Sandy shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I don’t see why not, though. School’s out for the summer and we haven’t made any plans of our own.”

“Guess we’ll just have to hold our breath,” Mike said and started for his father’s den with the papers he had collected. “Tell Mom the decks are clear.”

“Okay, but let me see that map again.” Sandy reached out and took a large-scale National Geographic map of Idaho from the pile Mike was carrying. A rough red crayon circle had been drawn around the Snake River country in the southern part of the state. An X was placed further north near the town of Salmon and a thin line followed the Lost River down through a blue-gray area known as the Lost River Range. Judging from the color of the map, the altitude there varied between 8,000 and 11,000 feet. There wasn’t a sign of a town or a road for miles. It was real Rocky Mountain country, unspoiled, wild and beautiful, exactly as Sandy had always hoped one day to see it.

And now, at last, he had a chance. Mr. Cook and Mike were planning a pack trip along the Lost River and they wanted to take him along. In his mind’s eye he already saw the rugged splendor of the mountains, smelled the pungent smoke of a crackling campfire after a full day’s hunting or fishing.

“Hey, wake up! You look as if you’re dreaming.” It was Mike, back from his father’s den.

Sandy looked over at him, shook his head and sighed. “I was, Mike, I really was.”

Mike clapped a sympathetic hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Worrying won’t help. Why don’t you hunt up Dad and see how he made out? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

Sandy smiled back and nodded. He had known Mike and his parents for only a little over ten days, but already they were like a second family to him. He had heard about the Cooks for about as long as he could remember. Mr. Cook was his father’s oldest friend. The two men had met early in their careers and had worked on a number of projects together. John Steele was a government geologist, while Arthur Cook was a mining engineer—one of the best in the business, according to Sandy’s father.

Their work took both men away from home a great deal of the time, and for years they had been trying, without success, to bring their families together.

Finally, about three weeks ago, a letter arrived from Mr. Cook, inviting all three Steeles to spend the first two weeks of the summer vacation in Oakland, across the bay from 

 Prev. P 4/97 next