"Merce has such a unique personality that I am sure you are going to enjoy her," beamed Miss Gaskett in presenting Wallie.
Wallie murmured that he had no doubt of it, and boosted Miss Mercy into the surrey.
With nothing further to detain them, Mr. Hicks swung his lash and the four went off at a gallop, with the cooking utensils in the rear rattling so that it sounded like a runaway milk-wagon.
He had been instructed to drive ahead and select a suitable place for the noon-day luncheon in order that everything should be in readiness upon their arrival, but to the others Wallie had suggested that they ride and drive more slowly to save the horses.
In spite of Wallie's request, however, Mr. Stott, seeing the cook getting ahead, started off at a gallop to overtake him. In no uncertain voice Wallie called to him.
"You will oblige me if you will ride more slowly," Wallie said, speaking very distinctly when Mr. Stott came back to ask what was wanted.
"Why, what's the matter?"
His feigned innocence added to Wallie's anger.
"I don't want that horse ruined."
"I am paying for him," Stott returned, insolently.
"I still own him, and it's my privilege to say how he shall be ridden."
Stott dropped back suddenly but Wallie foresaw trouble with him before the trip was finished, though he meant to hold his temper as long as possible.
The reprimand had a beneficial effect upon the other equestrians, who had contemplated dashing after Mr. Stott, but now concluded to jog along at a reasonable gait, working off their superfluous energy in asking questions. Did eagles really carry off children? And was the earth under the Yellowstone Park hollow?
In the surrey "Red" McGonnigle was putting forth his best efforts to entertain Aunt Lizzie and Miss Mercy, which he considered as much a part of his duties as driving.
A portion of the road was through a cañon, cut from the solid rock in places, with narrow turnouts, and a precipitous descent of hundreds of feet to a sinister-looking green river roaring in the bottom.
"Now, here," said Mr. McGonnigle, as they entered it, lolling back in the seat and crossing his legs in leisurely fashion, "is where there's been all kinds of accee-dents."
He pointed with the stub of a buggy-whip: "About there is where four horses on a coal-wagon run away and went over. Two was killed and one was crippled so they had to shoot it."
"Oh, how dread-ful!" Aunt Lizzie exclaimed, nervously.
Miss Mercy's contralto voice boomed at him: "What happened to the driver?"
"His bones was broke in a couple of dozen places, but they picked him up, and sence, he has growed together."