“Just about.  And it’ll be summer when we reach the river.”

“That was some trail, wasn’t it, Frank!  Do many kids take it?”

“Lots of ’em, but only with guides, and you were the worst case of scared boy I’ve ever seen.”

Nucky flushed.  “Well, you might give me credit for hanging to it, even if I was scared.”

“I’ll give you a lot of credit for that, old man.  But if the average New York boy has nerves like yours, I’m glad many of them don’t come to the Canyon, that’s all.  Your nerves would disgrace a girl.”

“The guys I gamble with never complained of my lack of nerves,” cried Nucky, angrily.

“Gambling!  Thunder!  What nerve does it take to stack the cards against a dub?  But this country out here, let me tell you, it takes a man to stand up to it.”

“And I’ve been through police raids too, and never squealed and I know two gunmen and they say I’m as hard as steel.”

“They should have seen you with your arms around Spoons’ neck, back up the trail there,” said Allen dryly.  “Come!  Mount again, Enoch!  I want to have lunch at the river.”

Enoch was sullen as they started on but his sullenness did not last long.  As his fear receded, his curiosity increased.  He gazed about him with absorbed interest, and he began to bombard the guide with questions in genuine boy fashion.

“How far is it to the river?  Do we have any steeper trails than the ones we’ve been on, already?  Did any one ever swim across the river?  Was any one ever killed when he minded what the guide told him?  What guys camp in the Indian gardens?  How much does it cost?  Did any one ever climb up the side of the Canyon, say like one yonder where it looked like different colored stair steps going up?  Did any one ever find gold in the canyon?  How did they know it when they found it?  Did Frank ever do any mining?  What was placer mining?” And on and on, only the intermittently returning fear of the trail silencing him until Frank ordered him to dismount in a narrow chasm within sight of the roaring, muddy Colorado.

“One of the ways Seaton employed to persuade me to take care of you for a week was by telling me you were a very silent kid,” added the guide.

Nucky grinned sheepishly, and turned to stare wonderingly at the black walls that here closed in upon them breathlessly.  Their lunch had been prepared at the hotel.  Frank fed the mules, then handed Nucky his box lunch and proceeded to open his own.

“Does it make you sore to have me ask you questions?” asked the boy.

“No!  I guess it’s more natural for a kid than the sulks you’ve been keeping up with Seaton.”

“I’m not such a kid.  I’m going on fifteen and I’ve earned my own way since I was twelve.  And I earn it with men, too.”  Nucky jerked his head belligerently.

Frank ate a hard boiled egg before speaking.  Then, with one eyebrow raised, he grunted, “What’d you work at?”