But Hubbard is a right peart little place, with a bank, two stores,
three churches, an' nigh on to two hundred people. Are you wrapped up
well, Mr. Mason, 'cause it's goin' to be cold on the mountains?"
Dick wore heavy boots, and a long, heavy military coat which fell below
his knees and which also had a high collar protecting his ears. He
was provided also with heavy buckskin gloves. The sergeant was clad
similarly.
"I think I'm clothed against any amount of cold," he replied.
"Well, you need to be," said Petty, "'cause the pass through which we're
goin' is at least fifteen hundred feet above Townsville--that's our
village--an' I reckon it's just 'bout as high over Hubbard. Them
fifteen hundred feet make a pow'ful difference in climate, as you'll
soon find out. It's not only colder thar, but the winds are always
blowin' hard through the pass. Jest look back at Townsville. Ain't she
fine an' neat down thar in the valley, beside that clear creek which
higher up in the mountains is full of the juiciest an' sweetest trout
that man ever stuck a tooth into."
Dick saw that Petty was talkative, but he did not mind. In fact,
both he and Whitley liked the man's joyous and unbroken run of chatter.
He turned in his saddle and looked back, following the stout man's
pointing finger. Townsville, though but a little mountain town built
mainly of logs, was indeed a jewel, softened and with a silver sheen
thrown over it by the mountain air which was misty that morning.
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