Betsy, unused to sleeping during the day, had decided to take that time for letter writing. She was wild to tell her Cousin Bob, who was fourteen, of all the exciting things which had befallen her since her departure from boarding school such a very short time before.
How he would envy her. Virg had suggested that she write at the big old desk which stood on the shady side of the long living room and there, for a quiet hour the little girl sat scribbling as fast as her pencil would fly and the story of her adventures was so thrillingly told that the boy, who was to receive it, would indeed be envious. She had just concluded with—“Virg hasn’t any idea where I am going to suggest that we go for our ride when she wakes up, but of course she’ll have to go because she has promised. I’m ever and ever so sure that an exciting adventure awaits us and I’ll add it to this letter before I send it. There’ll be plenty of time, anyway, for the mail pouch is only taken to the station about twice a week.”
It was at this point in the epistle that the three girls, who had been asleep, appeared and they were dressed in their riding habits.
“You’ll have to don yours, Betsy,” Babs called. “I’ll wait for you. Virg and Megsy are going down to the corral to saddle our horses.”
While the young would-be detective was changing her apparel, Babs sat on the arm of a chair watching her. “Virg has forgotten all about her promise to you,” she volunteered. “I heard her tell Margaret that she wanted to ride over to Hog Canon and see the poor dry ranchers who live there. She has brought some gifts for the three children and their mother.”
“Oh dear, isn’t that just too provoking. I did so want to ride in the direction of that Puffed Snake Water Hole and see if we could find the gypsy caravan, but, of course, if our hostess has other plans, I suppose I’ll have to give up mine, only I don’t think she should have promised. Honestly I don’t.”
Babs hardly knew what to say. “But dear, you can visit that water hole some other time, maybe tomorrow. Wouldn’t that do as well?”
“Why, of course not Babs. You know as well as I do that if we are to get there before that gypsy caravan moves on, we’ll have to go today. They’re not going to just camp out there and wait to be found.”
“Well, you’ll have to be the one to remind Virg of her promise. I won’t. I heard her say that the little woman who lives over in Hog Canon is very frail and that she has brought her some things that she needs just dreadfully.”
Betsy sighed as she laced the riding boots that Virg had loaned her, but all she said was “What’s a dry rancher anyway? Someone who’s awfully poor I judge.”