“That all seems so far away and so long ago, almost like a dream,” Mary replied, as she gazed down at the silver plane which had been left in the care of the old men. They were walking around it now, looking it over with frank curiosity.
Dora tried again. “How I do wish Patsy and Polly were here! Pat, especially, would get a great ‘kick,’ as she’d call it, out of all this excitement.”
“More than I am, no doubt,” Mary confessed. “My imagination is getting wilder and wilder every minute. I’m expecting something awful to happen right here and—what was that?” She jumped and put her hand on her heart.
“Someone knocked on the door.” Dora went to open it. Mrs. Goode, looking anxious in spite of her smile, said, “Don’t you girls want something to eat? It’s almost midnight and you must be hungry.”
“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Goode, I suppose we are hungry. We’re so terribly nervous, I don’t know as we could eat, really.”
“Well, try, dearies. Here’s Washita with a tray.”
Washita was an Indian girl with black, furtive eyes and a red woolen dress. She also had red rags twined in with her long black braids. She carried a tray into the room. Silently, she placed it on a table and glided out. Mary shuddered unconsciously. “Indians give me the ‘shilly-shivers’ as Pat says.”
“Washita is harmless. I’ve had her for two years now. She’s almost the last of a powerful tribe of Apaches which, long ago, had ‘The Dragoons’ for their fortress,” Mrs. Goode was explaining, when Mary begged, “Oh, do tell us what you think the outcome of this raid will be. You know we have three dear friends in the posse.”
Dora thought, “Aha! Harry Hulbert is a dear friend, is he, even before we have met him.”
Mrs. Goode was replying. “I have a husband and two dearly loved sons among those men, but, they must do their duty. The life of a sheriff’s wife is one of constant fear. I am feeling sure, though, that they will all come back soon with their captives. The jail is ready for the bandits. Now I must go back to the office. If you want me, ring the bell. I’ll send Washita up for the tray—”