TRAILSIDE.
He wondered what that stood for. There was no time now for talk. Berley’s hard little knuckles had made contact with the door.
The next instant they stood blinking in the light that came from the cabin. Before them, holding his dog by the collar, was a tall, well-built man whose graying hair said he might be forty. His face, though seamed and tanned from constant exposure, bore the touch of eternal youth, a heritage of those who spend their lives in wild and silent places.
For a space of seconds he stared at them. Then his face lighted with a smile as he exclaimed:
“Why! It’s the little half-portion, Berley Todd! Put her there!” He extended a brawny brown hand.
Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he drew back and stared.
“But—but what are you doing here at this time?”
“Came by plane,” Berley explained with a laugh. “Didn’t you hear us arrive?”
“N-no.” The look on the guide’s face was strange to see.
“You wouldn’t of course. We came in the night.