As the railroad line left the roadside and curved away into a mountain pass, they felt a momentary lonesomeness, the trusty rails had guided them so far on the long journey. It was like saying good-by to a friend, a friend who knew the way. For a minute they conferred again on whether they should “count the ties,” but they decided in favor of the road. So they went upon their adventure along the road, just as the great, thundering, invincible train had gone upon its adventure along the shining tracks. “Yellowstone Park is just about like this,” said Westy; “I mean the wild parts. Of course there are things to see there like geysers and all that, but I mean the wild parts; it’s wild just like this. I suppose there are trails,” he added with a note of wistfulness in his voice. “I suppose they know just where to go if they want to get a look at grizzlies. I’d be willing to give up the other things, you bet, if I could go on a trip like that. I was going to ask Mr. Wilde, only I knew he’d just guy me about it.” “We can see the film when it comes out anyway,” said Ed, always cheerful and optimistic. “We can go up on Mount what-do-you-call it, Pelican——” “Pelican Cone,” said Westy. Already that hallowed mountain was familiar to him in imagination and dear to his heart. “Can’t you remember _Cone_?” “I can remember it by ice cream cone,” said Ed. “What I was going to say was if that film comes to Bridgeboro we can go up on that cone for thirty cents and the war tax. What more do we want?” “Sugar-coated adventures,” said Warde. “Sugar-coated is right,” said Westy disgustedly. “Now you’ve got me thinking about candy,” said Ed. “I hope we can buy some in the Park.” “Do you suppose they have merry-go-rounds there?” Warde asked. “Gee whiz, I hope so,” said Ed. “I’m just crazy for a sight of wild animals. Imitation ones would be better than nothing, hey, Westy?” “Imitation scouts are better than no kind,” said Warde. “We’re pretty good imitations.” “I wouldn’t admit it if I were you,” said Westy with the least suggestion of a sneer. “A scout that gives imitations is an imitation scout,” said Ed. “Dutch Cleanser is an imitation scout; he imitates animals, Mr. Wilde West said so. That proves everybody’s wrong. What’s the use of quarreling? None whatever. Correct the first time. You can be a scout without knowing it, that’s what I am.” “Nobody ever told you you were Daniel Boone, did they?” Westy sulked. “They don’t have to tell me, I know it already,” said the buoyant Ed.