disagreeable," warned Tom, delighted by the prospect of
a tramp with her. "It is bound to be wet under foot and the wind will be
cold and penetrating; but if you don't mind it, I'm sure _I_ don't." He
finished his coffee and smiled. "It will be a great relief to get off
this boat."

"Come on, then; I'll meet you at the landing stage in ten minutes," she
exclaimed. "This will be a good opportunity to get accustomed to the
heavy boots Uncle Joe had made for me. They smell like tallow candles
with leather wicks, if you can imagine the combination."

He saw her enter her stateroom and then went to his own, got his rifle
and stood at the gangplank like a sentry. In less than the allotted time
she joined him, waved gaily at her uncle and the captain, who were
talking together near the pilot house, and went down the sloping plank,
eager to explore the river bank. As they reached the top of the
terrace-like bank and turned to wave again, the sun broke through the
clouds and turned the moisture-laden trees and brush into a jeweled
fairyland. They did not go far south since they were restricted to the
more open spaces where they could walk without rubbing against wet
foliage, but they found comparatively open lanes along the top of the
bank, from where they could keep watch over the packet and get back
without undue haste at the sound of her warning whistle.

They crossed the trails of several animals and she listened with
interest to her companion's description of their makers, wondering at
his intimate knowledge of animal habits. Finally, coming to a great
cottonwood log, stripped of its bark and shining in the sunlight, he
helped her upon it and sat down by her side.

"You surprised me, Miss Cooper, when you mentioned you were going to
Santa Fe," he said, turning to one of the subjects uppermost in his
mind. "It is a long, tedious, trying journey to men, and it might prove
infinitely more so to a woman."

"I suppose so," she replied reflectively. "But you know, Mr. Boyd, I
haven't seen my father in five years, and his letter, sent back by the
eastbound caravan from Santa Fe last year, told us how he missed me and
how dissatisfied he was with his housekeeping arrangements and how he
dreaded to spend another winter away from us. It was too late then, of
course, to make the trip, but I determined to go to him with the first
caravan leaving Independence this spring. Uncle Joe fumed and fussed
about it and collected all the st