Sir Bryson reddened too, and murmured something indistinguishable.
Suddenly it came to Jack that he had seen the map before, and a smile twitched the corners of his lips. Since Sir Bryson wished to make a great secret of it, all right—he, Jack, was not obliged to tell all he knew.
Sir Bryson did not see the smile. He was studying the map again. "How far is it to the top of the canyon?" he asked.
"Twelve miles," said Jack. "The trail, as you see, cuts across a bend."
"Is there a good place to camp?"
"Better than here. First-rate water, grass, and wood."
"Can we cross the river if we wish to?"
"There are any number of boats cached along the shore. Everybody bound downstream has to leave his boat there."
"Very well," said Sir Bryson. "Let's move on to-morrow."
When Jack joined Humpy Jull he said briefly: "I was right. The old boy is travelling by Beckford and Rowe's map."