After bidding the Bass Guide good-by, the scout-party went to the hotel to wait while Mr. Gilroy sent a few telegrams. When he came back from the desk he held a handful of letters which he waved at Julie.
“Just think of it, Jule! A broken-hearted young Ranger left a whole week without a word from you! Here is a letter for every day since he left Albuquerque—all forwarded from the various towns and left here to accumulate dust for the past four days.”
Every one laughed at Julie’s amazed expression, but it was soon learned that the letters were meant for different members in the party. Two only were for Julie and were postmarked, “Glorieta, New Mexico.”
“Only two, you said,” teased Joan, “but see how thick!”
On the train to Williams, Mr. Gilroy planned to motor the scouts to Ash Fork, thence to take a local train to Montezuma Castle. Castle Hot Springs would be their next destination, and then on to Phoenix where they would follow the plan as at Santa Fé—motor each day to a new point of interest until all had been visited.
They arrived in Williams and were waiting for Mr. Gilroy to see the ticket agent about a touring car, when the agent handed him a telegram. He took it, tore it open, read it, and hurried over to the scouts.
“Say, children, this is the hardest luck of all! I’ve got to leave you and get back home as quickly as possible,” said he.
“Oh, Gilly!” came a chorus of voices in consternation.
“Yes, and the worst of it is that my lawyer has been trying to catch me at towns along the railroad line for the past two weeks. That was about the time we were crossing the Desert. Now I’ve simply got to rush back.”
“Anything serious, Gilly?” asked Mrs. Vernon, deeply concerned.