“I found it,” she announced grimly.
A great deal of time was consumed after breakfast in packing the twelve burros, for among the party only Shirttail Henry was an expert at the art. He was careful in his preparations, and when all was ready for the start nobody could think of anything necessary that he had omitted from the pack. He hazed the little animals into the trail and followed them on foot, the remainder of the party bringing up the rear on their saddle horses.
The morning was crisp, the air tingling with frost. The thud of the animals’ hoofs came clear and distinct, for the ground was frozen and an uncanny hush dwelt in the heavy forest through which they passed. The saddle horses frisked about, shying at this and that familiar object, and their nostrils shot forth white steam, even as the nostrils of fearsome dragons shoot forth smoke and fire and brimstone. Squirrels scurried rattlingly over dead leaves from their interrupted breakfasts, to twitch their grey plumes and wrinkle their muzzles at the travellers from the security of lofty branches.
“Great morning to start our adventure,” commented Andy Jerome, as they came upon a wide stretch of trail and he urged his horse to the side of Charmian’s.
“Absolutely perfect,” Charmian agreed. “My, but my feet are cold! Andy, I wonder if we are absolute idiots, after all. Sometimes I think that, if Doctor Shonto weren’t with us to lend the expedition an air of dignity and—well, consequence—I’d lose my nerve. You and I are mere kids, and don’t really know whether we have any business to undertake this thing or not. But Doctor Shonto is a man of brains and experience—a somebody—and it bolsters up my courage a lot to know that he is with us and seems to approve. Were you surprised at his coming along?”
“Yes,” said Andy shortly.
“I wonder why he did come,” mused the girl.
“That’s a simple question to answer,” Andy told her with boyish sulkiness. “He came because of you.”
She looked at him quickly, then lowered her eyes. Charmian knew perfectly well that Andy Jerome was in love with her, and this knowledge did not distress her in the least. She did not know whether or not she was in love with Andy, but she knew that she liked to have his admiring eyes upon her and to note the little caress in his tones when he spoke to her in lowered accents. She knew now that Andy bitterly resented his friend’s interest in her. But, of course, womanlike, she pretended innocence.
“Do you think the doctor is interested in me?” she asked.