“Not today, Miss Peggy. Under the circumstances I don’t feel I ought to make the third.”
But Peggy paid no attention to Terry Benton’s refusal, because almost immediately Howard Brent interrupted him.
“I am coming along,” he announced brusquely.
Peggy waved her hand.
“Good-bye; I ought to be safe with two escorts.”
Then, with Ralph Marshall in front and Howard Brent behind, the three started down the second trail.
From the fat plateau of rock a second trail descended to another ledge below. The first trail had been gentle and the Camp Fire party had come down to their present resting place without difficulty. But the second trail was a steeper and more dangerous kind.
It was cut into the side of the rock and filled with loose stones and gravel. After the first turn, the rocks on the one side rose up almost perpendicularly and descended with equal abruptness on the other.
There were other trails deeper and deeper, down toward the bottom of the canyon, but these Peggy had promised not to attempt. However, they would have taken too long a time to follow and would have required the service of a guide.
But this particular strata of rocks was still in what is known as the limestone formation. Now and then blocks of blood red showed through the scrubby patches of underbrush, and then there would be a line of grey sandstone, so that the red and grey looked like alternating ribbons.