This boyish mischievousness, distinctly Arizonian, reached its acme whenever it tended in the direction of our serious leader.
Lawson had been dispatched on some mysterious errand about which my curiosity was all in vain.

The order of the day was leisurely to get in readiness, and pack for our journey to the Siwash on the morrow.

I watered my horse, played with the hounds, knocked about the cliffs, returned to the cabin, and lay down on my bed.

Jim's hands were white with flour.

He was kneading dough, and had several low, flat pans on the table.