“Aw, can’t we take it along and find a place to use it?”
“Nothing doing. We don’t carry any excess baggage out here, son.”
The climb up Garfield proved to be an easy one. The trail was clear of snow for half the distance, and the rest of the short thousand feet was over drifts that were neither difficult nor dangerous, till they reached a little flat place a hundred feet short of the summit. Here a sheer precipice confronted them, with the summit snow cap hanging out over it like the cornice of a gigantic house roof.
Mr. Stone set up his camera some distance out from the cliff.
“Now, I want you all to go up there, around on the side, where the trail goes, and come out into view on the left end of the top. Then walk in single file, slowly, along the cornice to the right, and then move back out of sight again. When you get to the top, don’t come into view till I yell, ‘Shoot!’”
“You mean you want us to walk out on that snow that hangs over the precipice, Pa?” Lester demanded.
“Sure, why not?”
“Well, if it breaks off with our weight, where do we go from there?”
“It won’t break. You don’t have to get right on the edge of it, of course. But it would hold up a team of horses.”
“Yes, but will it hold up Dumplin’?” said Bennie.