DENVER AND BEYOND 17 



trickling in tropical fluidity down the sewers, and 

 awoke in that heaven-born air that bathes those 

 western highlands, edging their long slopes up to 

 the Rockies. I did not linger in Denver, for I had 

 been there many times, but, so soon as time and 

 tide served, besought my way for Ogden, for Ogden 

 is the gateway. There you must go, or else a 

 thousand miles southward. Not elsewhere, nor 

 between, can steam break through the mighty 

 ramparts of the Rockies, and, because it holds the 

 key, it sits there at the receipt of custom, and 

 takes toll of all who, being East, would like to be 

 West, or, being West, would like to be East. Out 

 of this remunerative toll that it takes, and out of 

 the thrift of its farmers and irrigators, it has 

 built up a fair city, a city much automobiled be- 

 cause -of its beautiful streets and roads; much 

 resorted because of its thermal springs that cure 

 everything from rheumatism to dipsomania; with 

 one gorgeous cafion whose varied beauties of 

 stream and rocks and foliage would make the 

 fortune of an eastern resort. 



