He did not believe they would smell the smoke.
Darn it all, he had the wrong magazine! He half rose, meaning to scurry back and get the one he wanted; but it was too late now.

He heard the pebbles knocked loose where the faint trail dipped down over the knob directly behind the station.

So he settled back with his pipe for solace, and scowled down at the world, and waited for the darn tourists to go.
But this particular darn tourist had two reasons for lingering up there.

Her first and greatest reason was a sheer delight in the panorama spread below and all around her, and the desire to saturate her soul with the beauty of it, her lungs with the keen elixir of the wind, heady with the eight thousand feet of altitude.

Her second reason was a perverse desire to show Kate that she was not to be bossed around like a kid, and dictated to and advised and lectured whenever she wanted to do something which Kate did not want to do.
Why, for instance, should she miss the pleasure of climbing to the very top of the peak just because Kate began to puff before they were half way up, and wanted to turn back?
Of course, she would do anything in the world for Kate; but that was no reason why Kate should be selfish about little things.