The Forbidden Trail

The dust storm died down almost as rapidly as it had risen. By four o'clock the three were on their way home across the strange sea of sand. They had reached the home range before Roger said to Charley, "By Jove, you never did show me the Indian writing! What do you mean by such subterfuge? Couldn't you think of any other way to entice a man for a stroll?"

"There were inscriptions all around you!" exclaimed Charley. "You were leaning against the drawing of a horse, all the afternoon. Where were your eyes?"

"That portion of them not blinded by sand was on you, my dear."

"Tut! Tut! Don't try freshman blarney on me, Roger! I'm getting too old for it. Besides one man doesn't blarney another."

Roger looked at Charley quickly. "Hum!" he said, "I'm not at all sure but what you're totally feminine and that I'm a fool."

"Here's the home trail," said Charley. "I hope they haven't worried about us."

Elsa was waiting supper for them and the look of relief on her face as they came in at the door told the story of the day's anxiety.

"Gustav and I have been frantic!" she said. "You poor things! Where did the storm catch you?" Then without waiting for an answer she went on. "We kept the pump going off and on all day. In fact just as steadily as the Lemon would let us, which was not very steadily, you can be sure. But I'm so afraid that the second field is gone. The sand was not so bad this time but the heat was frightful. I don't see how anything green could stand up against those heat blasts. The thermometer here in the adobe was 118° at five o'clock this afternoon."

Charley pulled off her hat and sank into a chair. "Well," she sighed, "why worry! Seems to me I've had all the troubles known to women and I'm not going to let the mere loss of the family fortune ruin an otherwise perfect day."

Elsa looked at the two sharply. But Charley went on serenely. "I've been drowned in sand. I've been bullied and baked and burned, I've been----"

"Good gracious, Els, feed her! She's delirious with hunger!" said Roger.

"Well, of course," exclaimed Elsa, "if the owner of that magnificent alfalfa crop----"

She was interrupted by a cheerful call from Gustav who was in the corral.

"Hello, Dick! Hello! How vas the leg?"

Elsa set the coffee pot hastily on the table. The smile left Charley's face as Dick came slowly over the porch and paused just within the door.

"Well," he said huskily, "the bad egg is back."