"You bet I do. But this is an awful climb."
It was all of that. One step upward often meant a slide of several short steps backward. The Professor's face was red, and unuttered words were upon his lips. Jim Nance was grinning broadly, his whiskers bobbing up and down as he stumbled up the side of Old Sunset.
"I reckon the tenderfeet will get enough of it before they get to the
Canyon," chuckled the guide.
"Say, Mr. Nance, we don't want to Mister you all the time. What shall we call you for short?" asked Tad Butler.
"Anything you want."
"What d'ye say if we call you Whiskers?" called Stacy.
"Stacy!" rebuked the Professor sternly.
"Oh, let the little tenderfoot rant. He's harmless. Call me Whiskers, if it does ye any good."
"I'm no tenderfoot," protested Chunky.
"Nor be I all whiskers," returned the guide, whereat Chunky's face turned red.