“If you drive, what about your horse?” said Ess, when they came outside, and she noticed Steve’s horse with the saddle still on.
“He’ll follow,” said Steve, easily. “But that reminds me—you ought to have your horse. You’ll miss the fun else. You go and get into riding rig and I’ll bring him in. I’ll tie him back of Blazes’ cart.”
He was into the saddle and off with a rush, and Ess looked at Blazes and laughed ruefully.
“This is the most offhand arrangement I ever met,” she said. “You people seem to expect me to go for a week’s camp as easy as I’d ride down to the gate with you. And what to take and what to leave behind I don’t know a bit.”
“Jest take them things you’ll need,” said Blazes, comfortingly, but vaguely. “Here’s Steve again. He don’t waste time, do he?”
“Now, Blazes, push off,” said Steve, when he had fastened the horse to the tail of the cart with a long leading rope. “And, Miss Lincoln, we’ll get your things.”
Blazes drove off, and the other two walked across to the house.
“Now look here,” said Ess desperately, “you’ll just have to tell me everything I must take.”
“Put on your riding kit,” said Steve. “What you stand in is all you need in the way of clothes, except one change. Dark blouse—water’s scarce, and more like mud than washing water.”
They came to the house, and Steve opened the door and walked in after her.