CHAPTER XXVI 
AT THE DIAMOND BAR 
Ow Black Canyon, half way up, we camped near the 
home ranch of the Diamond Bar Cattle Company. 
The owner was a wealthy easterner whom ill health 
had driven to this charming exile where he now spent 
the better part of each year from choice. 
True to the traditions of the cattlemen, he kept 
open house for wayfarers. So we were not sur- 
prised upon our arrival to receive a dinner invita- 
tion. We accepted with pleasure—and not till then 
did we learn from one of the cow-punchers that a 
party of six Silver City girls, campers en route to 
the top of the range, were also to attend. This was 
rather perturbing. We had for so long been guilt- 
less of participating in anything remotely approach- 
ing a social function that we were nervous. Our 
available wardrobes, too, were hardly calculated to 
lend distinction to the affair. 
However, there was nothing to do but fix our- 
selves as fetchingly as possible and go. 
Frazer, the camp barber, trimmed each untidy 
shock of hair into a semblance of neatness. Beards 
and moustaches in various styles were removed. 
There was a great spattering of water, a prolonged 
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