Single file the four mounted girls rode down the trail which led across the dry creek bottom for a time and then ascended the rather steep opposite bank. The fifth horse “Old Stoic” followed faithfully. When they were again on the level trail, Virg in the lead, smiled over her shoulder. Betsy just back of her was evidently deep in thought.
“What are you puzzling about now, little mystery solver?” she sang out gaily.
Betsy looked up brightly. “I’m trying to solve three things at once.”
Babs and Megsy rode up, and, as the sand was hard enough to permit, they continued in a group which was better for conversation.
“What are they? And how are you succeeding?” Each maid asked a question.
Betsy laughed. “I’m wondering what Puffed Snakes are. I’ve heard of rattlers and copper heads and—and water snakes, but never Puffed ones.”
“Guess!” Virg turned to say.
“I don’t have to guess because I know.” Margaret smiled at Betsy. “Use that good brain of yours. It’s ever so easy. It isn’t the kind of snake. It’s something that happens to it.”
“Hm. Let me see. It’s the name of a water hole with a dreadful odor.” Betsy seemed to be thinking hard. Suddenly she laughed. “Oh, of course, that’s easy! A snake fell into the water hole, couldn’t get out and puffed.”
“Righto!” Virg had whirled her pony and to the great admiration of the other girls, was riding backwards.