“Benoni, come!”
The horse stopped feeding and looked at them earnestly, as if in his mute way he were asking to go back to his pleasant corral; they shook their heads, decidedly:
“No, no, good boy! Not till we find your master. Then we’ll all go home together.”
Then he stood very quiet while they mounted him. All his dash and spirit had departed, and he was as grave as if the whole responsibility of the situation rested upon him.
“The dear Benoni! He looks as if he feared we’d get into more trouble. He’s such a wise darling!” exclaimed Carlota.
“There goes another of a girl’s imaginings. I wouldn’t be a girl for—for anything!”
“I like being a girl, so that’s right for both of us. Which way?”
“North, of course. The compass tells. Wasn’t that the way we started?”
“Yes. But I thought, maybe, the storm—there’s nice mountains over yonder,” suggested the sister.
“Well, maybe, they’re far enough north. We’ll go to them. They do look as if they’d be cooler, and in mountains there are always canyons and holes to sleep in. I wouldn’t mind sleeping on this mesa if it hadn’t been for that ‘norther.’ If another should come.”