“There! I knew we’d find a way out,” exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, sighing.
“Sell your burros here in Gallup and use the saddle-horses from here to St. Michael’s to carry the packs. Once there, you can buy a splendid pack-horse from twenty-five to thirty dollars, see?”
“What! a decent horse as cheap as that?” exclaimed Mr. Vernon.
“Yes, because of supply and demand, you know. Be sure, after you select your pack animals, to bargain for a native guide to go with you through the Desert. Your own Indian may be a crackerjack but it takes an experienced Navajo to locate the rare water-holes for a noon-day or night camp. And water you must have, you know, both for man and beast.”
“That’s sound advice, Mr. Walters, and I’d follow it without demur, but we can’t sell the burros. We rented them,” explained Mr. Gilroy.
“Gilly, your lease says you can leave them at Gallup, if you have done with them, or go on and leave them at some other city, doesn’t it,” demanded Julie, eagerly.
“Just wait a moment, and I’ll get the agreement out of my bag,” said Mr. Gilroy, excusing himself and hurrying away from the dining-room.
After a short absence from the room Mr. Gilroy returned with the paper. “Yes, siree! That was a fine idea, Julie, considering it came from a girl scout. Now I can rid myself of three slow-going wards, by merely leaving them here in Gallup. My contract exacts that I pay the fraction of a month’s hire that I have the animals in use after the first month’s rental. That lets me off great!”
“This is the fourth week since you rented them at Trinidad,” remarked Mr. Vernon.
“Yes, and we paid that month in advance, you know, when we signed that contract. All I will now have to do will be to wire the owner I am through with the three burros and let him send for them according to agreement. Then we can buy the pack-horses of a Navajo and go on our way rejoicing.”