many trips around here, and we'll need a guide.
Could you go with us?" Paul asked.

"Yep."

"All right, we want you," said Bob.

"All ye got to do is to holler. When ye cal'clatin' to start?"

"To-morrow. Let's go for two days up that biggest one," said Bob.

"Cripes! She ain't goin' to lose no time. It'll hustle me some to git
the camp outfit and the grub ready fer to-morrow."

"All right, Bill, hustle!" smiled the lady.

"Better be ready to start 'bout five o'clock. We can git breakfast up
the mounting."

Trent questioned her silently and she nodded. Supper at the ranch house
was poor, and on the way back to their cabin Bob announced that
hereafter she and Bill Hawkins would serve meals from the kitchenette on
the cabin porch.

They sat for a while on the tiny veranda, watching the dark shut down
and lock in the valley. Then a new moon slid over a mountain peak into
view, big yellow stars, close overhead, burst through the sky.

"My! what stars! They are like yellow coryopsis flowers leaning out of
the sky garden!" exclaimed Bob.

"Shall I pick you a few to wear in your hair?"

"'Twould be a pity to have them fade."

"Then I'll get you the moon."

"It's no good unless you get it for yourself, Governor."

They talked casually and comfortably for half an hour, and then Bob
announced that she was going to bed, so that she might get strength to
face a five o'clock rising. They groped about for the candles, and by
the dim light of one Paul lighted her to the bare bedchamber.

"We'd better pack our knapsacks to-night. I'll get out the steamer rugs,
too. I know you'll need one on that bunk of yours. Go see what is on
it."

He reported a cotton blanket and a comfortable made of pig iron. In due
course of time they got things organized, and lights were out in the
cabin at nine o'clock.

Trent woke to a sound of laughter--peal after peal on the morning air.
He sat up, listened, looked at his watch, sprang up and dressed. He went
out around the cabin to the spot from which the laughter came,
punctuated by a strange and unidentified noise. A slight boy in khaki
breeches, shirt, and boots, with a wide-brimmed hat pulled down on his
head, was conversing with a small gray burro, who lifted his long neck
and emitted unearthly sounds, at which the boy laughed.

"If that pet belongs to you, young man, you might lead him off my
premises."

"He's singing a hymn to the rising sun," said Bob, turning to him.

"M