Did you ever notice that the first day of school always is beautiful?
Injun and Whitey's ponies made short work of the nine miles of road that skirted the foothills and led to the Forks, the spirited animals seeming to drink in the bracing morning air that swept down from the mountains as though it were a tonic, which indeed it was.
The Forks was a spot at which a road that led down from the mountains joined the road to the Junction.

The mountain road was little more than a trail, seldom traveled, and almost overgrown with grass, and where it joined the other stood the shack which was used as a schoolhouse.

This shack had been built by some early homeseeker, who had long ago abandoned it to seek other pastures.

It was old and discouraged-looking, and patched in spots with pieces of tin and boards.

As a temple of learning it was not an inviting-looking place.
The pupils evidently had assembled in the shack, for tied in the shelter of some maples near by were four cayuses and two weary-looking mules.
There were eight scholars, as Whitey knew, so he guessed that the mules carried double.