Betsy acknowledged that she herself was most starved, but added that if Babs had the real detective instinct which she possessed, mere eating would not even be considered when there might be a clew to be had for just a little effort.
The three girls, having turned their unsaddled ponies into the corral, walked arm in arm up to the house. Their youngest had already started on a run toward the mesa trail.
“It’s at least a quarter of a mile back to that cactus,” Virginia said, “so we needn’t expect Betsy for quite a while.”
But to their surprise, ten minutes later, as they were emerging from their rooms, having changed their khaki riding habits for gingham morning dresses, they heard a familiar voice shouting without. Then the front door burst open and a most excited Betsy waved torn fragments of an old newspaper as she cried: “It’s a clew, it is a clew; just listen to this.”
CHAPTER VI
BETSY’S FIND
The girls gathered about Betsy Clossen to gaze eagerly at the torn fragments of newspaper when that excited little maid burst into the ranch living room announcing that she really had found a clew.
“Where is it? I can’t see anything but plain print,” Babs chattered.
“How did you get back so soon?” Virg inquired. “You couldn’t possibly have climbed the mesa trail. You’ve only been gone ten minutes and that would have taken you half an hour.”
Betsy laughed. “I had an ally in another whirl-wind. I hadn’t gone far when I saw torn fragments of the same newspaper that had been caught on the cactus scudding toward me. Then a gust of wind blew sand in my eyes and I had to turn my back. I was afraid that I had lost the flying pieces, but luckily they had caught on a mesquite bush right at my feet. I pounced on them and on the very top I found written—”
Betsy was holding the pieces back of her and just to tease she asked, “Guess what!”