Even their faces had been
smeared with mud when they slipped and had to clutch at any possible
rescue. Naturally, they were not in too amiable a frame of mind for
what awaited them at the end of the trip.
The high spring-seat was the only one, so Barbara had to sit there. "I
simply cannot hold on to this sky-scraper!" complained she testily.
"It's the only one, Bob, so you will _have_ to!" replied Eleanor.
In another moment, Mr. Brewster climbed up easily and sat beside the
strangers. He churked to the horses and drove away in a manner that
threatened to hurl the city girls from their earthly perch into kingdom
come.
"Oh, this is terrible!" groaned Barbara, at an unusually hard bump of
the wagon over a rutty road.
"Maybe we can sit down on the floor of the wagon where the trunks are?"
ventured Eleanor, looking at Mr. Brewster.
"Shore--if you-all want to. The senseless trunks make better company
than a rough old farmer," replied Mr. Brewster, without the least
suspicion of malice in the words.
The exchange was made and the girls felt protected by the trunks, so
they could take a livelier interest in the ride. As they left the road
leading from Oak Creek, the sight of imposing mountains towering in the
distance thrilled them in spite of their determination to dislike
everything they saw. And the gorgeous hues and beauty of the strange
wild-flowers caused exclamations from Eleanor, while Barbara gasped at
the vast herds of cattle, grazing, as they roamed over the plains.
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