Chapter XIV

In The Mountains

In the gray of the early morning, hours before the dwellers on Fairlands
Heights thought of leaving their beds, Aaron King and Conrad Lagrange made
ready for their going.

The burro, Croesus--so named by the novelist because, as the famous writer
explained, "that ancient multi-millionaire, you know, really was an
ass"--was to be entrusted with all the available worldly possessions of
the little party. An arrangement--the more experienced man carefully
pointed out--that, considering the chief characteristics of Croesus, was
quite in accord with the customs of modern pilgrimages. Conrad Lagrange,
himself, skillfully fixed the pack in place--adjusting the saddle with
careful hand; accurately dividing the weight, with the blankets on top,
and, over all, the canvas tarpaulin folded the proper size and neatly
tucked in around the ends; and finally securing the whole with the, to the
uninitiated, intricate and complicated diamond hitch. The order of their
march, also, would place Croesus first; which position--the novelist,
again, gravely explained, as he drew the cinches tight--is held by all who
value good form, to be the donkey's proper place in the procession. As he
watched his friend, the artist felt that, indeed, he was about to go far
from the ways of life that he had always known.

When all was ready, the two men--dressed in flannels, corduroys, and
high-laced, mountain boots--called good-by to Yee Kee, respectfully
invited Croesus to proceed, and set out--with Czar, the fourth member of
the party, flying here and there in such a whirlwind of good spirits that
not a shred of his usual dignity was left. The sun was still below the
mountain's crest, though the higher points were gilded with its light,
when they turned their backs upon the city made by men, and set their
faces toward the hills that bore in every ridge and peak and cliff and
crag and canyon the signature of God.

As Conrad Lagrange said--they might have hired a wagon, or even an
automobile, to take them and their goods to some mountain ranch where they
would have had no trouble in securing a burro for their wanderings A team
would have made the trip by noon. A machine would have set them down in
Clear Creek Canyon before the sun could climb high enough to look over the
canyon walls. "But that"--explained the novelist, as they trudged
leisurely along between rows of palms that bordered the orange groves on
eithe