“You're shiverin',” said Dale, suddenly, looking down upon Helen. She felt his big, hard hand clasp hers. “Cold as ice!”
“I am c-cold,” replied Helen. “I guess we're not warmly dressed.”
“Nell, we roasted all day, and now we're freezing,” declared Bo. “I didn't know it was winter at night out here.”
“Miss, haven't you some warm gloves an' a coat?” asked Roy, anxiously. “It 'ain't begun to get cold yet.”
“Nell, we've heavy gloves, riding-suits and boots—all fine and new—in this black bag,” said Bo, enthusiastically kicking a bag at her feet.
“Yes, so we have. But a lot of good they'll do us, to-night,” returned Helen.
“Miss, you'd do well to change right here,” said Roy, earnestly. “It'll save time in the long run an' a lot of sufferin' before sunup.”
Helen stared at the young man, absolutely amazed with his simplicity. She was advised to change her traveling-dress for a riding-suit—out somewhere in a cold, windy desert—in the middle of the night—among strange young men!
“Bo, which bag is it?” asked Dale, as if she were his sister. And when she indicated the one, he picked it up. “Come off the road.”
Bo followed him, and Helen found herself mechanically at their heels. Dale led them a few paces off the road behind some low bushes.