Just below Indian Gardens the leading guide turned off the Bright Angel Trail and followed the Tonto Trail, which led down to the bottom of the Canyon, and finally, known as the Kaibab Trail, ran across the Colorado, via the great suspension bridge. Farther on they reached Phantom Ranch, which was located in Bright Angel Canyon.
The trip had been most enjoyable to every one but that one who had a chip upon her shoulder. And finally, when the party dismounted at Phantom Ranch for the night, they were tired from the long ride, but eager to enjoy supper and an evening indoors.
Mrs. Alexander had planned to square herself with Mr. Atchison that evening, but she was so worn out from riding all day that the unusual exercise made her only too glad to crawl into bed. She ordered her supper sent to her room, and she also commandeered a maid to rub her aching bones with liniment. That proved to be an unusual bonanza for the servant, because Mrs. Alexander never was niggardly in rewarding dependents, and this girl had eased her distress to such a degree that she lavished money upon her in return.
Early the following morning the guides roused their party and urged them to make haste and get along the trail again. Mrs. Alexander found herself so stiff and sore, however, that she could not get up. Try as she would to move her joints and make her limbs obey her order, she found she lacked power to do so. Hence it was found that she would have to remain at Phantom Ranch that day and rest in order to continue back up-trail to El Tovar Hotel the next morning.
Naturally she rebelled against nature’s demand, and she proved she could be a disagreeable guest. But Mr. Atchison had acquitted himself bravely, as well he might, seeing he was to be freed from tiresome attentions all that day.
In a spirit of mischief, as well as of freedom, he sent a large box of bon bons and several magazines to Mrs. Alexander’s room with his card, upon which he wrote “regrets.”
Of course, Mrs. Alexander decided that the gentleman was heart-broken because she would not be with him that day, and she smiled, even as she groaned with aching bones; then she turned to open the box of candy.
The season for crowds of tourists having long been passed, the Ranch host had not stocked up with fresh bon bons. The box sent to Mrs. Alexander had been discovered back upon a shelf of the cupboard, and no one knew how long it had been hiding there. Consequently, the first bite in the chocolate-covered cocoanut bar caused Mrs. Alexander to get rid of it quicker than she had bitten into it. The cocoanut had soured, and the lady was finicky about her candies.
That box of sweets proved to be as genuine a failure as the love-affair Mrs. Alexander had planned between the donor of the bon bons and herself. With a deep sigh, she now turned her attention to the magazines. Here, at least, she would find pastime in whiling away the lonesome hours that day!
The first magazine she took up was the Popular Science Monthly, having, as advertised, all the pictures of recent inventions and scientific discoveries. This periodical she flung across the room—what had she in common with such stuff!