"'YOU WANT TO BE CAREFUL HOW YOU TREAT THESE ARIZONA GIRLS!'"
Bowles' eyes lighted up with a merry twinkle, but he preserved his poker face.
"Oh, I hope not!" he said; and then both of them smiled very knowingly.
"The reason I wanted to get your name," observed Dixie, sitting down and smoothing out her skirt again, "was in case you got hurt or killed. Who am I going to write to in case you go out like Dunbar? Houghton? Bowles? Or who-all? You know, I feel kind of responsible for you, considering the way you got out here, and——"
"Oh, don't think of that!" protested Bowles, coming over and sitting near her. "If I get hurt, the boys will take care of me; and if I get killed—well, it won't matter then what you do."
"Well, don't get killed," urged Dixie kindly. "And if you get hurt, Mother and I will nurse you back to health and strength."
"Oh, will you?" cried Bowles. "I'll remember that, you may be sure! But, speaking of names, has there been any one in Chula Vista inquiring for Samuel Houghton?"
"Now, you see!" exclaimed Dixie Lee triumphantly. "If you'd opened that letter I had for you, you'd have found out about it. As it is, you'll just have to keep on guessing—I'm mad!"