“What can we do, then?” demanded Dorothy. “Can’t we even telegraph?”
“Now, I’ll fix that for yuh, first of all,” declared the man. “The operator lives at Little’s shack. We’ll rout him out and make him tell your folks on that train that you’ll overtake ’em at Sessions.”
“But how can we?” asked Dorothy.
“Sessions is a junction of this line and the old D. & C. Yuh see, I know this country pretty well. I’m over yere for the Double Chain Outfit right now, shipping cows, and I was startin’ back to-morrer, anyway. I’ll git you ladies ponies, and we’ll start for Killock to-night.”
“Where’s Killock?” asked Dorothy, doubtfully.
The cowboy pointed vaguely across the prairie. “Right over thar—that-a-way,” he said. “It’s on the D. & C. There’s a fast train stops thar at five in the morning. If we make a pretty quick get-away we’ll easy make it in time, and you’ll ketch your folks at Sessions.”
“Oh, that will be jolly!” cried Tavia.
“But, Tavia!” gasped Dorothy. “How can we ride—in these frocks?”
“Side saddle?” queried her chum, doubtfully. “Why not?”
“We’d never be able to hang on,” groaned Dorothy, “without a proper riding habit!”