“And well they may be,” remarked Mrs. Van Zandt, heartily.
“She says the directors have met but didn’t do anything.”
“That sounds natural,” said Hard. “They’ve been doing that for the last three years.”
“Trying to figure out which costs less; to give up the property, or to pay us our salaries to hold it down,” chuckled Scott.
“She says I am to come home at once,” continued Polly, “but that I am not to try to travel alone. Either Mr. Scott or Mr. Hard is to go with me to the border.”
“I’m glad somebody in your family has got good sense,” said Scott, grimly. “It’s a pity those things aren’t hereditary.”
“Thank you. I think I prefer to have Mr. Hard go.”
Hard bowed solemnly. “Bob coming back?” he asked.
“As soon as they’ll let him,” said Bob’s sister, promptly.
“Yes, he likes a scrap,” remarked Scott. “I hope they keep the papers away from him this next week. Well, it’s lucky for you, Miss Polly, that we’ve got Pachuca’s car. Traveling on these railroads is bad enough at any time, but with a brand new revolution on hand, it’ll be the deuce.”