Yet, even as she thought this, Bettina was embarrassed and ashamed and, in the gray light of the early morning, she felt her cheeks flushing.
But deny or be ashamed of the fact as she would, nevertheless it was true that Bettina Graham, ever since she was a little girl, had a curious fashion of knowing certain events were to take place before they occurred.
She moved over now to the edge of the bed. Then a faint noise disturbed her.
Turning, she saw that Gerry Williams had also awakened and was half way out of her bed. She could just faintly see her delicate outline—the pretty tumbled light hair and smiling blue eyes.
Bettina made a slight sign to her and began quietly to dress. A few moments later the two girls slipped out and went downstairs and out of doors.
It was not dark now, for daylight was breaking. Guided by a sound they heard, the girls went to the left of the big ranch house. And there, tied to hitching posts, were half a dozen burros with women’s saddles on them; also a pair of little gray mules packed like camels of the desert with great loads hanging from their backs and extending out on either side.
A young man was bending over arranging one of these packs.
He looked up surprised as the two girls came toward him. He was dressed like the usual western cowboy, with the big hat and flannel shirt and his trousers ending inside his riding boots. He must have been about twenty-one.
Gerry smiled at him.
“This must be our caravan. I wonder if I can manage to ride? I never have in my life.”