the canyon
after the ambulance.

Once more Katy sank to the ground. Linda looked at her as she buried her
face and began to wail.

"Peter," she said quietly, "hunt our belongings and pack them in the
Bear Cat the best you can. Excuse us for a few minutes. We must act this
out of our systems."

Gravely she sat down beside Katy, laid her head on her shoulder, and
began to cry very nearly as energetically as Katy herself. And that was
the one thing which was most effective in restoring Katy's nerves. Tears
were such an unaccustomed thing with Linda that Katy controlled herself
speedily so that she might be better able to serve the girl. In a few
minutes Katy had reduced her emotions to a dry sniffle. She lifted her
head, groped for her pocket, and being unable to find it for the very
good reason that she was sitting upon it, she used her gingham hem as
a handkerchief. Once she had risen to the physical effort of wiping her
eyes, she regained calmness rapidly. The last time she applied the
hem she looked at Peter, but addressed the Almighty in resigned tones:
"There, Lord, I guess that will do."

In a few minutes she was searching the kitchen, making sure that no
knives, spoons, or cooking utensils were lost. Missing her support,
Linda sat erect and endeavored to follow Katy's example. Her eyes
met Peter's and when she saw that his shoulders were shaking, a dry,
hysterical laugh possessed her.

"Yes, Katy," she panted, "that WILL do, and remember the tears we are
shedding are over Donald's broken foot, and because this may interfere
with his work, though I don't think it will for long."

"When I cry," said Katy tersely, "I cry because I feel like it. I wasn't
wapin' over the snake that'd plan a death like that for anyone"--Katy
waved toward the boulder--"and nayther was I wastin' me tears over the
fut of a kid bein' jommed up a trifle."

"Well, then, Katy," asked Linda tremulously, "why were you crying?"

"Well, there's times," said Katy judicially, "when me spirits tell me I
would be the better for lettin' off a wee bit of stame, and one of them
times havin' arrived, I jist bowed me head to it, as is in accordance
with the makings of me. Far be it from me to be flyin' in the face of
Providence and sayin' I won't, when all me interior disposhion says to
me: 'Ye will!'"

"And now, Linda," said Peter, "can you tell us why you were crying?"

"Why, I think," said Linda, "that Katy has explained sufficiently for
bot