“Yes, if the stagecoach holds together,” answered Grace smilingly.
“If!” muttered J. Elfreda under her breath.
“But, Grace, suppose a band of bad men hold us up and rob us?” urged Emma apprehensively.
“No danger whatever, my dear. Those days have passed in the great west, as have the savage Apaches of olden time, though the trip will take us over the ground on which they fought many fierce battles. Ah! Here comes Hippy now. How about it, Lieutenant?”
“All set, Brown Eyes. The owner of the stagecoach says he has a new set of wheels that he will put on, as the old ones would not stand up under the load we shall have. Otherwise, the old rattler is good for many a journey over the trail. I think the owner got a good idea from us, and that he will make the Deadwood stagecoach trip a regular attraction for tourists. What do you say, girls?”
“Grace is the one to say,” averred Elfreda. “On our journey out here you will remember that we decided she should be our captain. I may have my doubts about the advisability of the proposed coaching trip, but I will agree to it with a certain mental reservation. Alors! Let’s go!”
“Have you seen the owner of the ponies?” asked Grace, turning to Lieutenant Wingate.
Hippy nodded.
“He doesn’t care what we do, so long as he gets his money.”
“When will the stagecoach be ready?” questioned Grace.