Dipper of Copper Creek [antikvár]

r-' ; I GOLD Rain clouds hung gray-blue and low over the ghost town of Gothic, lying two miles high in the Colorado Rockies. With no more sound than the flight of an owl, they swept over the sunhlackened cabins and loosed their burden, drenching the townsite. Although it was the end of May, the glacial valley was a bowl of snow sitting high in the second range of the Elk Mountains. Two thousand feet below in the town of Crested Butte it was spring. The snow was gone, the flowers were nodding along the roadways. Even the mountain peaks, that stood thirteen and fourteen thousand feet high, were snowless. At those sky scraping heights the alpine sun was like a torch that burned the ice away. Nevertheless, the peaks were cold, and the icy air that surrounded them poured into the valley and held the snow there until early June. The month of May in Gothic town would have