"Is it Wartrace?" he inquired, when the touring-car was breasting the
first of the grades in the gulch-threading climb to the second mesa
level.
"No. When you come to the pine-tree, turn to the right up Shonoho
Canyon."
"We can't get anywhere on that road," he objected. "It's washed out and
posted. I tried to go up there the other day when I had Patricia out in
the little car."
"I think you will find it quite passable to-night," was all the answer
he got; and a little later, when they had turned out of the main road
and were ascending the small canyon, the prophecy came true. The brush
barricade had been thrown aside, and there were fresh wheel tracks in
the sand.
At sight of the wheel marks the senator's wife spoke again.
"You have been up here before?"
"Yes, once; in the middle of the summer."
"There is a small hotel at the head of the road."
"I know; but it is closed."
"It has been reopened--please throttle the motor so it won't make so
much noise--the hotel is occupied now, as I say, and that is where we
shall find your father. Are you still willing to do as I tell you to?"
"In all things reasonable."
"As if I'd ask you to do anything unreasonable!" she broke out
half-petulantly. "Listen; there is a lawn with a circular driveway in
front of the hotel. Drive to the outer edge, near the cliff, and stop
the car.
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