This homogeneous sandstone was like smooth broadcloth, compared to the rough serge of the granite or the tweeds of the thin bedded sandstone. There were also groves and glen with broad-leaved trees as well as pines.
"This seems like a picnic," said Tom, "after tumbling and twisting and turning through that old gorge back there."
"You just wait," said Jim, "till we come to the granite gorge of the Colorado, then you will have something to talk about."
"I won't wait," said Tom, "I guess I'll go home now."
"Stay, stay, fair sir," adjured Jim, "we will prospect in this canyon for gold and precious gems, the latter of which you can take home to the dukes and other members of the Royal Family."
"You can joke all you please," retorted Tom, "the trouble with you guys is that you haven't brains enough to appreciate my kind of books."
"The saints be praised for that," ejaculated Jim, "I may have my faults of reputation and of character, but no one can accuse me without being shot of reading silly novels about the Lady Arabella and her lover, Lord Lumox."
Tom's face had grown red with repressed anger and suppressed speech.
"Look, boys!" I cried in alarm.
"What is it? What is it?" they both exclaimed.