“I, for one, already have accepted, in my own mind,” nodded the general’s wife.
“Having lost our wagon with most of our table ware, we cannot offer you any luxuries. We have only our mess kits, and the plates in them will barely go around. It may be necessary for two persons to eat from the same plate,” added Grace mischievously.
“May we sleep at the camp to-night? I should so dearly love to sleep in a tent in the open,” declared Miss Cartwright.
“I fear it will be too cold for you. We will speak of it later, however. After you have spent a few hours in camp and partaken of our fare, you may not wish to remain over night.”
“Of course you are desirous of visiting the ancient homes of the cliff dwellers up yonder?” questioned Mrs. Gordon, pointing to the mountains.
“Yes, indeed. I hope to do some exploring there, too,” answered Grace. “When we land at the Lodge, if you good people will wait on the veranda for me, I will run over to the camp and see what shape we are in, then call for you later,” suggested Grace as they neared the landing place.
Grace and Hippy left their party at the Lodge pier and hurried to the camp.
“We are to have company for mess this evening, Mr. Fairweather. How well are we supplied with provisions?” she asked.
The old stagecoach driver said they had bacon, canned beans and coffee, but not much of anything else.
“See if you can purchase something more at the Lodge, especially potatoes. Did you find an Indian here taking care of the ponies?”