"No. When you come to the pine-tree, turn to the right up Shonoho Canyon."
"We can't get anywhere on that road," he objected. "It's washed out and posted. I tried to go up there the other day when I had Patricia out in the little car."
"I think you will find it quite passable to-night," was all the answer he got; and a little later, when they had turned out of the main road and were ascending the small canyon, the prophecy came true. The brush barricade had been thrown aside, and there were fresh wheel tracks in the sand.
At sight of the wheel marks the senator's wife spoke again.
"You have been up here before?"
"Yes, once; in the middle of the summer."
"There is a small hotel at the head of the road."
"I know; but it is closed."
"It has been reopened—please throttle the motor so it won't make so much noise—the hotel is occupied now, as I say, and that is where we shall find your father. Are you still willing to do as I tell you to?"
"In all things reasonable."