m the edge to avoid any possible danger.

"Oh, dear!" whispered Myrtle, clinging to Beth's arm with trembling
fingers, "I'm afraid he's going to--to commit suicide!"

"Nonsense!" answered Beth, turning pale nevertheless.

The figure was motionless as before. Uncle John and the Major started
along the path but as Beth attempted to follow them Myrtle broke away
from her and hobbled eagerly on her crutches toward the stranger. She
did not go quite to the end of the jutting rock, but stopped some feet
away and called in a low, intense voice:

"Don't!"

The man turned again, with no more expression in his eyes or face than
before. He looked at Myrtle steadily a moment, then turned and slowly
left the edge, walking to firm ground and back toward the hotel
without another glance at the girl.

"I'm so ashamed," said Myrtle, tears of vexation in her eyes as she
rejoined her friends. "But somehow I felt I must warn him--it was an
impulse I just couldn't resist."

"Why, no harm resulted, in any event, my dear," returned Beth. "I
wouldn't think of it again."

They took so long a walk that all were nearly famished when they
returned to the hotel for breakfast.

Of course Patsy and Beth wanted to go down Bright Angel Trail into the
depths of the canyon, for that is the thing all adventurous spirits
love to do.

"I'm too fat for such foolishness," said Uncle John, "so I'll stay up
here and amuse Myrtle."

The Major decided to go, to "look after our Patsy;" so the three
joined the long line of daring tourists and being mounted on docile,
sure-footed burros, followed the guide down the trail.

Myrtle and Uncle John spent the morning on the porch of the hotel. At
breakfast the girl had noticed the tall man they had encountered at
the canyon's edge quietly engaged in eating at a small table in a far
corner of the great dining room. During the forenoon he came from the
hotel to the porch and for a time stood looking far away over the
canyon.

Aroused to sympathy by the loneliness of this silent person, Uncle
John left his chair and stood beside him at the railing.

"It's a wonderful sight, sir," he remarked in his brisk, sociable way;
"wonderful indeed!"

For a moment there was no reply.

"It seems to call one," said the man at length, as if to himself. "It
calls one."

"It's a wonder to me it doesn't call more people to see it," observed
Mr. Merrick, cheerfully. "Think of this magnificent thing--greater and
grander