“Well, Grandma’ll find out,” Ruth retorted, decidedly, “if I have to dig with the Doctor after prehistoric bones and things.”
Peggie was listening eagerly, the suit of buckskin half slipping from her lap, her chin on her hand.
“I know where there are old bones, great big ones, and they’re not cattle or buffaloes, either. They look like spools joined together.”
“Vertebræ,” Polly suggested. “Where, Peggie?”
“Don and I found them once long ago when we were hunting down in Lost Chance Gully.”
“Wouldn’t it be queer,” Jean said, dreamily, her hands clasped behind her head, “wouldn’t it be queer, girls, if poor old Zed spent his life hunting for gold, and something better than gold lay under his feet. We’ll go over and take a look at it, and then write to your Doctor Man, Polly.”
“Dear me,” exclaimed Ted, in her comical way, “I was just beginning to feel vacationized, and now maybe we’ll be following a mission before we know it, and have to pitch in and work hard digging out old bones seventeen million years old. Polly, you’re always starting something.”
But Polly only laughed.
“What would be the good of starting things if I didn’t have you girls to fall back on when it comes to finishing up,” she said.
“Leave it to Polly to make you feel all comfy and willing,” Sue put in. “Never mind, Polly, we will stick by you even if you take to shaking up Jurassic Beds, won’t we, girls?”