They watched him go around the turn in the trail. Then Drinkard took two strides to the rock where Royston had sat. He touched a finger tentatively to the stone and snatched it away. "I thought so," he said. "He really liked us, but this time he was careful not to shake hands. In spite of himself, he has reached his limit of control. His temperature is going up." Evers looked on with puzzled eyes. "He never could see a joke and he'd wait to pick our brains for a new word," Drinkard pointed out. "Royston--" "--is a name out of a hat," said John Drinkard. "When that lad really goes home, he'll go with his buddies up there on the peak. I wonder which he is--Dzinn or Dzett." End of Project Gutenberg's The Lights on Precipice Peak, by Stephen Tall