Bell Towers was as beautiful as it had been described, and it was his own for the next few months. But weary as he was, Severance left the place that night, taking a stateroom in the train for Williams—"Williams" being the prosaically-named junction for perhaps the most romantic place in the world, the Grand Canyon.
Getting out at the small station Severance saw no Canyon at first. It couldn't be so huge or wonderful as people said, he thought, and anyhow, he didn't care for scenery—especially now. There was a pine wood, and ascending out of it for a short distance he came to the hotel—a glorified loghouse, it was—such a loghouse as the Geni of the Lamp might have created for Aladdin by request. It was very big and very beautiful. Even Severance, tired and out of temper, couldn't help admitting its charm. Then, on the plateau of the hotel, above the wood, he found himself gazing straight down into the canyon, and far across a gulf of gold and rose.
The man was amazed, almost stunned, for a moment. Constitutionally he dreaded great heights and depths, and though the place was stupendously magnificent, the moment his eyes saw its majesty Severance longed to escape from it. With relief, he turned his back upon the flaming rocks and sapphire depths, and almost ran into the hotel.
There was a vast, low-ceilinged hall, with just the right sort of furniture, and an odd invention—a cross between hammocks and hanging sofas—suspended here and there by chains from the roof. In these things girls sat; and there were several extremely handsome young men lounging about, dressed like cowboys. Severance caught snatches of conversation about ponies, and the "long trail" and the "short trail." Everyone had either just made the descent into the canyon, or intended to make it; but Severance had no wish for the adventure which brought most people to this abode of wonders.
The hotel, it appeared, was nearly full, but there were two or three rooms free for that night, and Tony engaged one. He then inquired the way and the distance to "Vision House."
"Oh, Major Garth's!" exclaimed the hotel clerk. "It's about a mile or a mile and a half from here. It's on the edge of the pine forest—has just a group of big trees between it and the canyon—not enough to hide the view, though. Some think the trees improve it—make a sort of frame. You can walk, easily. But I saw Major Garth in the hotel half an hour ago, with a friend who's convalescing here after being ill. I'm sure he's not gone yet. I can send and see if he——"
"Please don't do that!" Severance broke in. "I am—a relative of Mrs. Garth, and I have a message to deliver from her mother. There's no need to disturb Major Garth if he's with a friend."
Severance had intended to bathe, change into fresh clothes, and have a long, cool drink—the drink of his life—before starting out to call at Vision House. He could thus have been at his best, and have felt sure of doing himself justice in any ordeal he might be destined to go through. But with the certain knowledge that Garth was out of the way—perhaps only for a short time—it would have been tempting Providence to delay for one unnecessary second.
He inquired just how to go, and vetoed the suggestion that he should first look at his room.