Carley was awakened by rattling sounds in her room.The raising of sleepy eyelids disclosed Flo on her knees before the little stove, ill the act of lighting a fire.
"Mawnin', Carley," she drawled."It's shore cold.Reckon it'll snow today, worse luck, just because you're here.Take my hunch and stay in bed till the fire burns up.""I shall do no such thing," declared Carley, heroically.
"We're afraid you'll take cold," said Flo."This is desert country with high altitude.Spring is here when the sun shines.But it's only shinin' in streaks these days.That means winter, really.Please be good.""Well, it doesn't require much self-denial to stay here awhile longer,"replied Carley, lazily.
Flo left with a parting admonition not to let the stove get red-hot.And Carley lay snuggled in the warm blankets, dreading the ordeal of getting out into that cold bare room.Her nose was cold.When her nose grew cold, it being a faithful barometer as to temperature, Carley knew there was frost in the air.She preferred summer.Steam-heated rooms with hothouse flowers lending their perfume had certainly not trained Carley for primitive conditions.She had a spirit, however, that was waxing a little rebellious to all this intimation as to her susceptibility to colds and her probable weakness under privation.Carley got up.Her bare feet landed upon the board floor instead of the Navajo rug, and she thought she had encountered cold stone.Stove and hot water notwithstanding, by the time she was half dressed she was also half frozen."Some actor fellow once said w-when you w-went West you were c-camping out," chattered Carley."Believe me, he said something."The fact was Carley had never camped out.Her set played golf, rode horseback, motored and house-boated, but they had never gone in for uncomfortable trips.The camps and hotels in the Adirondacks were as warm and luxurious as Carley's own home.Carley now missed many things.And assuredly her flesh was weak.It cost her effort of will and real pain to finish lacing her boots.As she had made an engagement with Glenn to visit his cabin, she had donned an outdoor suit.She wondered if the cold had anything to do with the perceptible diminishing of the sound of the waterfall.Perhaps some of the water had frozen, like her fingers.
Carley went downstairs to the living room, and made no effort to resist a rush to the open fire.Flo and her mother were amused at Carley's impetuosity."You'll like that stingin' of the air after you get used to it," said Mrs.Hutter.Carley had her doubts.When she was thoroughly thawed out she discovered an appetite quite unusual for her, and she enjoyed her breakfast.Then it was time to sally forth to meet Glenn.
"It's pretty sharp this mawnin'," said Flo."You'll need gloves and sweater."Having fortified herself with these, Carley asked how to find West Fork Canyon.
"It's down the road a little way," replied Flo."A great narrow canyon opening on the right side.You can't miss it."Flo accompanied her as far as the porch steps.A queer-looking individual was slouching along with ax over his shoulder.
"There's Charley," said Flo."He'll show you." Then she whispered: "He's sort of dotty sometimes.A horse kicked him once.But mostly he's sensible."At Flo's call the fellow halted with a grin.He was long, lean, loose jointed, dressed in blue overalls stuck into the tops of muddy boots, and his face was clear olive without beard or line.His brow bulged a little, and from under it peered out a pair of wistful brown eyes that reminded Carley of those of a dog she had once owned.
"Wal, it ain't a-goin' to be a nice day," remarked Charley, as he tried to accommodate his strides to Carley's steps.
"How can you tell?" asked Carley."It looks clear and bright.""Naw, this is a dark mawnin'.Thet's a cloudy sun.We'll hev snow on an'
off."
"Do you mind bad weather?"
"Me? All the same to me.Reckon, though, I like it cold so I can loaf round a big fire at night.""I like a big fire, too."
"Ever camped out?" he asked.
"Not what you'd call the real thing," replied Carley.
"Wal, thet's too bad.Reckon it'll be tough fer you," he went on, kindly.
"There was a gurl tenderfoot heah two years ago an' she had a hell of a time.They all joked her, 'cept me, an' played tricks on her.An' on her side she was always puttin' her foot in it.I was shore sorry fer her.""You were very kind to be an exception," murmured Carley.
"You look out fer Tom Hutter, an' I reckon Flo ain't so darn above layin'
traps fer you.'Specially as she's sweet on your beau.I seen them together a lot.""Yes?" interrogated Carley, encouragingly.
"Kilbourne is the best fellar thet ever happened along Oak Creek.I helped him build his cabin.We've hunted some together.Did you ever hunt?""No."
"Wal, you've shore missed a lot of fun," he said."Turkey huntin'.Thet's what fetches the gurls.I reckon because turkeys are so good to eat.The old gobblers hev begun to gobble now.I'll take you gobbler huntin' if you'd like to go.""I'm sure I would."
"There's good trout fishin' along heah a little later," he said, pointing to the stream."Crick's too high now.I like West Fork best.I've ketched some lammin' big ones up there."Carley was amused and interested.She could not say that Charley had shown any indication of his mental peculiarity to her.It took considerable restraint not to lead him to talk more about Flo and Glenn.Presently they reached the turn in the road, opposite the cottage Carley had noticed yesterday, and here her loquacious escort halted.
