“We arrived not half an hour ago, and Mrs. Alexander was just telling us about that dreadful trip down to Phantom Ranch. I only wish I had been there, to try to encourage you when you feared instant death over the rim of Bright Angel. Mrs. Alexander says the trail got its name from the many lives which are being sacrificed while trying to go up or down that perpendicular path.” Mr. Dalken’s face showed no hint of a smile as he spoke, but Dodo laughed outright.
“Why, Ma! I should think you’d try to keep your fears to yourself,” exclaimed the girl. “As for telling any one how the trail got its name—that is too absurd for anything! Some one has been stringing you, that’s all.”
“I reckon I ought to know, young lady!” snapped Dodo’s mother. “Mr. Atchison is very well-informed, and he spent more than an hour this morning before he left, in telling me all about Grand Canyon and how the trails got their various names.”
“Mr. Atchison tried to see just how much hot air you would take,” chuckled Mr. Alexander.
“Ebeneezer! I told you a few minutes ago that you must not treat me as you have in the past. I realize how far above you I am in my ideals and social polish, and I demand recognition of my station,” was Mrs. Alexander’s severe reprimand.
Her husband failed to be impressed by her hauteur, however, and his laugh echoed through the room. In fact, it was so spontaneous and contagious that all the others in the group—except Mrs. Alexander, of course—had to smile with him.
“Well, well, girls! Come sit down and hear our story,” interrupted Mr. Dalken, eager to silence these two bickering partners. And that invitation instantly changed the trend of thought.
“Now, begin at the very beginning, Dalky—when you-all left us at Flagstaff and rushed away without telling us where, or who with, or when you’d get back,” coaxed Polly, eagerly.
“All right, then,” agreed Mr. Dalken. “In the parlance of the fairy tales, I’ll say: ‘Once upon a time there were three wise men who went to a far-off land to seek their fortunes.’” The narrator smiled as he indicated Mr. Fuzzier, Mr. Alexander and himself. “Well, these wise men thought they had reached the land of their dreams without others being aware of their coming. But they were to learn that not only had certain individuals in Chicago telegraphed the advent of these wise men to certain individuals in and near the section of country where the three friends were going to take fortune by the forelock, but they discovered also that every movement since they left Chicago until they were on the drive from Flagstaff to Sedona was known to those who were waiting with their nets wide open to entrap the unwary, innocent, gullible, wise men.”
The girls giggled at Mr. Dalken’s latter part of the tale, but Polly interpolated: “Oh, do speak in simple English, Dalky! The story is going to be too thrilling for round-about methods.”