Joan, watching Tally’s expression, tittered aloud now, and the guide turned to see if she suspected him of guile. She glanced away quickly and looked around over her shoulder at the cavalcade behind. When she could control her voice she spoke.
“And what do you call my pony, and your own, Tally?”
“You’se, Miss Jo, iss call Sweetie; an’ my mule iss name Stick. He’em ack lak’a block of wood, see?” explained Tally, endeavoring to assure Joan of the truth of his statements.
Both the girls laughed merrily.
“Then Jo’s pony must taste like sugar,” declared Julie, “though, goodness knows, I’ve heard that mule-steak is awful!”
“Um-m-m! So dey say,” agreed Tally.
At this moment Mr. Gilroy urged his pony forward to join the guide. Mr. Vernon had told him something he had heard from a man in Kansas City.
“Tally, do you know whether we can get a good view from the peak of Raton Mountain? Some one told Mr. Vernon it wasn’t worth the climb. I believed the Old Santa Fé Trail had been converted to a sky-line drive that runs along the crest of Raton Range for twenty-six miles.”
“Some on he’em man not know better. Mebbe he’em eyes not gude, eh?” chuckled Tally. “Fines’ view in west we get f’om Raton Crest.”
“If you say it’s worth while we’ll go on, because we’ve got all summer before us,” returned Mr. Gilroy.