tage and walked toward Jack. "Bravo!" he said, as she slid off
her mare, handing her reins to Mr. Drummond.

"I beg your pardon, sir," he continued stiffly--Mr. Drummond's citified
elegance had irritated him--"I couldn't help feeling some pride in Miss
Ralston's cool head. When it comes to a question of nerve, Jack, you
certainly have got the right stuff in you," he concluded. And Jack
blushed happily, because Jim's praises were rare, not caring half so
much that her new friend was even more impressed by her courage than her
old one.

CHAPTER XVII

THE LANGUAGE OF THE FLOWERS

All that was possible of geyserland was seen by the ranch girls and
their friends during the long day: geysers alive and dead, spouting and
silent, great and small, and all the magic, shining pools in the
neighborhood, until there seemed no words left for wonderment and no
strength for further admiration. The coaching party had brought with
them the clothes and supplies they would need for several days and
nights, as they meant to make the tour of the Park before returning to
their starting place, spending the nights in the various hotels along
their route.

Mr. Drummond had intended to return to the Lake the same evening, but
this was before he spent a picnic day with the ranch girls. After a
hurried consultation with Jim he decided to go on with the travelers.

It was late in the afternoon of the first day, when Mrs. Harmon and Ruth
found a bit of wild woodland and declared they must rest and not see
another sight. They were in walking distance of the hotel where they
were to spend the night, and Jim and Mr. Drummond went ahead with the
horses and coach to see what arrangements had been made for their
comfort.

The two older women were getting out the tea basket and lighting their
alcohol lamp, when Jean and Donald insisted on trying to boil the water
at one of the hot springs in the neighborhood. Olive, Frieda and Carlos
followed them, Frieda anxious to avert a tragedy. Having read in her
guidebook that a small dog, leaping into the pool for a stick, had been
boiled and sizzled to death, she was determined that no one of them
should meet the same fate.

As Elizabeth was tired, Jack stayed behind with her, letting the sick
girl rest her head in her lap while they talked of the day's
experiences.

Suddenly Elizabeth sat up. "Let me do your hair for you, Jack," she
begged. "I want to see it over your shoulders. I know it is pre