“You surely did all that any one could have done,” agreed Grace. “We might as well go back to camp, as Nora probably is worrying about you. The girls will have coffee for you when you get in.”
“I smell it, an’ it smells mighty good,” exclaimed Ike.
The coffee was ready for them when they arrived, and Anne was down on her knees toasting bread before a bed of coals. All hands immediately sat down before the fire to take refreshment and to discuss their situation.
“Right here, I wish to say to you, my friends, that we should recompense Mr. Fairweather for the loss of his wagon,” declared Grace.
“Don’t want no recompense,” growled the old stagecoach driver.
“Yes!” shouted the girls, and Hippy came along with a deep bass “yes.”
Sudden concern appeared in the face of Emma Dean at this juncture.
“Where is my black silk dress that was in the wagon?” she asked, half fearfully.
“Deep, deep down at the bottom of the canyon,” rumbled Lieutenant Wingate.
Emma uttered a dismal wail.