She was very white when she reached the kitchen after depositing the pitchfork and its burden by the shed. Grateful Mrs. Alec cried and held little David closer when Priscilla, fortified by Hannah’s cider, told the story. Alec, who came in a few minutes later, was grateful, too, in his bluff Scotch way. The snake, he said, was a whopper. He had rarely seen a larger, and Miss Priscilla was a trump—the very bravest tenderfoot he’d ever seen!
She had been true to her heritage, Donald said that evening—worthy to bear the Winthrop coat-of-arms. But then he knew she wasn’t a quitter anyway. He had told her so that very afternoon.
But Priscilla’s honesty was equal to all the demands placed upon it that night. Donald’s praise was but the last straw!
“All the coats-of-arms and family mottoes in the world, Donald,” she said, “couldn’t have made me kill that snake. It was what you said about them, and about me not being a quitter that did it. I 261 think I was a quitter until this afternoon; but now I can go and write Miss Wallace without covering up the top of the paper. I’m going to do it before bed-time, if you’ll excuse me. Good-night!”
CHAPTER XVIII
A GOOD SPORT
“Whew!” sighed Vivian, shifting her position in the saddle for the tenth time in as many minutes, and taking off her broad-brimmed hat to fan her tanned, flushed face. “I think sagebrush must attract the sun. I never was hotter in all my life! I wish now we’d stayed at the Buffalo Horn and waited till after supper to start back. Of course I don’t exactly love riding in the dark, but of the two I’d about as soon be scared to death as baked. Where is the next shady spot, Virginia? I can’t see a tree for miles! I honestly can’t!”
“There aren’t any,” said the comforting Virginia, brushing back the damp rings of hair from her hot forehead, “and the next shady spot is two miles away. The trail bends and there are some quaking-asps by a spring. We’ll rest there, and eat our cookies, and drink some real water. ’Twill be a change from the river.” 263