“Daddy, I thought I was supposed to be helping with this. I heard Roger say so yesterday, and you said it the first night.”
“Oh? And how did you hear what I said that night? As I recall, the matter was not discussed until after you were in bed. What I said then goes — you can go with either Roger or Edie on their walks, but you still observe the limits when you’re by yourself. Billie, you too! There’ll be plenty of long trips for all of you, without your having to go off on your own, and there’s always been plenty to keep you occupied around here. I’ve been promising for five or six years to get a load of cement up here if you folks would get enough loose rock together to make a dam out here — I’d like a swimming pool myself. Don doesn’t think we need cement for it, but that’s something he’ll have to prove. I’ll be glad if he can do without it, of course.” He leaned back and stretched his legs. Billy promptly transferred his perch from Don’s shoulders to his father’s shins, and put his own oar into the conversation. He wanted one of the trips before his father went prospecting, and expressed himself at considerable length on the subject. Mr. Wing remained non-committal until the striking of the clock brought relief. He pulled in his legs abruptly, depositing the youngster on the floor.
“Small fry to bed!” he pronounced solemnly.
“Story!” yelled Margie. “You haven’t read since we got here!” Her father pursed his lips.
“How long do you suppose it would take them to be ready for bed?” he asked, as though to himself. There was a flurry of departing legs. Mr. Wing turned to the bookcase beside the fireplace, and encountered the grinning face of his second son. “All right, young man, we need some fun — but some of us need discipline, too. Suppose you and Edie save time by popping upstairs and imitating the excellent example of your juniors!” Still chuckling, the two did so.
For some reason, the story lasted until quite late. The beginning was vastly exciting, but the pace calmed down later, and Billy and Margie were both carried up to bed at the end — though they refused to believe the fact in the morning.
Roger tried at breakfast to make the small boy tell the end of the story and was surprised when Billy refused to accept his inability to do so as evidence that he had been asleep. The older boy gave up at last and went to saddle the horses; he was constitutionally unfitted to hold his own in an argument where the opponent’s only words were “I was not either!”
It was shopping day, and Roger’s turn to go down to Clark Fork with his mother to obtain the necessities for the next week. They left as soon after breakfast as the animals could be readied. Edie and the younger children went off on their own; as soon as everyone was away from the house Mr. Wing and Don dressed themselves in hiking clothes and headed east. Roger would have given much to see them go.
The trails were good, and for a couple of hours the two made very satisfactory progress. For the most part they followed the creeks, but once or twice the older man led the way over open spurs of rock which involved considerable climbing.
“This is about the quickest way to the transmitter, Don,” he said at one point. “It’s a lot closer to the house than even your mother realizes — though goodness knows I wouldn’t hide it from her if she cared to come on one of these hikes. On the regular trips, I follow a very roundabout path I worked out years ago when I was really afraid of being followed. That was just after the first World War, long before I’d even met your mother. There were a number of people around this part of the country then who would cheerfully have tossed me off a hilltop for a fraction of the value I brought back from the first trip. I tell you, I did some pretty serious thinking on the way in from that trip. You’ll see why very shortly.”