She worked swiftly and with breathless interest.

When she had finished the flower she began sketching in the moss-covered face of the boulder against which it grew, and other bits of vegetation near.
"I think, Coty," she said, "it is very probable that I can come a few simoleons with you.

You are becoming better looking ever minute." For a touch of color she margined one side of her drawing with a little spray of Pentstemon whose bright tubular flower the canyon knew as "hummingbird's dinner horn." That gave, her the idea of introducing a touch of living interest, so bearing down upon the flowers from the upper right-hand corner of her drawing she deftly sketched in a ruby-throated hummingbird, and across the bottom of the sheet the lace of a few leaves of fern.

Then she returned the drawing and pencil to her knapsack, and making sure of her footing, worked her way forward.

With her long slender fingers she began teasing the plant loose from the rock and the surrounding soil.