"
"Don't make a mountain out of a mole hill, Forr," said Milton. "If you
fellows aren't careful you'll have a real quarrel, and that's the last
thing I'm going to stand for, I warn you."
"Very well, Milt," replied Forrester, "if you don't want trouble make
Harden keep his tongue off me."
"The fault is primarily yours, Hard," Milton went on. "You know
Forrester is foolishly sensitive and you can't control your love of
teasing. Now, once for all, I ask you not to speak to Forrester except
on the business of the survey."
Harden shrugged his shoulders and Forrester scowled a little
sheepishly. Agnew, a serene, kindly fellow, began one of his endless
Irish stories, and the incident appeared to be closed. The work
assigned for the day was accomplished in shorter order than Milton had
anticipated. By two o'clock all hands were back in camp and Milton
decided to embark and move on as far as possible before nightfall. But
scarcely had they finished loading the boats and tied on the tarpaulins
when a heavy rain began to fall, accompanied by lightning and
tremendous peals of thunder that echoed through the Canyon deafeningly.
Milton, in his anxiety to get on with his task, would have continued in
spite of the rain, but the others protested so vigorously that he gave
in and the whole party crawled under a sheltering ledge beside the
brook.
Pages:
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306