"The turnpike through Imperial Valley, said to be the richest bit of land in all the world, not excepting the famous Nile banks of Egypt. There is no railway there yet, but the Valley is settling very fast, and Haggerty says—"
"How remarkable!" exclaimed the Major, gazing straight ahead. And again Mumbles, curled in Patsy's lap, lifted his shaggy head and gave a wailing bark.
Uncle John frowned, but was loyal to Haggerty.
"He says that if America was now unknown to all the countries of the world, Imperial would soon make it famous. They grow wonderful crops there—strawberries and melons the year around, as well as all the tropical and semi-tropical fruits and grains, flowers and vines known to any country yet discovered."
"Do we go to Imperial?" asked Myrtle, eagerly.
"I think not, my dear; we just skirt the edge of the Valley. It's rather wild and primitive there yet; for although many settlers are flocking to that favored district Imperial is large enough to be an empire by itself. However, we shall find an ideal climate at Coronado, by the edge of the blue Pacific, and there and at Los Angeles we shall rest from our journey and get acquainted with the wonders of the Golden State. Has the trip tired you, girls?"
"Not me," answered Beth, promptly. "I've enjoyed every mile of the way."
"And so have I," added Patsy; "except perhaps the adventure with the remittance men. But I wouldn't care to have missed even that, for it led to our acquaintance with old Dan'l."
"For my part," said Myrtle softly, "I've been in a real fairyland. It has seemed like a dream to me, all this glorious journey, and I shall hate to wake up, as I must in time."
"Don't worry just yet about the awakening, dear," returned Patsy, leaning over to kiss her little friend. "Just enjoy it while you can. If fairylands exist, they were made for just such as you, Myrtle."