The sky was sun-and-shadow after the rain. Each and every Arizonan predicted clearing.
"Why, it almost never rains in Arizona," said Jed Parker. "And when it does it quits before it begins."
Nevertheless, about noon a thick cloud gathered about the tops of the Galiuros above us. Almost immediately it was dissipated by the wind, but when the peaks again showed, we stared with astonishment to see that they were white with snow. It was as though a magician had passed a sheet before them the brief instant necessary to work his great transformation. Shortly the sky thickened again, and it began to rain.
Travel had been precarious befo