|25|The November morning was keen and cold and Adam and Genie were on their way to spend the day at Andreas Canyon. Adam carried a lunch, a gun, and a book. Genie seemed so exuberant with wonderful spirits that she could scarcely keep her little moccasined feet on the sand. Adam had an unconscious joy in the sight of her.
A dim old Indian trail led up one of the slopes of Andreas Canyon, to which Adam called Genie’s attention.
“We’ll climb this some day—when it comes time to take you away,” said Adam. “It’s a hard climb, but the shortest way out. And you’ll get to see the desert from the top of old Jacinto. That will be worth all the climb.”
His words made Genie pensive. Of late the girl had become more and more beyond Adam’s comprehension—wistful and sad and dreamy by turns, now like a
