CHAPTER XIII
THE OTHER LADY’S HUSBAND
Miss Knowles did not seem to observe Ashton’s deflection. She remained worshipfully downbent over the wriggling, chuckling baby until its parents reappeared.
Mrs. Blake had changed to an easy and serviceable dress of plain, strong material. The skirt, cut to walking length, showed that her feet and ankles were protected by a pair of absurdly small laced boots. Her husband had shifted to an equally serviceable costume––flannel shirt, broad-brimmed felt hat, and surveyor’s boots.
“Crossing the plains we packed a trunk with what we considered most necessary,” said Mrs. Blake, as she took the baby. “It is not a large one, and in addition there is only my satchel and the level and the lunch my maid is putting up for us.”
“There is room for more, if you wish,” replied Isobel. “But we can send over here for anything you need, any time.”
“You’re not going to let us really rough-it!” complained 149 Mrs. Blake, as her husband swung her to the ground. “Were it not for Thomas Herbert––”
“––We’d go to Africa again and eat lions,” Blake completed the sentence. “Wait, though––we may have a chance at mountain lions.”
The porter had gone to help a manservant fetch the trunk from the other end of the car. Isobel untied the saddle horses from the rear of the buckboard. The trunk was lifted in, and Blake lashed it on, together with his level rod and tripod, using Ashton’s lariat.
“Level is in the trunk,” he explained, in response to Ashton’s look of inquiry. “I suppose we ride.”