"He certainly was going away from here," Jennie Stone observed. "Who do you suppose he is?"
"I wonder if his eyes are blue and if he has a moustache?" queried Helen, languishingly.
"Bet he has whiskers and chews tobacco. I known these Western men. Bah!"
"Jennie takes all the romance out of it," said Ruth, laughing. "Now I don't care to meet my Man Friday at all."
They ate a picnic lunch before they rode out of the lovely canyon. Mr. Hammond was always good company, and he exerted himself to be interesting to the three girls on this occasion.
"My!" Helen remarked to Jennie, "Ruth does make the nicest friends, doesn't she? See how much fun—how many good times—we have had through her acquaintanceship with Mr. Hammond."
Jennie agreed. But her attention was attracted just then to something entirely different. She was staring up the cliff path that Mr. Hammond had praised as being just the natural landmark needed for the scene the company wished to picture.
"Did you see what I saw?" drawled the plump girl. "Or am I thinking too, too much about mankind?"
"What is the matter with you?" demanded Helen. "I didn't see any man."
"Not up that rocky way—there! A brown coat and a gray hat. Did you see?"