“Folks who go there always have trouble?” Jack asked, grinning.
“Yeah. As I said, it’s a wild area—no place for amateur climbers.”
“Odd you’ve never gone there yourself,” Mr. Livingston said, eying the rancher thoughtfully.
“I’ve often wanted to,” Warner confessed, “especially when I was younger and my legs were in better condition.”
“You seem in pretty fair shape to me right now,” the Scout leader replied.
“Oh, I try to keep fit.” Warner abruptly got up and walked to the window again. Staring toward the faraway mountains, he said: “I’d have tried to find that valley years ago, but I never had the time. Now—”
“Yes?” Mr. Livingston prodded as the rancher fell into meditative silence.
“Well, it’s no climb to tackle alone. Frankly, there’s no one hereabouts that I could take with me. Plenty would be eager to go, but they’d be a hindrance, not a help.”
“We know someone who would be tickled to go,” War cut in with a chuckle.
“Oh?”