"I'm glad of this day," she said, frankly, when they had exhausted the scenery, the matchless morning, the crisp air, and half a dozen other commonplaces. "I enjoyed our trip down from Silver Plume a year ago so much, and it seemed the height of improbability to imagine that we'd ever repeat it. Did you think we ever should?" "No, indeed," replied Brockway, truthfully; "but I have wished many times that we might. Once in awhile, when I was a boy, I used to get a day that was all my own--a day in which I could go where I pleased and do as I liked. Those days are all marked with white stones now, and I often envy the boy who had them." "I think I can understand that." "Can you? I didn't know little girls ever had such days." "I've had a few, but I think they were never given me. They were usually stolen, and so were doubly precious." Brockway laughed. "Suppose we call this a stolen day, and try to make it as much like the others as we can. Shall we?" "It's a bargain," she said, impulsively. "From this minute, I am any irresponsible age you please; and you--you are to do nothing whatever that you meant to do. Will you agree to that?" "Gladly," Brockway assented, the more readily since his plans for the day had been so recently demolished and rebuilt. "We'll go where we please, and do as we like; and for this one day nobody shall say 'Don't!'" She laughed with him, and then became suddenly grave. "It's no use; we can't do it," she said, with mock pathos; "the 'ancients and invalids' won't let us." "Yes, they will," Brockway asserted, cheerfully; "Burton will take care of them--that's what he's here for. Moreover, I shall take it upon myself to abolish the perversities, animate or inanimate." "Please do. And if Mrs. Burton scold me----" "She'd better not," said Brockway, with much severity. "If she does, I'll tell tales out of school and give her something else to think about." "Could you?" "You would better believe it; she is trembling in her shoes this blessed minute for fear I may. But you would have to stand by me." "I? Well, I've promised, you know. What place is this?" The train had entered the great gateway in Table Mountain, and was clattering past the Golden smelting works. "It is Golden--you remember, don't you?" And then Brockway bethought him of something. "Will you excuse me a minute, while I get off and speak to the agent?" "Certainly," said Gertrude; and when the train skirted the high platform, Brockway sprang off and ran quickly to the telegraph office. The operator was just coming out with a freshly written message in his hand. "Hello, Fred," he said; "didn't know you were on. Do you happen to know a Miss Gertrude Vennor? She's with John Burton's party." "Yes," said Brockway, tingling to get hold of the message before Burton should come along. "All right; give her this, will you? I can't leave that blessed wire a minute."