“But, brother, we mustn’t drink him while he’s warm,” warned Carlota.
“I shan’t drink him warm or cold, silly child! But now we’ve thought of it, aren’t you dreadful thirsty?”
“Terr’ble. If it’s there, I’ll fill my tin box with the water when we go on again.”
“Maybe we won’t go any further to-day. I wonder how far we are from Refugio!”
The boy regretted his words as soon as uttered, for his sister turned and looked backward over the sun-beaten plain in such a homesick way it made his heart ache. His head also began to ache and he made Benoni take a right-angle course to that they had been following. The trees were directly in their line of vision now, and Carlota cried:
“Oh! they’re only a little bit off now!”
He was wiser in plain-lore and answered:
“They may be ten miles. The air’s so clear one can’t tell.”
“Oh, brother! Why, they look as if I could almost touch them!”
“I know that, dear! If it weren’t so—awful—hot!”