“Thank you, folks. You make me right happy, you shore do. What do you reckon on doin’?”
“Let me see. We must be about thirty miles from Roosevelt Lake now,” reflected Grace.
“’Bout three mile short of thet,” nodded Ike.
“Do you think we can pack what stuff we have left on your wagon horses and our ponies?” questioned Grace.
“Reckon so.”
“Of course we don’t care to carry much extra weight on the saddle animals, just light equipment, and if you cannot get through to Roosevelt to-day, we will make camp to-night and ride in to-morrow morning.”
Ike shook his head.
“Nope. I can’t make it in a day, but you folks better ride right on in an’ stay at the Lodge. It’s a good tavern for these parts and it ain’t ever too full to hold some more. I’ll be ’long ’bout eleven o’clock in the mornin’ the day after, an’ make camp for you all there.”
“Thank you. That difficulty is overcome. I propose that we now turn in. Girls, we have time for a beauty sleep before the rising of the sun, when I hope each of you will come out and enjoy the scene with me,” nodded Grace smilingly.
The rest of the night passed without incident, and Ike sounded the getting-up call a few minutes before sun-up. There followed a hurried dressing, some grumbling, and finally much laughter because Emma Dean, in her attempt at haste, got all tangled up in her garments.