Jack reluctantly yielded to his companion, who made his way toward a livery-stable which he had seen when they came to their boarding-house. There they engaged a couple of saddle-horses which seemed to know what they were expected to do, for when allowed the rein they put off toward the mountains, and went along at a brisk pace. Jack could not get over grumbling about hiring horses to do what they could do themselves, but Julian did not pay the least attention to it. When they had gone a long distance on the road they met a teamster, and of him Jack inquired how many miles they had yet to travel to reach their destination.
"Them mountains?" asked the man, facing about in his seat. "They are a matter of six miles from here."
"If I had a good start for a run I believe I could jump that far," said Jack.
"Yes, it does look that way," said the man; "but it would be a mighty lengthy jump for you. I guess you are a tenderfoot—ain't you?"
"I never was so far West as this in my life."
The man had evidently heard all that he wanted to hear, for he started his team, smiling and nodding his head as if to say that Jack would learn more about distances on the prairie before he had been there long.
The distance was fully as great as the boys expected to find it; and, when they drew up in front of a little hotel in the foothills, the mountains seemed to be as far off as ever. The proprietor came to the door, bid them good-morning in his cheery way, and asked if there was anything that he could do for them.
"How far off are those peaks from here?" questioned Jack.
"Twenty miles," said the man. "You are not going out there to-day, are you?"
"Why, the folks in Denver told us that the mountains were twelve miles away," said Jack, greatly surprised.