By the time they had reached the hotel, the news had spread, and guests and clerks alike came forward with all sorts of offers of help. But somehow they felt at last as if there were nothing to do.
“Did you carry insurance?” asked Mrs. Hart of Marjorie.
“Oh, yes,” replied the latter, “but not nearly enough to cover the cost of a new car. Besides, it takes a good while to get the money; and even if we borrowed it, we’d never secure a new car in time to make the trip on schedule.” She paused a second, evidently making a mighty effort to control herself. “We—we—will have to use the rest of our money to go back by rail.”
“You certainly have had hard luck!” commented the older woman, sympathetically. “I’m awfully sorry.”
“The fates were against us!” sighed Florence, wearily.
“Let’s—let’s go to our rooms again!” whispered Daisy. “I just can’t help crying—”
“All right—we’ll go have a good cry!” assented Lily. “Maybe that will help.”
Laughing and weeping at the same time, the scouts made their way to the second floor, to discuss their plight in view of their most advisable move.
“Anyway, we don’t have to drive across the desert,” remarked Marjorie.
“But what shall we do?” asked Florence.