Now, Barry," continued his father, "this is our last day together for some months, perhaps forever," he added in a low tone.
"Don't, daddy, don't," cried Barry, "I can't bear to think of that to-day." "All right, Barry, but why not?
It is really far better that we should face all the possibilities.

But now that we have this day--and what a perfect day it is--for our last day together, what shall we do with it ?" "I know, dad--I think you would wish that we take our ride into the foothills to-day." "It was in my mind, my boy.

I hesitated to suggest it.

So let us go." It was one of those rare November days that only Alberta knows, mellow with the warm sun, and yet with a nip in it that suggested the coming frost, without a ripple of the wind that almost constantly sweeps the Alberta ranges.

In the blue sky hung motionless, like white ships at sea, bits of cloud.