The trio hastened forward. The girls were somewhat tired of riding, for they had already been in the saddle two hours, but this new topic of interest made them forget their weariness for the time.
A light suddenly flashed up on the prairie ahead. “That’s in Bill’s winder,” declared Lance. “Colt and the gal have got thar.”
“Oh, do let’s hurry!” cried Tavia.
In their enthusiasm the girls urged on their little steeds. The ponies quite took the bits away from Dorothy and Tavia during the last half mile of the run, and they tore up to the low, slab-built house at a rattling pace.
There was some disturbance in the house, and the door opened but a crack. The window had already been shuttered.
“Who’s thar?” demanded a falsetto voice.
“It’s Lance, tell ’em, Bill,” called out the cowboy. “Hold back the ceremony a minute. These yere young ladies from the East wants ter stand up with Molly, and if Colt wants a best man, why, I reckon I kin fill the bill. That’ll make a grand, proper weddin’.”
“Come in,” said the falsetto voice. “And bar the door behind yuh. I un’erstan’ this yere is a hasty job. They say Peleg’s on the trail behind ’em.”
Lance was already helping Dorothy and Tavia to dismount. They were as excited as they could be.
“It’s just as though we were being chased by Indians, and this was a blockhouse,” whispered Tavia to her chum.