idea."

"I wouldn't advise you to employ any such means again--to dare me," she
retorted.

"That's a nifty outdoor suit you've on," he said, admiringly. "I was
wondering what you'd wear. I like short outing skirts for women, rather
than trousers. The service sort of made the fair sex dippy about pants."

"It made them dippy about more than that," she replied. "You and I will
never live to see the day that women recover their balance."

"I agree with you," replied Glenn.

Carley locked her arm in his. "Honey, I want to have a good time today.
Cut out all the other women stuff. . . . Take me to see your little gray
home in the West. Or is it gray?"

He laughed. "Why, yes, it's gray, just about. The logs have bleached some."

Glenn led her away up a trail that climbed between bowlders, and meandered
on over piny mats of needles under great, silent, spreading pines; and
closer to the impondering mountain wall, where at the base of the red rock
the creek murmured strangely with hollow gurgle, where the sun had no
chance to affect the cold damp gloom; and on through sweet-smelling woods,
out into the sunlight again, and across a wider breadth of stream; and up a
slow slope covered with stately pines, to a little cabin that faced the
west.

"Here we are, sweetheart," said Glenn. "Now we shall see what you are made