him, carefully examining the canyon walls, and
then at the level, odorous floor where one could not step without
crushing tiny flowers of white, cerise, blue, and yellow. Big ferns grew
along the walls, here and there "Our Lord's Candles" lifted high torches
not yet lighted, the ambitious mountain stream skipped and circled and
fell over its rocky bed, while many canyon wrens were singing.

"Do you think," she said, "that anyone driving along here at an ordinary
rate of speed would see that car?"

"No," said Donald, getting her idea, "I don't believe they would."

"All right, then," said Linda. "Toe up even and I'll race YoU to the
third curve where you see the big white sycamore."

Donald had a fleeting impression of a flash of khaki, a gleam of red,
and a wave of black as they started. He ran with all the speed he had
ever attained at a track meet. He ran with all his might. He ran until
his sides strained and his breath came short; but the creature beside
him was not running; she was flying; and long before they neared the
sycamore he knew he was beaten, so he laughingly cried to her to stop
it. Linda turned to him panting and laughing.

"I make that dash every time I come to the canyon, to keep my muscle
up, but this is the first time I have had anyone to race with in a long
time."

Then together they slowly walked down the smooth black floor between
the canyon walls. As they crossed a small bridge Linda leaned over and
looked down.

"Anyone at your house care about 'nose twister'?" she asked lightly.

"Why, isn't that watercress?" asked Donald.

"Sure it is," said Linda. "Anyone at your house like it?"

"Every one of us," answered Donald. "We're all batty about cress
salad--and, say, that reminds me of something! If you know so much
about this canyon and everything in it, is there any place in it where
a fellow could find a plant, a kind of salad lettuce, that the Indians
used to use?"

"Might be," said Linda carelessly. "For why?"

"Haven't you heard of the big sensation that is being made in feminine
circles by the new department in Everybody's Home?" inquired Donald.
"Mother and Mary Louise were discussing it the other day at lunch, and
they said that some of the recipes for dishes to be made from stuff the
Indians used sounded delicious. One reminded them of cress, and when we
saw the cress I wondered if I could get them some of the other."

"Might," said Linda drily, "if you could give me a