"Volador's going very lame," he said. "It would be cruelty to drive him much farther."
Alison was conscious of a shock of dismay. Sitting in the wagon on the crest of the rise she could look down across the birches upon a vast sweep of prairie, and there was no sign of a house anywhere on it. It almost seemed as if she must spend the night in the bluff.
"What is to be done?" she asked.
"Can you ride?"
Alison said she had never tried, and the man's expression hinted that the expedient he had suggested was out of the question.
"Do you think you could walk sixteen miles?" he asked.
"I'm afraid I couldn't," Alison confessed, though if the feat had appeared within her powers she would gladly have attempted it.
"Then you'll have to camp here in the wagon, though I can fix it up quite comfortably."
He held up his hand.
"You may as well get down, and we'll set about making supper."