"Well, maybe we are, but what do we care for a few hundred miles?"
He laughed merrily, showing a set of white, even teeth, and his jollity was so catching that his sister had to join in.
"Well, I suppose it really doesn't make much difference," she said. "We're out for a lark and we've had it, so far. Only I don't seem to fancy sleeping out in the open again to-night. We were lost yesterday, you remember, and didn't make the town we expected to."
Floyd seemed to be waiting for something.
"Well?" he suggested. "Why don't you add that it was all my fault."
"I was going to leave that out," Rosemary said.
"But I'll admit it," acknowledged her brother. "I did pull a bloomer, as an Englishman would say, and I don't intend to do it again to-day. I admit I shouldn't have tried to do more than a day's trip yesterday. If I had taken your advice and stayed in the town where there was at least an apology for a hotel, you'd have had a better night's sleep."
"Well, I didn't mind being out in the open so much, after I got used to the howling of those wolves," Rosemary remarked.
"Coyotes—coyotes—not wolves, though they're off the same piece of goods," corrected Floyd.
"Well, never mind the lesson in natural history," laughed Rosemary. "The point at issue is that I don't like the sort of country we're getting into. It doesn't look to me as though this could ever lead us to Uncle Henry's ranch, and I'm anxious to get there. Bud's mother wrote that he and his cousins, Nort and Dick, had such exciting times, that I'm anxious to join them."