``There is just one bush of rhododendron
up there,'' he went on. ``I saw it
looking down from the Point last spring.
I imagine it must blossom earlier than
that across there on Bee Rock, being
always in the sun. No, it's not budding
yet,'' he added, with his eye to the glass.

``You see that ledge just to the left? I
dropped a big rock from the Point square
on a rattler who was sunning himself
there last spring. I can see a foothold
all the way up the cliff. It can be done,''
he concluded, in a tone that made me
turn sharply upon him.

``Do you really mean to climb up
there?'' I asked, harshly.

``If it blossoms first up there--I'll get
it where it blooms first.'' In a moment
I was angry and half sick with suspicion,
for I knew his obstinacy; and
then began what I am half ashamed to
tell.

Every day thereafter Grayson took
that glass with him, and I went along
to humor him. I watched Bee Rock,
and he that one bush at the throat of