me? It can't be the same
ones," I urged. But through the glasses we could identify our pretty
tree-climbers quite plainly, at least by costume.

Terry watched them, we all did for that matter, till they disappeared
among the houses. Then he put down his glass and turned to us, drawing
a long breath. "Mother of Mike, boys--what Gorgeous Girls! To climb like
that! to run like that! and afraid of nothing. This country suits me all
right. Let's get ahead."

"Nothing venture, nothing have," I suggested, but Terry preferred "Faint
heart ne'er won fair lady."

We set forth in the open, walking briskly. "If there are any men, we'd
better keep an eye out," I suggested, but Jeff seemed lost in heavenly
dreams, and Terry in highly practical plans.

"What a perfect road! What a heavenly country! See the flowers, will
you?"

This was Jeff, always an enthusiast; but we could agree with him fully.

The road was some sort of hard manufactured stuff, sloped slightly to
shed rain, with every curve and grade and gutter as perfect as if it
were Europe's best. "No men, eh?" sneered Terry. On either side a double
row of trees shaded the footpaths; between the trees bushes or vines,
all fruit-bearing, now and then seats and little wayside fountains;
everywhere flowers.

"We'd better import some of these ladies and set 'em to parking the
United States," I suggested. "Mighty nice place they've got here." We
rested a few moments by one of the fountains, tested the fruit that
looked ripe, and went on, impressed, for all our gay bravado by the
sense of quiet potency which lay about us.

Here was evidently a people highly skilled, efficient, caring for their
country as a florist cares for his costliest orchids. Under the soft
brilliant blue of that clear sky, in the pleasant shade of those endless
rows of trees, we walked unharmed, the placid silence broken only by the
birds.

Presently there lay before us at the foot of a long hill the town or
village we were aiming for. We stopped and studied it.

Jeff drew a long breath. "I wouldn't have believed a collection of
houses could look so lovely," he said.

"They've got architects and landscape gardeners in plenty, that's sure,"
agreed Terry.

I was astonished myself. You see, I come from California, and there's no
country lovelier, but when it comes to towns--! I have often groaned
at home to see the offensive mess man made in the face of nature, even
though I'm no art sharp, like Jef