Bob looked up to see a young fellow of about his own age coming towards them. He was rather tall and dark and dressed in khaki, and wore canvas leggins. It was the costume of a regular civil engineer, thought the boy from the East.
“This is Jerry King, Bob,” said Whitney. “Another member of my corps. Shake hands with Bob Hazard, Jerry. We will all be together this summer.”
The newcomer put out his hand and Bob grasped it warmly. He was prepared to like anybody and anything in this new life he had begun. After a few words they moved off in the direction of the dining room.
“What have you been up to this afternoon, Jerry?” asked the Chief, when they had found their table.
“Nothing much,” was the answer. “Fooling ’round the Canyon a little.”
“You go down into it, then?” asked Bob.
“Yes, there’s a trail but there’s nothing much down there anyway.” This from Jerry in an unenthusiastic tone.
The talk went on mostly about the Canyon. Bob noticed, however, that Jerry King took very little part in the conversation. He didn’t seem exactly unwilling to talk, but his remarks were few and far between. And when they came they were short and matter of fact. Mr. Whitney appeared not to notice this much. It was rather as if he was used to Jerry’s manner. But Bob, however, felt that he was going to have a hard job in thawing out this chap who was to be his companion through the summer. He wanted to make friends but Jerry seemed to repulse every advance he made.
When supper was over the party went out on the porch of the hotel. The Chief lit his pipe and settled into a big rocking chair. “Well, Bob,” he said, “now that you are here, are you glad that you came?”
“You bet I am,” was the enthusiastic answer.