“When I was a boy they didn’t have geysers. They were geezers,” muttered Stacy.
“But they had spouters then as now,” chuckled Emma. “I—”
“Hark!” warned Grace, holding up a hand for silence. “I hear a horse coming at a gallop.”
“Perhaps it is one of the troopers coming to see who and what we are,” suggested Tom.
All heard the hoof beats from the direction of Cinnabar; then they saw a rider come around the bend just beyond and slow down as he espied the camp. Halting when he reached the camp, the stranger touched his sombrero and bade the Overlanders a pleasant good-evening.
“Howdy, stranger,” greeted Hippy, walking out to the newcomer. “Get off and have-a snack, won’t you? We have just finished our chow, but there is enough left for you, I reckon.”
“Thankee. I had my supper at Cinnabar. Name’s Jim Badger. I’m one of them guide fellers. Want a guide?”
“Get down and we will talk it over,” invited Hippy, and beckoned to his companions who strolled over and were introduced by Lieutenant Wingate. “This man says he is a guide and offers his services. What do you think about it, folks?”
“Do you know the Park well?” questioned Tom.
“I reckon nobody knows it better.”