The distance from Flagstaff to Williams was so negligible, and the roads so good, that the scouts preferred riding instead of taking the train. At Williams, however, the saddle horses were sent home as requested, and Tally found a buyer for the three pack-horses as well as the outfits for camping. When he handed the money received for the horses to Mr. Gilroy, he grinned and said:
“You travel cheapes’ any one I ever see, Boss.”
“Why? What’s all this money for?” asked Mr. Gilroy.
“T’ree pack-horses in St Michael’s cos’ you sixity-fife dollar. Here in William I sell he’em fer t’irty dollar each, mek ninety. What I sell camp outfit for you I lose some money, but what you mek on t’ree hoss more’n mek up loose, see? So now you trail across desert an’ it no cos’ anything,” explained the guide.
“Here, Tally! we shall go fifty-fifty on the profits of this horse-deal,” declared Mr. Gilroy, sharing the excess money equally.
“Gilly turning horse-trader! Who would have thought it?” laughed Julie, as they started for the railroad station.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL
On the trail from Williams to the Grand Cañon, the scouts found plenty to interest and with which to amuse themselves. The interest was to be had by gazing at the grandeur of the scenery, ever changing from one aspect to another, as the train passed the San Franciscan Mountains and climbed the grade which rose steadily. The amusement was furnished by tourists who seemed possessed in telling others all about the “dos” and “don’ts” one must obey at the Grand Cañon.
Finally, one tourist, his patience quite gone, asked a woman—a pinched-faced, narrow-eyed, thin-lipped woman—how many times she had been through the Cañon. “Perhaps you live there permanently,” said he in conclusion.