eradicable good humor—all testified to the truth of his panting Odyssey.
The Mountain-Lover took up the refrain, all sympathy. Yes, it was hard at times to find one's way on the paths, especially when they crossed; no, perhaps they were not very plain to a stranger. The trail he should have taken led up around that little precipice that he had faced when he first came out into the open. He could follow the little cairns back across the rocks in this dip, and he would easily find the Sidefoot again and thence down to the house.
But the lost one, perspiring but undaunted, scoffed. He avowed his undiminished determination to get up that old Peak if he burst in the attempt. That was his unswerving determination. He would possibly resign his intentions as to the Ark Trail for the afternoon, but for him it was Pike's Peak or perish. The Mountain-Lover greatly admired his pluck and in accordance with this admiration he found himself offering to go back and plant the feet of this
