A." Nearest
relative: "None." In case of injury or death notify--"_Nobody._" That
was all. Somewhere he had a family that stood for something in the
world, but where? He was a striking person, with his snow-white hair,
bright blue eyes, and erect, soldier-like bearing. White Mountain and
Ranger Winess had known him in Yellowstone; Ranger Fisk had seen him in
Rainier; Ranger West had met him at Glacier. He taught me the game of
cribbage, and the old game of gold-rush days--solo.

One morning Pat came to my cabin and handed me a book. Without speaking
he turned and walked away. Inside the volume I found a note: "I am
going away. This is my favorite book. I want you to have it and keep
it." The title of the book was _Story of an African Farm_. None of us
ever saw Pat again.

The yearly rains began to come daily, each with more force and water
than the preceding one. Lightning flashed like bombs exploding, and
thunder roared and reverberated back and forth from Rim to Rim of the
Canyon. We sank above our shoes in mud every time we left the cabin. The
days were disagreeable, but the evenings were spent in the cabin, Ranger
Winess with his guitar and the other boys singing while we girls made
fudge or sea-foam. Such quantities of candy as that bunch could consume!
The sugar was paid for from the proceeds of a Put-and-Take game that
kept us entertained.

We had a girl friend, Virginia, from Washington as a guest, and she fell
in love with Arizona. Also with Ranger Winess. It was about arranged
that she would remain permanently, but one unlucky day he took her down
Bright Angel Trail. He provided her with a tall lank mule, "By Gosh," to
ride, and she had never been aboard an animal before. Every time By Gosh
flopped an ear she thought he was trying to slap her in the face. On a
steep part of the trail a hornet stung the mule, and he began to buck
and kick.

I asked Virginia what she did then.

"I didn't do anything. By Gosh was doing enough for both of us," she
said. Ranger Winess said, however, that she turned her mule's head in
toward the bank and whacked him with the stick she carried. Which was
the logical thing to do. Unfortunately Ranger Winess teased her a
little about the incident, and a slight coolness arose. Just to show how
little she cared for his company, Virginia left our party and strolled
up to the Rim to observe the effect of moonlight on the mist that filled
it.

Our game of Put-and-Take wa