“Look here, I’m going out there some day,” said Leon. “It must be great. I looked it up on a map in the library this morning. Your place is right next door to the Yellowstone Park, isn’t it? Do you ever go there?”
Monty shook his head. “I never have yet. It’s only about forty miles, and I’ve always meant to, but somehow I don’t get to do it. You come out there next summer, and we’ll go all over the place.”
“I’d love to! How did you happen to come away off here to school, Monty? Aren’t there any good schools in the west?”
“Piles of them, but I thought I’d like a change. I guess I got it, too,” he added dryly.
“Yes, I reckon Montana—no, Wyoming is a heap different from this. But Terre Haute is quite civilized, isn’t it? That is, a regular city.”
“Oh, we’ve got a trolley car there, and several business blocks,” laughed Monty. “How did you happen to come here?”
“It was father’s idea. He said I ought to know more about the north. Rather silly, I think. I’d rather have gone to a place nearer home. Still this isn’t bad, and there are quite a few southern fellows here. I wonder how we get up this hill.”
“There’s a path over there, isn’t there?”
There was, and ten minutes later they were climbing the steps of the lookout tower that rose from the granite summit of the hill. As Monty had predicted, there was “some view.” Almost at their feet lay the school grounds, dotted with buildings and intersected with gravel walks. Further away was the athletic field, with the freshly limed markings of the tennis courts showing dazzlingly white, and beyond, a narrow ribbon of blue, curved the Needham River. Across the river lay a strip of forest, and then came fields and winding roads, and here and there, a cluster of farm buildings. The village of Grafton seemed quite near with its three church spires and square-topped town hall tower. They could see the clock on the latter, and Monty, after a surreptitious glance at his watch, said that he could even tell the time, which was twenty-six minutes after one, and Leon believed him at first, and was appropriately surprised by his powers of vision. To the right of the village was the railway station, and they could follow the single line of track for some distance westward. On all sides the distance melted into the blue haze of a warm September day.
“It really is a very pretty country,” granted Leon, “and lots greener than it is at home. I’ve never been to England, but I reckon it must look a good deal like this. I suppose you’ve been there, Monty?”