He leaped to the
ground with surprising agility and set himself about arranging the
interior of the coach for the accommodation of his passengers. He was
chewing on something which might have been bear-meat or buckskin, from
its apparent tenacious and unyielding nature.

Agnes Horton was to ride on the box with Smith, for she had a camera and
wanted to catch some views. Smith grew so red over handing her up that
Dr. Slavens began to fear lest he might take fire from internal heat and
leave them with only the ashes of a driver on their hands. But they all
got placed without any such melancholy tragedy, with a great many cries
of "Oh, Mr. Smith!" here, and "Oh, Mr. Smith!" there, and many
head-puttings-out on the part of the ladies inside, and gallantries from
Mr. Walker and Mr. Horace Bentley, the lawyer.

William Bentley, the toolmaker, with the basket of lunch upon his knees,
showered the blessing of his kindly smile upon them all, as if he held
them to be only children. Mrs. Mann, her black bag on her arm, squeaked
a little when the coach lurched on the start, knocking her head and
throwing her hat awry.

Smith, proud of his load, and perhaps a little vain on account of so
much unusual loveliness at his side, swung down the main street with its
early morning crowds. People waved at them the friendly signals of the
highroad of adventure, and June, in defiance of terrible eyebrows and
admonishing pokes, waved back at them, her wild hair running over her
cheeks. So they set out in the bright morning to view the promised
land.

They struck off down the Meander stage-road, which ran for the greater
part of its way through the lands awaiting the disposition of chance.
Mainly it followed the survey of the railroad, which was to be extended
to Meander, and along which men and teams were busy even then, throwing
up the roadbed.

To the north there was a rise of land, running up in benched gradations
to white and barren distant heights; behind them were brown hills. Far
away in the blue southwest--Smith said it was more than eighty
miles--there stood the mountains with their clean robes of snow, while
scattered here and there about the vast plain through which they drove,
were buttes of blue shale and red ledges, as symmetrical of side and
smooth of top as if they had been raised by the architects of
Tenochtitlan for sacrifice to their ugly gods.

"Old as Adam," said Smith, pointing to one gray monument whose summit
had