"Don't say that, Tommy. She isn't lazy, she was born tired," reproved
Bet.
Joy refused the quirt. "Oh, I just couldn't use a whip, Kit. I just couldn't. Dolly's a nice horse and I wouldn't think of hurting her. I think you people are terribly hard-hearted and cruel." And as if Dolly understood just what was being said, she made for the shade of a large tree and stood still, and no amount of coaxing on Joy's part would make her budge.
"She won't do as I tell her, at all," pouted Joy.
"Then maybe you'll accept a quirt now and say 'thank you'," and Kit extended the quirt once more.
"I hate to use it," Joy looked bewildered, but the others were going on and would soon be far ahead. She brought the braided leather down on the side of the horse. Dolly sprang into action, galloped for a few minutes, then settled down to a jog trot. But by this time Joy was getting impatient. Again and again the quirt descended, and for a full minute at a time the horse trotted.
"Why you cruel, hard-hearted girl!" Bet shouted over her shoulder.
"How can you bear to hit that gentle creature?"
Joy wrinkled up her nose at Bet and motioned her to go on.
"Keep up the good work," called Tommy Sharpe. "We'll never get over to Sombrero Butte to-day, if you let Dolly set the pace. I wish I had given you Oso. That's a mean little imp of a burro. But at that I believe he'd have gone faster than Dolly."
"Oh, Tommy, I'd love to ride a burro. Will you let me, truly?" begged
Joy.
"And so do I want to ride a burro, Tommy. I'm always thrilled to pieces when I see the picture of one." Bet had a sudden inspiration. "Let's have a burro party some day and all ride burros. I think that would be fun."