There were tears of gratitude in the eyes of the frail woman. “I don’t understand why it is,” she said, “but now that you are here, Miss Virgie, I feel confident that all will be well, somehow.”
They were out in the plateau-like dooryard and each girl had a horse by the bridle which was lucky when a deafening report like thunder boomed through the mountains.
“W-what was that?” Betsy cried in alarm, but Mrs. Wallace at once quieted their fears, for it was a sound she had often heard. “It’s my Peter dynamiting for water,” she said sadly. “But he won’t find it. He never has.” But little Peter whose eyes had been afire with enthusiasm had raced toward the canon bed and was seen waving and beckoning frantically. “Ma,” he shouted, “I hear it. I’m as sure as anything that I hear water.”
The girls listened and far up in the canon they heard a rushing sound that came nearer and nearer, then they heard something else. A shout of triumph, then a man and boy appeared and in the face of the inventor was light, an inner radiance of great joy.
He seemed to see no one but the wife he loved. Going straight toward her, with arms outstretched, he cried, “Molly, Molly, little girl! We’ve succeeded at last, you and I! Thank God your days of privation are over.” Then turning to the lad he said, “But I can’t call it all my invention. It was your thought that perfected it. I’ll share with you.” But the boy exclaimed, “Mr. Wallace, you alone are the inventor of that instrument. It would have been only a matter of time before you thought to make the slight change that I suggested.”
Then, although it seemed as though they just must stay to rejoice with their friends, Virginia was reminded by the lowness of the sun that she must start on the homeward way.
Annette and Gordon decided to remain in their present camp until the morrow. Then, although they would like nothing better than to visit V. M., the lad decided that he did not care to chance being stuck again in the sand and so he accepted Virginia’s advice that he start out for Slater’s Ranch early the next day.
“Mr. Slater is the richest man on the desert. You will have no trouble reaching his place,” the girl assured him, “and from there into town is one of the best roads anywhere to be found as he keeps it up himself, or rather he has the peons in his employ constantly working on it.” Then, holding out her hand to Annette, Virg said, “If your father is not ready to return East, we shall be glad to have you and Gordon visit us. If you will send us word, we will come for you in our car.”
Two hours later, when the girls were dismounting near the corral at V. M., Betsy said, “Well, wasn’t that all just like a story book adventure?” Then going to the pack horse, she patted him as she laughingly said, “And, although he doesn’t know it, Old Stoic was the hero.”