CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR THE YOUNG ENGINEER DREAMS
Carol and Jimmy-Boy returned alone from school, for Ken, with the bookhe had borrowed from "dear teacher" under his arm, had gone at once tothe top of the low peak, and, having shaded his eyes from the glare ofthe sun that was low in the west, he looked toward the high mountainbeyond. Then, as he did not find what he sought, he let his gaze wanderslowly over the valley that was silvery with sand and sagebrush.
With a sudden whoop of joy, he leaped from the rock upon which he hadbeen standing, and started running as best he could down the trail onthe lake side of the low mountain, toward a column of wavering smokewhich could be seen half a mile away, near a stream where small troutwere plentiful. As he approached the place, the column of smoke dieddown, but he no longer needed its guidance for he had reached therushing, bubbling mountain brook and was soon clambering up over thejagged rocks, pausing now and then to halloo. At first only a hollowecho replied, but soon he heard the voice for which he had listened.
"Hi-ho! Friend or foe?"
"Friend, I'll say!" Ken joyfully shouted as he scrambled over theremaining boulder, and found, as he had suspected, a fisherman standingon the brink of the stream casting a tempting fly. On the bank at theside of the young giant, lay at least two dozen of the shining troutthat would be so delicious when fried.
"Shall I keep quiet?" the boy asked, his eyes sparkling as he looked atthe catch, but the fisherman shook his head and drew in his line.
"No, sonny, indeed not. You have only a few moments to stay, for thedays are short now. The darkness drops down almost as soon as the sun isset. So-ho, you have a book for me? A ponderous volume, indeed! Wells?Great! I'll enjoy reading that. How long may I keep it?"
"I--I don't know. I--I didn't ask teacher." Then the boy grinned as heseated himself astride a rock near one on which Frederick Edrington satturning the pages of the book.
Looking up suddenly, the young engineer asked, "Why so merry?" Then,closing the volume, he queried with interest, "What did you tell yourteacher about me?"
"I tried not to tell her any lies," Ken declared, "but I'm afraid shesort o' got the idea that you're a real old man, and, 'cause I said thatyou liked to read history, she took the notion that you're ahermit-professor, and that you're living up here to study out something,rocks or fossils, whatever that may be."
The young man, with hands folded behind his thick, waving chestnut-brownhair, laughed as he replied, "I'm glad she does, although I can't seequite how she can reconcile that image of me with the name of mychoice."
"Oh, I know now!" cried the boy, springing up in his eagerness. "MissBayley thinks you're a very old man, 'most a hundred, who is anaturalist, and she wanted me to ask you if you'd like to have her newbook on the snakes that inhabit these mountains."
"Indeed I would! It doesn't matter what--er--your teacher suggestssending to me, Ken, tell her I'll be delighted to have it." The boy,who, just to keep his hands occupied, had started whittling, looked upwhen his companion hesitated. Little did he dream that on the tip ofFrederick Edrington's tongue had been "vision of loveliness," but, sinceonly two days before the engineer had declared that he had never been inlove, and never would be in love, he did not wish to awaken in the lad'smind even a suspicion of the real interest with which the "old hermit"regarded the young teacher. Rising, the fisherman selected twelve of thelargest of the small trout. "Ken, old pal," he said, "would it be toomuch to ask you to take these to your teacher? I'd like to have her seethem just as they are, with their glistening scales still on, but, whenshe has admired them, will you prepare them for her, that she may frythem for her supper?" The boy had also risen and his eyes were glowing."Bet you, I will," he declared. "That'll be a jolly fine way for you tosay thanks for the book." Then, after promising to return the followingSaturday, the boy took up the string of fish, shook the big hand of thetall friend whom he so admired, and started, half-running, half-slidingdown the trailless side of the mountain, turning back every few momentsto wave to the young man who stood, with arms folded, watching until thelad disappeared over the crest of the lower mountain on the other sideof which lay the small hamlet of Woodford's.
Then, reseating himself, Frederick Edrington again opened the big book.As he did so, a kodak picture fluttered to the ground.
With a heart thumping in a most disconcerting manner, the young man, who"never had been in love and never would be in love," stooped to pick itup.
"Queer now," he thought, as he gazed long at the beautiful face thatsmiled up at him. "Queer now, isn't it?"
A wind, rising with the setting of the sun and the cool rush of thewaters, was all the reply that he heard, and feeling happier than he hadin many a day, he returned to his camp.
Dixie Martin, the Girl of Woodford's Cañon Page 35