men who run them and I took the risk of
denying her nothing. Up and up we went,
those two mules swaying from side to side
with a motion little short of elephantine
and, by and by, the Blight called out:

``You ride ahead and don't you DARE
look back.''

Accustomed to obeying the Blight's
orders, I rode ahead with eyes to the front.
Presently, a shriek made me turn suddenly.
It was nothing--my little sister's mule had
gone near a steep cliff--perilously near, as
its rider thought, but I saw why I must not
look back; those two little girls were riding
astride on side-saddles, the booted little
right foot of each dangling stirrupless--a
posture quite decorous but ludicrous.

``Let us know if anybody comes,'' they
cried. A mountaineer descended into sight
around a loop of the path above.

``Change cars,'' I shouted.

They changed and, passing, were grave,
demure--then they changed again, and
thus we climbed.