Babs nodded. “Yes indeed. Mr. Wallace, ‘Foolish Andy,’ I’ve heard him called, is certainly not prosperous. Dry ranching means trying to get along without water except such as can be caught in a cistern during the rainy season. There’s no water for the few head of cattle they have except in water holes. I guess they’re poor enough all right.”
Betsy stood up clothed, but only partly resigned to the seemingly inevitable. “Virg would rather go on a visit of mercy any time than try to unravel a mystery which shows how different we are,” she confided to her companion as they ran down the trail that led to the corral where the others awaited them with the four ponies saddled and ready.
A small pack-horse near had on its back two saddle bags well packed. “Here you are,” Virg sang out, then noting an expression of disappointment in the face of their youngest, the hostess recalled something. “Oh Betsy,” she said self-rebukingly, “I completely forgot that you were to choose the direction of our ride this afternoon and here I have packed Old Stoic with food and gifts that I want to take to the Wallace family over in Hog Canon. Well, I can unpack him again if you wish me to keep that promise.
“My only reason for wanting to go today is that the children have heard that I am home from school, Slim told them, and they sent word that they’re wild to see me, and Slim said I should have seen poor Mrs. Wallace’s expression when she heard it. He said that it was as though she had heard something that was going to give her a new lease on life.
“But of course one day more won’t matter if you wish to hold me to my promise.”
“I should say not, Virg!” Betsy spoke emphatically. “I was merely going to suggest that we go over to that Puffed Snake Water Hole Mr. Slim told about and see if we could find the gypsy caravan. But it might be a wild-goose chase.” Virginia laughed. “It would be, I can assure you. The odors around that water hole are such that even gypsies wouldn’t linger there long. They are miles and miles away by now.” But Betsy interrupted. “Virg, how can they be? Don’t you recall what the writing on the newspaper said. ‘Stuck for keeps.’ No ranches in sight.”
“Then there’s no use visiting the Puffed Snake Water Hole for one can plainly see Slater’s Ranch from there. Now the question is,” Virg looked from one friend to another, “which way shall we go? Of course we can visit Hog Canon tomorrow and—”
“Indeed not! I’m not as selfish as all that. We’ll visit Hog Canon and your poor family today, then tomorrow we’ll hunt for the gypsy caravan.”
Little did Betsy dream what her decision would lead to.