But most of the precious metal was found in tiny nuggets, or in dust, a grain of which seemed no larger than the head of a common pin.
However, although these things were interesting, the minute the cavalcade rode up to the hotel something much more interesting happened. There was a cry of welcome from within and out of the front door charged Jane Ann Hicks, dressed much as she used to be on the ranch—broad sombrero, a short fringed skirt over her riding breeches, high boots with spurs, and a gun slung at her belt.
“For the good land of love!” she demanded, seizing Ruth Fielding as the latter tumbled off her horse. “Where have you girls been? I was just about riding back to that Yucca place to look for you.”
Jennie and Helen came in for a warm welcome, too. Ann was presented to Miss Cullam and the other two girls before explanations were made by anybody. Then Ruth demanded of the Montana girl a full and particular account of what she had done, and why.
“Why, I reckon that Miss Phelps ain’t a friend of yours, after all?” queried Ann. “She’s one frost, if she is.”
“Now you’ve said something, Nita,” said Jennie Stone. “She is a cold proposition. Can you tell us what she’s doing out here?”
“I don’t know. She sure enough comes from that college you girls attend, don’t she?”
“She does!” admitted Helen. “She truly does. But she’s not a sample of what Ardmore puts forth—don’t believe it.”
“I opine she’s not a sample of any product, except orneriness,” scolded Ann, who was a good deal put out by the strange actions of Edith Phelps. “You see how it was. My train was late. According to the telegram I found waiting for me, you folks should have arrived at Yucca hours ahead of me.”
“And we were delayed,” sighed Ruth. “Go on.”