Nucky was down in less than the time allotted.  As he leaned against the office desk, waiting for the guide, the room clerk said, “So you’re the kid that’s afraid to go down the trail.  Usually it’s the old ladies that kick up about that.  Most boys your age are crazy for the trip.”

Nucky muttered something and moved away.  In front of the fire the woman who had smiled at him the day before, smiled again.

“Afraid too, aren’t you!  They can’t get me onto that trail, either.”

Nucky smiled feebly then looked about a little wildly for Frank Allen.  When he espied the guide at the cigar-stand, he crossed to him hurriedly.

“Say now, Mr. Allen, listen!”

“I’m all ears, son!”

“Now don’t tell everybody I’m afraid of the trail!”

“Oh, you’re the kid!” exclaimed a bell boy.  “Say, there was an old lady here once that used to go out every morning and pray to the Lord to close the earth’s gap, it made her so nervous!  Why don’t you try that, kid?  Maybe the Lord would take a suggestion from a New Yorker.”

Nucky rushed to the dining room.  He was too angry and resentful to eat much.  He drank two cups of coffee, however, and swallowed some toast.

“Ain’t you going to eat your eggs?” demanded the waitress.  “What’s the matter with you?  Folks always stuff themselves, here.  Say, don’t let the trail scare you.  I was that way at first, but finally I got my nerve up and there’s nothing to it.  Say, let me give you some advice.  There’s only a few folks here now, so the guides and the hotel people have got plenty of time on their hands.  They’re awful jokers and they’ll tease the life out of you, till you take the trip.  You just get on a mule, this morning, and start.  Every day you wait, you’ll hate it more.”

Nucky’s vanity had been deeply wounded.  Greater than his fear, which was very great indeed, was Nucky’s vanity.  He gulped the second cup of coffee, then with the air of bravado which belonged to Marty the Dude, he sauntered up to the cigar stand where the guide still lounged.

“All right, Frank,” said Nucky.  “I’m ready for Bright Angel when you are.”

The guide looked at the boy carefully.  Two bright red spots were burning in Nucky’s cheeks.  He was biting his lips, nervously.  But his blue eyes were hard and steady.

“I’ll be ready in half an hour, Enoch.  Meet me at the corral.  We’ll camp down below for a night or two if you hold out and I’ll have to have the grub put up.  You go over to the store room yonder and get a flannel shirt and a pair of denim pants to pull on over those you’re wearing.  Mr. Seaton left his camera for you.  I put it on your bureau.  Bring that along.  Skip now!”

Nucky’s cheeks were still burning when he met Allen at the corral.  Three mules, one a well loaded pack mule, the others saddled, were waiting.  Frank leaned against the bars.