“Oh! then I shall see that both the men write you picture post-cards as we travel westward,” suggested Julie.
“I don’t care about that, but I do care about having you write: will you?”
“Post-cards? Why, I will, if no one else has time,” teased Julie.
“You know very well what I mean. Our time is so short, can’t you be serious just for a moment? I want you to promise to write letters to me—tell me what you are doing, where you are going, whom you are seeing! I want to feel that I am with you when you go through that wonderful Canyon in Arizona, when you go down Bright Angel, and when you camp in the bed of the Colorado River. Will you invite me to be with you by sharing your experiences in a letter?”
Julie had had many boyish admirers in Elmertown. After the Adirondack Camp the Boy Scouts of Grey Fox wrote frequently, and she answered their letters. She was too pretty and vivacious a girl to remain in the background of any society, hence she enjoyed light-hearted flirtations, and only last winter a few of her sister May’s callers took notice of her and included her in any party or outing. But this was a very different kind of a man from the boys she knew. While she was highly flattered, she was not quite certain whether she ought to encourage his apparent tendency to become attached to her. Several moments passed in utter silence while she thought. Sandy understood and waited.
Julie sighed in uncertainty and glanced at the young man who sat and awaited her answer. She saw how eager he seemed, and she thought of the life he lived with a much older man all alone on that mountain-top. Then she had a bright idea.
“I’ll send you the copies of the Elmertown Record! There you can read in print exactly what we are doing, eh?”
“No! I’ll have no cold print. I want personal letters in your hand-writing, or nothing!” He was certainly getting to speak with authority, was Julie’s thought. Then she giggled as she heard, in mind, Joan’s comment.
“Regular cave-man manner, Jule!”
“You’re going to say yes—I know you are,” exulted Sandy.