I want to be off in a half hour."
During the remainder of that very strenuous day, Nucky did not refer
again to the matter so near his heart. He was quiet, but no longer
sullen, and he was boyishly interested in the wonders of the Canyon.
The sun was setting when they at last reached the rim. For an hour
Nucky had not spoken. When Allen had turned in the saddle to look at
the boy, Nucky had nodded and smiled, then returned to his absorbed
watching of the lights and shadows in the Canyon.
They dismounted at the corral. "Now, old man," said Frank, "I want you
to go in and tuck away a big supper, take a hot bath and go to bed.
To-morrow we'll ride along the rim just long enough to fight off the
worst of the saddle stiffness."
"All right!" Nucky nodded. "I'm half dead, that's a fact. But I've
got to tell the clerk and the bell boy a thing or two before I do
anything."
"Go to it!" Frank laughed, as he followed the mules through the gate.
Nucky did not open his eyes until nine o'clock the next morning. When
he had finished breakfast, he found the guide waiting for him in the
lobby.
"Hello, Frank!" he shouted. "Come on! Let's start!"
All that day, prowling through the snow after Allen, Nucky might have
been any happy boy of fourteen.
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