Esther McLean brought the afternoon mail in to Cunningham. She put it on the desk before him and stood waiting, timidly, afraid to voice her demand for justice, yet too desperately anxious to leave with it unspoken. He leaned back in his swivel chair, his cold eyes challenging her. "Well," he barked harshly. She was a young, soft creature, very pretty in a kittenish fashion, both sensuous and helpless. It was an easy guess that unless fortune stood her friend she was a predestined victim to the world's selfish love of pleasure, and fortune, with a cynical smile, had stood aside and let her go her way. "I . . . I . . ." A wave of color flooded her face. She twisted a rag of a handkerchief into a hard wadded knot. "Spit it out," he ordered curtly. "I've got to do something . . . soon. Won't you-won't you-?" There was a wail of despair in the unfinished sentence. James Cunningham was a grim, gray pirate, as malleable as cast iron and as soft. He was a large, big-boned man, aggressive, dominant, the kind that takes the world by the throat and shakes success from it. The contour of his hook-nosed face had something rapacious written on it. "No. Not till I get good and ready. I've told you I'd look out for you if you'd keep still. Don't come whining at me. I won't have it." "But-" Already he was ripping letters open and glancing over them. Tears brimmed the brown eyes of the girl. She bit her lower lip, choked back a sob, and turned hopelessly away. Her misfortune lay at her own door. She knew that. But- The woe in her heart was that the man she had loved was leaving her to face alone a night as bleak as death. Cunningham had always led a life of intelligent selfishness. He had usually got what he wanted because he was strong enough to take it. No scrupulous nicety of means had ever deterred him. Nor ever would. He played his own hand with a cynical disregard of the rights of others. It was this that had made him what he was, a man who bulked large in the sight of the city and state. Long ago he had made up his mind that altruism was weakness. He went through his mail with a swift, trained eye. One of the letters he laid aside and glanced at a second time. It brought a grim, hard smile to his lips. A paragraph read: There's no water in your ditch and our crops are burning up. Your whole irrigation system in Dry Valley is a fake. You knew it, but we didn't. You've skinned us out of all we had, you damned bloodsucker. If you ever come up here we'll dry-gulch you, sure. The letter was signed, "One You Have Robbed." Attached to it was a clipping from a small-town paper telling of a meeting of farmers to ask the United States District Attorney for an investigation of the Dry Valley irrigation project promoted by James Cunningham. The promoter smiled. He was not afraid of the Government. He had kept strictly within the law. It was not his fault there was not enough rainfall in the watershed to irrigate the valley. But the threat to dry-gulch him was another matter. He had no fancy for being shot in the back. Some crazy fool of a settler might do just that. He decided to let an agent attend to his Dry Valley affairs hereafter. He dictated some letters, closed his desk, and went down the street toward the City Club. At a florist's he stopped and ordered a box of American Beauties to be sent to Miss Phyllis Harriman. With these he enclosed his card, a line of greeting scrawled on it. A poker game was on at the club and Cunningham sat in. He interrupted it to dine, holding his seat by leaving a pile of chips at the place. When he cashed in his winnings and went downstairs it was still early. As a card-player he was not popular. He was too keen on the main chance and he nearly always won. In spite of his loud and frequent laugh, of the effect of bluff geniality, there was no genuine humor in the man, none of the milk of human kindness. A lawyer in the reading-room rose at sight of Cunningham. "Want to see you a minute," he said.
"Most trails are designed just to get the visitor from Point A to Point B. Interpretive trails are designed to help the visitor laugh, cry, smile, discover, understand and explore along the way." - John A Veverka. Interpretive trails - both outdoor and indoor - are used by museums, galleries, historic sites, parks, gardens and zoos worldwide. They can provide visitors with a unique immersion experience in viewing, discovering and enjoying the locations they're visiting, and in helping them re-connect with a natural or cultural environment in a personal way. Yet to be truly effective, there are proven and tested guidelines to follow about how to plan any trail's story, its experience opportunities, and its delivery and physical design. Based on 40 years' interpretive planning experience, The Interpretive Trails Book shares successful planning strategies and guidelines as tools to help create amazing interpretive experiences. For those involved in learning, engagement, interpretation, planning, consultancy, landscape architecture, and training - and those charged with developing interpretive trails who have no specific training in interpretive services themselves, this book will become an indispensable and easy-to-follow resource to help create trails that engage, motivate and inspire visitors.
Covering the Central Corridor Trails (including Bright Angel, South Kaibab, and North Kaibab Trails), which provide spectacular views and are among the most popular routes, this guide has everything potential hikers need to safely navigate the canyon. Over 250 people are rescued from the Inner Canyon each year. Don't become a statistic-read this book! Along with trail descriptions, a comprehensive gear list, rules and restrictions, hiking tips and trip planning ideas, award-winning author Brian J. Lane offers practical advice gleaned from over twenty years of hiking in and around the Grand Canyon and throughout the United States and Canada. Packed with beautiful full-color photos, illustrations, charts, tables and maps, this book is perfect for first time canyon explorers, and was chosen by the IBPA as a Benjamin Franklin Award Winning Finalist in 2008.
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