ians came trappers, hunters, prospectors,
and some of them set up the stones. It would be a valuable short cut
between the Park and the San Luis country, if it were safe. But it's
not. I'm told that many lives have been lost on it. I can't find
details except of one tragedy. Some ten years ago a party of English
people, guests at the ranch that Haig now owns, went on a pleasure
trip to Thunder Mountain. They meant to go only as far as timber line.
It's not difficult as far as the foot of the scarp that lifts to the
flat top you see yonder. It's done on horseback to that point--and
across too, if you care to try it. But on top--that's another matter.
It isn't the mountain itself that gets you. It's the storms. The
English party ventured on top, and three of them never came back. The
wind hurled them into a chasm, and their bodies were never recovered.
That's enough for me, thank you!"

"Has nobody in the Park ever been across?" Marion persisted.

"Old Parker--Jim Parker's father--crossed it once, many years ago. But
he came back another way, around by Tellurium. Young Parker has been
as far as the Devil's Chair. That's the top of the notch where the
wind sucks you into it--unless, by good chance, it blows you away from
it."

"And no one else?" Marion insisted, breathless.

"One other man has gone to the Twin Sisters. That's halfway over."

"Who was that?" she asked; as if she did not know.

"He balked at the women, you see."

Smythe chuckled.

"The Twin Sisters," Smythe went on, "are two huge gray rocks, I'm
told, vaguely resembling carved figures. The trail passes between
them. There's no other possible way, and when the wind is blowing it
shoots out between them like water from a fire-hose. Haig was caught
just there by a storm. He came back fighting mad, and swore he'd cross
Thunder Mountain yet, or die there. But that reminds me. I've got news
for you."

"News?" asked Marion, with a start.

Her first thought was of Sunnysides. Had Haig decided not to wait for
Farrish? But no! It would be something about yesterday's sensation.

"It keeps well, I see," she said lightly.

"I didn't want to excite you so soon after that long climb."

"Thank you! If you think I can't stand it you just keep it to
yourself--if you can!"

"But I came expressly to tell you."

"Then why don't you expressly tell me? Don't be exasperating, Mr.
Smythe!"

He grinned exultantly.

"Well," he said, "I've been eavesdropping."