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Page 11
"Eight here at the corral. Three o'clock." Hi turned his back on
them and walked away to give Grace's directions about the bronco
to one of the wranglers.
"I am going back to the hotel to lie down for an hour," announced
Grace. "Tom, you may go out and do a little shopping for me while
I am resting. Girls," she said, turning to her companions, "I
would suggest that all of you turn in for a beauty sleep. You will
need it, for we shall have a hot, dusty ride between here and the
mountains, which we shall not reach until some time this evening.
If you have any further purchases to make at the general store,
you had better make them now, or let Tom do it for you. We must be
on time at the corral. Mr. Lang probably has timed our departure
to fit certain plans of his own."
The girls said they had completed their purchases, and shortly
after that all were sound asleep, fortifying themselves for the
experiences before them, experiences that were destined to be the
most strenuous that they had ever met with, outside of the battle
front in France.
CHAPTER III
A THRILLING MOMENT
"We are ready, Mr. Lang," greeted Grace Harlowe as she and her
party came up to the corral where the guide was supervising the
saddling of the ponies for the outfit.
The girls now wore the overseas uniforms that they had worn in
their ride over the Old Apache Trail. In addition, a red bandana
handkerchief was twisted about the neck of each Overland Rider, in
true western style, to keep the alkali dust from sifting down
their necks.
All the equipment except mess kits and emergency rations, and a
canteen of water for each, had been sent forward on the burros in
charge of the Chinaman, Ping Wing, whom the Overland girls had not
yet met.
"How is Blackie behaving at present, Mr. Lang?" questioned Grace,
stepping over towards the guide, who was readjusting the cinch-
girth on the little animal.
"Quiet as a kitten after finding a nest of young mice. Better put
your revolver in the saddle holster where it will be handy. That's
where I carry mine. The lieutenant is stowing his now. Never know
when the 'hardware' is going to come in handy on the desert."
A lump of sugar found its way into the black bronco's mouth from
Grace Harlowe's hand, as she petted and talked to the little
fellow. This time his ears were tilted forward, and he stood
motionless while his new master was caressing him. The instant
Grace stepped away, however, the black grew restless. He dragged
the cowboy who was holding him and threatened to break away, nor
was he quieted until Grace herself intervened and, slipping the
bridle rein over her arm and leading the pony, walked over to Tom
Gray.
"No wonder you are successful in managing a husband," observed
Tom. "Even the dumb animals bow to your will."
"Now, Tom," protested Grace laughingly, the color mounting to her
cheeks. "That wasn't a bit nice of you."
"Ready whenever you are, Mrs. Gray," interrupted the voice of Hi
Lang.
Grace turned to her husband, the laughter gone from her face.
"I shall miss you, Tom dear. Write to Yvonne as often as you can,
and to me, but Yvonne needs our letters to keep her from getting
lonely at school. Good-bye and the best of luck, as we used to say
when we were in France."
Grace patted the neck of the black bronco, and Tom assisted her to
the saddle. Blackie began to prance, but, though he threatened to
buck, he did not. Grace finally subdued him and sat waiting for
her companions to mount, all of whom managed the operation
successfully, though Emma Dean was twice nearly unhorsed.
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