"You and I," he announced with deliberate emphasis, "are to be in Colorado—don't interrupt me—scaling Pike's Peak, strolling through the Garden of the Gods, where we shall probably pluck Olympian bouquets, bowling over the limitless prairies"—this with a grand flourish,—"penetrating into inaccessible cañons"
"And making the acquaintance of Miss Lilian Leslie Lamb," I suggested with a knowing smile. "It's a good idea, old man. Go, with my blessing, and count upon my being with you in spirit."
"No, Dick! I wouldn't give a nickle for your spirit. It's you I must have. Flesh and blood are good enough for me."
"You forget, my dear boy, that my flesh and blood are indispensably necessary to my clients—and also that the railroad companies have an unconquerable propensity to deplete the pocketbooks of flesh-and-blood travellers. Mine is not plethoric."
"Out again," cried John. "We are
