It was late Spring in the valley of the Chinook. The hills were already covered with luxuriant bunch-grass, and the clumps of cottonwood along the Chinook River had leafed to a sparkling green against the dark blue and green of the balsam, fir and pine. Winding through a V-notched gash in the mountains was the road which led from the town of Pasiooks, through Poncho Pass to Tarp City. This road was barely wide enough for one wagon, and its builders had followed the lines of least resistance in its making.…
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