“But what if the sand storm lasted for hours and we had to stay in the mountain all night, wouldn’t that be another adventure, and if we should hear pumas prowling around the car wishing to devour us, wouldn’t that be a narrow escape?”
Dora laughed. “Do you know, Dick, when I first met you, I thought you were as solemn as an owl. I didn’t dream that you were, I mean, are a humorist.”
“Thanks for not saying clown.” Dick seemed so ridiculously grateful that Dora laughed again.
“You remind me of Harold Lloyd,” she said, “and I hope you think that’s a compliment. He looks through his shell-rimmed glasses just as solemnly as you do when he’s saying the funniest things.”
Instead of replying, Dick peered curiously ahead. “I reckon the ‘another adventure or narrow escape’ is about to happen,” he said in a low voice close to Dora’s ear. “Leastwise our vehicle is slowing to a stop.”
Jerry, making sure that the front wheels were safely wedged against the mountain, turned and inquired, “Dick, can you and Dora hear a roaring noise?”
“Now that the car has stopped rattling, I can,” Dick replied.
“It’s the sand storm, isn’t it?” Dora leaned forward to ask.
“Yes.” Jerry glanced back, troubled. “There are two valley roads forking off just below here. One goes over toward the Chiricahua Mountains where our ranch is, the other toward Gleeson where we have to go to take the girls. Now what I want to say is this. Our road is clear, but the Gleeson road is in the path of the sand storm. Of course, if the wind should change, it might catch us, but I reckon our best chance is to race across the open valley to Bar N ranch. You girls would have to stay all night, but Mother’d like that powerful well. We could telephone to Gleeson so your dad wouldn’t worry.”
Mary, who had been listening with anxious eyes, now put in, “But, Jerry, wouldn’t that sand storm cut down the wires? I’d hate to have Dad anxious if there was any possible way of getting home—”