"No. You won't. You'll go right through it. By and by, when you're so
rich that father and I won't be allowed to associate with you, you'll
wear riding-breeches--but for riding, not as a donation to the beauties
of nature."
"Oh, I'm already rich. It shows. Waitress down at the camp asked me
whose car I was driving through."
"I know what I wanted to say. Since you won't be our guest, will you be
our host--I mean, as far as welcoming us? I think it would be fun for
father and me to stop at your camp, tomorrow night, at the canyon,
instead of at the hotel. Will you guide me to the canyon, if I do?"
"Oh--terribly--glad!"