noon
A voice greeted him from the upper side of the trail . Ross pushed his cap back and looked up . In the sunshine , his back against a warm rock , his feet buried in the dry loam and pine needles , sat Leslie Jones . He had eaten his dinner and wandered along the trail until he had found a warm spot in which to spend the noon hour . Ross promptly climbed the steep mountainside and dropped down beside him . `` The McKenzies say , '' began Leslie curiously , `` that you do n't stop work long enough to eat and sleep . Yet here you are two miles from home in the middle of the day . ''