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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Grace Harlowe's Overland

Riders on the Old Apache Trail

 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other
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Title: Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders on the Old Apache Trail

Author: Josephine Chase

Release date: October 1, 2015 [eBook #50105]

Most recently updated: October 22, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rick Morris and the Online

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRACE HARLOWE'S OVERLAND

RIDERS ON THE OLD APACHE TRAIL ***
Grace Harlowe’s Overland
Riders on the Old
Apache Trail
 Grace Harlowe’s Overland Riders.
Frontispiece.
 Grace Harlowe’s Overland
Riders on the Old
Apache Trail

By
JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A.M.
Author of The Grace Harlowe High School Series, The Grace Harlowe College Girls Series,
Grace Harlowe’s Problem, Grace Harlowe’s Golden Summer, Grace Harlowe Overseas, Grace
Harlowe with the Red Cross in France, Grace Harlowe with the U. S. Troops in the Argonne,
Grace Harlowe with the Marines at Chateau Thierry, Grace Harlowe with the Yankee Shock
Boys at St. Quentin, Grace Harlowe with the American Army on the Rhine, etc., etc.

Illustrated

P H I L A D E L P H I A
HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY
Copyrighted, 1921, by
Howard E. Altemus
 CONTENTS
PAGE

Chapter I—The Call of the Wild 11

The Overton girls plan for a summer outing in the saddle.
Hippy has a dark secret. “No weak lemonade trips for
me,” declares Emma Dean. A proposal that is both
interesting and alarming. Old friends reunited. A journey
toward the setting sun.

Chapter II—On the Overland Coach 25

Grace Harlowe’s discovery. Overton girls vote for a night
ride on the old Deadwood stagecoach. “Play tricks on us
and you will be sorry.” Off for a novel ride. Inside
passengers register a violent protest. The coach
threatens to fall to pieces.

Chapter III—A Thrilling Halt 41

Hippy takes a new kind of “sideslip.” Grace hears of the
savage Apaches. Ike Fairweather is amazed. Elfreda
issues a solemn warning. “Something is going on here!”
exclaims Grace Harlowe under her breath. “All out, and
keep your hands up!”

Chapter IV—The Battle with the Bandits 52

Highwaymen and Overton girls in a pitched battle. “The
cowards!” cries Grace Harlowe. Bandits discover their
mistake too late. Wounded and defeated, outlaws of the
 Apache Trail throw away their weapons. Disaster
overtakes the Overton girls.

Chapter V—Wanted by the Sheriff 63

The Deadwood stagecoach goes over a precipice and is
lost. Ike Fairweather’s rage beyond the power of words to
express. Grace gives her prisoners a stern warning. A
grilling journey on foot. A notorious bandit leader among
the captives.

Chapter VI—A Shot Well Placed 74

Ike Fairweather joins the Overton party. Riders of the Old
Apache Trail. Lieutenant Wingate comes a cropper. A
succession of spills. The first night in camp. Hippy’s
oratory is checked by a bullet. “Put out the campfire!”
commands Grace Harlowe.

Chapter VII—A Lively Night in Camp 84

The first casualty. A mysterious shot. The Overton camp
is put under guard. Rifle shots alarm the campers. A
silence “heavy with significance.” Ike Fairweather wings a
night prowler. Grace makes a startling discovery. “The
ponies have gone, Mr. Fairweather!”

Chapter VIII—Hippy Calls to Arms 94

Aroused by a low-spoken warning. Hurried preparations
are made to defend the camp. The battle opened with a
thrilling Indian war whoop. “Steady, girls! We’re going to
catch it!” Strategy that bore fruit. “We have ’em on the
run!” cries Hippy.
Chapter IX—A Startling Discovery 101
Attackers lose heavily. Indians or white men—which? The
Overton girls enjoy a real picnic. Emma Dean is missing.
“Elfreda, get a rifle and come with me!” directs Grace
Harlowe incisively. “Something serious surely has
happened to Emma.”

Chapter X—A Double Capture 110

Grace picks up the trail. The search continued deep into a
somber canyon. Signal shots are fired. A human voice
sounds close at hand. “Grace! Oh, Grace! Save me!” wails
Emma Dean. Overton girls in the hands of mountain
outlaws.

Chapter XI—Following a Cold Trail 123

“I tell you I heard Grace’s signal shots!” Lieutenant
Wingate fails to find a trace of the missing ones. Ike
noses out the trail. “Right here’s where they took to their
ponies.” A weird night journey. The guide confesses
himself beaten.

Chapter XII—An Interrupted Interview 131

Threats fail to disturb Grace Harlowe. A bandit’s wife
demands to know why Grace shot Con Bates. “I’m goin’
to see thet you settle for thet little job.” Belle Bates meets
her match. “Drop thet gun, an’ do it quick!” commands a
stern voice behind Grace Harlowe.

Chapter XIII—A Struggle for Life 138

 A case of shoot or be shot. “Run, Emma! Run!” A battle of
give and take. Grace gets a bullet wound. A dash for
freedom. The escape. Grace makes the best of a serious
situation. A blood-chilling wail of agony sounds close at
hand.

Chapter XIV—A Night of Terror 150

“There it goes again!” Emma Dean gives way to her fears
as the wild, haunting wail is repeated. Two yellow eyes in
the dark. Grace fires a telling shot. Alarmed by signal
shots in the canyon. The two Overton girls witness a
spirited battle.

Chapter XV—Ike Distinguishes Himself 160

The end of a grilling hike. Western Jones wings the
bandits. Elfreda Briggs sews up Grace Harlowe’s wound.
The operation proves to be more than Ike and Emma can
stand. “Next time I shore’ll look t’other way,” avers the
old stagecoach driver.

Chapter XVI—A Glimpse into Fairyland 166

Overton girls mess in the weird forest of Sahuaro. The
outfit selects a new name for itself. Lieutenant Wingate’s
speech rudely interrupted. The wonders of the Apache
Mountains are unfolded before the Overland Riders.
Hippy’s chest swells with pride.

Chapter XVII—Going to Bed in the Clouds 175

Lieutenant Wingate loses his hat, and Ike Fairweather has
a narrow escape. Grace decides to explore the ancient
cliff dwellings. Being above the clouds gives the Overland
 Riders a new thrill. An alarm arouses Grace at dead of
night.

Chapter XVIII—The Hardest Blow of All 186

A jar and a crash. “Some one has run our wagon off the
trail into the canyon!” gasps Grace Harlowe. Hippy and
the bandits battle in a cloud. Grace takes a hand. Emma
Dean bewails the loss of her black silk skirt. Horses and
riders are now obliged to carry the Overlanders’
equipment.

Chapter XIX—Heroines of the Trail 198

The arrival at Roosevelt Dam. Grace Harlowe meets an
old friend from the front. The fame of the Overland
Riders has preceded them. An Apache Indian engaged to
care for the ponies. An evening of real enjoyment at the
mountain inn.

Chapter XX—The Mysterious Arrow 205

Picnicking by the blue waters of Lake Roosevelt. “The end
of a perfect day!” Guests entertained at the Overland
Riders’ camp. Food, to Hippy, of greater moment than
mere Indians. The army spirit of freedom. A barbed
messenger drops into the camp of the Overlanders.

Chapter XXI—A Night of Thrills 217

A warning of trouble to come. The storm breaks. “I think
we are going to catch it,” mutters Grace Harlowe. Tents
wrecked by the gale. The Overland camp is swept by
 bullets from the mountains. Tea and crackers replace
storm and bullets. Guests have an exciting time.

Chapter XXII—Relics of an Ancient Race 228

A picnic in the home of the Cliff Dwellers. A guest faints
on the brink of the chasm. Grace prepares for her daring
descent. General Gordon protests. “Hold fast to the rope!”
All being ready, Grace Harlowe goes over the edge of the
precipice, a smile on her face.

Chapter XXIII—Between Earth and Sky 236

A dizzy descent through space. “Harlowe luck is with me!”
Grace explores the ancient community house. The
mustiness of centuries is on the air. “That smells like a
dead fire!” Grace Harlowe is startled by a human groan.
The discovery.

Chapter XXIV—Grace Solves the Mountain Mystery 242

“Joe Smoky Face! What does this mean?” demands
Grace. In the bandits’ lair. A lonely vigil on the mountain.
Grace traps the bandits. “That is what I call good
shooting,” declares Grace Harlowe. Overland Riders at the
journey’s end.
 GRACE HARLOWE’S OVERLAND
RIDERS ON THE OLD APACHE TRAIL
 CHAPTER I

THE CALL OF THE WILD

“I HAVE asked you to visit me for a twofold reason,” announced

Grace Harlowe to her friends of the Overton Unit. “In other
words, I have a vacation proposal to make to you.”

“Which, translated into plain English, means that you wish to lead
us into new fields of adventure,” interjected Emma Dean.

“Perhaps,” smiled Grace.

“I suspected as much when I received your invitation to come

here,” nodded Elfreda Briggs.

“Curiosity has taken full possession of me, Grace. What is the big
idea?” urged Anne Nesbit eagerly.

“So far as I am concerned, no plans have been made,” replied

Grace. “The original suggestion may have been mine—that is, the
suggestion that we get together for a real outing. From that nucleus,
Hippy says he has worked out a plan that promises entertainment,
health and adventure for the jaded Overton girls after their
strenuous war service. Hippy and Nora will be here in a few
moments. He will tell you all about it.”

“Dark mystery,” murmured Emma.

“Let me ask you girls something,” resumed Grace. “Since we

returned from France, where we all did our bit, has each of you been
perfectly contented with the simple life, well content to remain at
home without feeling one little moment’s yearning to see something
stirring? Search your innermost consciousness and tell me what you
find there in answer to my question.”

For a moment no one essayed an answer; then Elfreda spoke up.

“To be frank with you, Loyalheart, I have been perfectly

miserable,” declared Miss Briggs thoughtfully.

Grace nodded and smiled.

“In France, amid the activity and excitement of war, not to speak
of the peril, I was positive that once out of it, once back in my
peaceful home, I never again should feel the slightest inclination to
wander,” continued Elfreda. “For a few months, following my return
from the war zone, I really was contented, delightfully so, luxuriously
so, I might say, for I was ‘living the lazy life of Reilley,’ as the
doughboys say.

“Well, finally I awakened from my dream. I was restless, ill at

ease. While away to war my law practice of course had gone to
smash. It had not met me at the train upon my return, either, and
the way I felt I didn’t care; but upon awakening I realized that what
I needed was activity. However, the sort of activity that my particular
ailment demanded was not at hand, and I was on the verge of doing
something desperate when your letter came asking me to join our
friends at your home to talk over a vacation trip. Grace Harlowe, you
are a life saver. That is the honest-to-goodness truth and the whole
truth,” finished Elfreda amid laughter.

“That is what I say, or rather what I probably should have said

had I the eloquence of our legal friend, Elfreda Briggs,” bubbled
Emma. “Give me excitement or I die!”

Grace glanced at Anne, who nodded and smiled.

 “I follow where you lead, Loyalheart,” said Anne. “Too bad that the
rest of the Unit are unable to be with us, but those not otherwise
engaged are mostly roaming over the face of the earth, just as we
are proposing to do. By the way, what are we to do—where are we
to go and how?”

“We are all suffering a reaction from the war, but a strenuous few
weeks in the open surely will settle us down,” said Grace. “There
come Hippy and Nora. Now you will know all about it,” she added,
stepping to the veranda to greet the newcomers. “Welcome, Nora
Wingate. How are you, Lieutenant?”

“All present or accounted for,” answered Hippy jovially. “Happy to

meet you, ladies,” he greeted, bowing profoundly as he entered the
house. “I haven’t been so pleased over anything since I downed my
first Boche plane in France. There, there, Nora darling, don’t
monopolize the girls. Give your hero husband a chance. I take it that
you are to join out with us in our big mid-summer vacation?”
questioned Hippy, addressing himself to Emma Dean.

“Are you going to lead the party?” demanded Emma.

“I may have that honor.” Hippy bowed humbly.

“Count me out!” emphasized Emma.

“No, no, no,” protested Anne and Elfreda laughingly.

“Before jumping at conclusions perhaps it would be as well for us

to listen to Lieutenant Wingate’s plan,” suggested Grace, rising.
“Dinner is being served. Come! We can talk while we eat,” she
added, leading the way to the dining room whose windows
overlooked the sloping green lawns of Grace Harlowe’s much-loved
home.

Elfreda, Anne and Emma had, within the hour, arrived at Haven
Home where Grace had been living quietly and restfully since her
return from France, in which country she and her friends of the
Overton Unit had been serving with the Red Cross during the closing
year of the war.

Grace’s husband, Captain Tom Gray, was still in Russia where he

had been sent from France on a military mission, and Yvonne, her
adopted daughter, was a pupil in a private school in New England, so
she felt free to invite the girls of her Unit to join with her in a
summer’s outing that would offer both recreation and adventure.

Anne Nesbit, Elfreda Briggs and Emma Dean were the only
members of the Unit who had not already made their plans for the
summer.

While Grace would have been pleased to have all the girls of the
Overton Unit join in her proposed outing, she was just as well
pleased that her invitation had not been more generally accepted.
The present party was of about the right size, as she reasoned it.
Then again, the members of the party had been close associates for
many years; they had shared their girlhood joys and sorrows; they
had suffered together in those desperate days in France when it
seemed to them that the very universe were rending itself asunder,
and from all this had been born a better understanding of each other
and a greater love and respect.

It was, therefore, a happy gathering that sat down to dinner in

Grace Harlowe’s Oakdale home on that balmy mid-summer
afternoon. For a time there was chatter and laughter, the reviving of
old college and war memories, intermingled with occasional chaffing
of Hippy Wingate, always a shining mark for the Overton girls’
teasing.

“Girls,” finally announced Grace, “Hippy has a dark secret locked in

his heart, to be brought to light only when we girls are present.”

“I could see the moment he came in that he had,” interrupted

Elfreda. “Hippy always was a poor dissembler.”
 “Yes, that’s what Nora says,” replied Hippy sheepishly.

“I believe that you girls are not all aware of the fact that Hippy is
now a man of affairs,” resumed Grace. “Therefore, his words must
be given weight accordingly. Hippy, being too modest to tell you
about it himself, I would have you all know that, upon his return
from the war, he found himself a rich man, following the death of a
wealthy uncle who was so proud of our Flying Lieutenant’s great
achievements in the war that he left Hippy all his worldly
possessions. Our Hippy, it is rumored, is now lying awake nights
trying to devise new ways to spend his fortune.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” protested Hippy Wingate, with a

disapproving shake of the head. “What I really am trying to figure
out is how not to spend it—that is, not all at once. Of course, so far
as my dear friends are concerned, that is another matter,” added
Hippy quite seriously.

“My ancestors originated in Missouri. You will have to

demonstrate,” observed Emma Dean amid much laughter.

“What we are at the moment most interested in is the dark secret.

You have something to say to us,” reminded Miss Briggs.

“Yes, Hippy, do not keep us in suspense,” urged Grace.

“Go on, darling. They will walk out and leave you if you don’t start
pretty soon,” warned Nora.

“Ahem!” began Lieutenant Wingate.

“Are you going to make a speech?” demanded Emma

apprehensively.

“What I am about to say will answer your question. Grace has

been suggesting that this outfit get together and spend the latter
part of the summer in the open. That set my brain in operation.”
 “Your what?” interrupted Emma.

Grace laughed merrily, and then begged Hippy’s pardon.

“Upon my return from the war,” resumed Hippy, unheeding the

interruption, “my friend, Captain Jamieson, of the State
Constabulary, asked me to volunteer to serve in the troop with him
on strike duty. I did so. Girls, you have no idea of the joy I found in
‘packing leather,’ as the horsemen call it—horseback riding. After that
experience with the troop, when Grace was speaking about an
outing in the open, it occurred to me that the Overton Unit might
work off its surplus energy in the saddle, and at the same time have
a glorious outing. Brown Eyes, tell them of your experience in the
saddle.”

Grace related how, after having been made an honorary member

of the troop, she had taken up horseback riding and what a
wonderful revelation it had been to her.

“Take my word for it, too, Brown Eyes already is as fine a rider as
there is in the troop. The captain says she is a natural born
horsewoman,” declared Hippy with enthusiasm. “Even my Nora
promises that, hereafter, riding horseback is to be her own principal
recreation. How many of you girls ride?”

Elfreda and Anne said they had ridden some when younger, but
not recently. Emma Dean owned a pony, she said, but had not been
on its back in more than two years.

“Good!” exclaimed Lieutenant Wingate. “You all at least know how

to stick on leather, so we will proceed to the next stage of the
journey. My great secret is no longer a secret. You already know
what I am about to propose. Do you girls wish to join out with us for
a month or so in the saddle?”

“To go where?” questioned Elfreda.

 “That is for us girls to decide upon,” interjected Grace. “The first
question to be settled is, who will go?”

“All in favor of taking a horseback trip say ‘aye’; contrary ‘no,’”

cried Hippy.

The answer was a chorus of ayes.

“The ayes have it! We go,” announced the lieutenant, smiling his
pleasure at the decision.

“Have you a suggestion to offer as to where we might go?” asked

Anne.

“It was my thought that we might tour New England,” answered

the lieutenant.

“New England!” cried Emma Dean. “There isn’t any fun in doing
that. When I go out for adventure I wish the real thing. Adventure in
New England! Huh! It hasn’t existed in New England since the
Indians put down an arrow barrage on the Pilgrim Fathers. You will
have to think of something more exciting than New England if you
expect me to go with you.”

“Where do we get the saddle horses?” was Elfreda’s query.

“Hippy will arrange for that,” Grace informed her. “I agree with
Emma that, so long as we are going out for adventure, we should
get as far from the beaten paths as possible. Roughing it in the real
meaning of the term is what we girls need.”

“That is what I say,” cried Emma. “No weak lemonade trips for
me. Give me a wild west or give me an automobile.”

“I am certain that Loyalheart has a suggestion to offer,” said Miss

Briggs, nodding in Grace’s direction.
 “Yes, I have,” admitted Grace. “My advice is that we adopt Emma’s
suggestion and go west. Speaking for myself, there is one place out
there that always has held a great fascination for me. I refer to the
Old Apache Trail in Arizona. From what I have read of that part of
the country, one should be able to find adventure in a horseback
journey over the old trail. Going so far by train, before we start with
horses, will make it rather an expensive trip, but I do not believe it
will be beyond our means.”

Emma’s eyes widened.

“Indians? Are there Indians there?”

“Every bush hides a lurking Apache,” Lieutenant Wingate gravely

informed her.

“Oh!” exclaimed Emma under her breath.

“I do not believe it is quite so alarming as that,” laughed Grace.

“Even though there are Indians, we probably shall not be troubled
by them. Are there any further suggestions, girls?”

“The Apache Trail sounds interesting to me,” admitted Anne.

“Both interesting and alarming,” averred Elfreda. “However, we

know from past experiences that trouble always goes hand in hand
with Grace Harlowe, so we are fully prepared in advance for
whatever may come to us. What do we take with us, and how are
we to dress?”

“It has occurred to me that we can wear our old army uniforms,
without insignia,” replied Grace. “They will be appropriate for riding,
but we should wear campaign hats in place of our overseas caps.
Such changes of clothing as we shall require can be carried in our
steamer trunks which we will send ahead by express. My advice is
not to carry any finery. Let us keep in the simple atmosphere at all
times, bearing in mind that this will not be a Pullman car outing after
we reach our starting point. How soon can you girls be ready?”

Elfreda said she would be prepared to leave in about ten days,

having some office legal matters to clear up before going away. The
others said they could be ready in even less time than that, so it was
decided that they should meet at Oakdale for the start for the west
on August first. Hippy, in the meantime, would, so far as possible,
arrange by correspondence for the horses they were to ride, and for
such equipment as had to do with his part in the preparations.

The following few days were busy ones for all, between riding
horseback, taking short gallops out into the country on such mounts
as they could find at livery stables, and planning for their vacation in
the saddle. On these rides, Hippy and Grace taught the others such
riding points as they had learned in their riding experiences, all save
Emma quickly adapting themselves to the saddle, so that the week’s
vacation at Haven Home lengthened to twelve days before Elfreda
and Emma entrained for home. Anne remained with Grace, there
being no reason why she should return home, as her husband, still
in the service of his country, was on the other side of the Atlantic.

In the intervening days before the start for the west, Hippy
corresponded by wire and letter, with the postmaster at Globe,
Arizona, who informed the lieutenant that there were two stock
farms near that place, where mounts suitable for the Overton girls’
needs might be purchased or hired at reasonable prices. It was
decided, however, that no definite arrangement for horses should be
made until Hippy had had opportunity to look them over, with all the
girls present to approve of his selection.

Grace, having completed most of her preparations for their outing,

now made a brief journey to the city to visit Yvonne at her school,
returning home in time to welcome Elfreda and Emma, who arrived
at Oakdale looking trim and pretty in their new tailor-made serge
traveling suits. Grace looked her two friends over critically on their
arrival.

“Becoming, but not quite suitable for horseback riding,” she

observed, referring to their costumes.

“Our riding suits are in our steamer trunks,” explained Elfreda. “I

know—you said we were not to take any finery along, but surely,
while traveling on a train we should wear something other than our
uniforms.”

Grace admitted that perhaps this would be advisable, and decided

that the party would be less conspicuous in traveling clothes.

It was a merry company at Haven Home that evening, the eve of

the Overton girls’ departure for the west on what, each one
instinctively felt, was destined to be an eventful journey. Several
neighbors came in and there was music, with Irish songs by Nora, a
characteristic speech from the lips of Lieutenant Wingate, followed
by dancing, refreshments and much chatter, until a late hour.

After the neighbors had said their good-byes the Overton girls put
the finishing touches to their packing and closed their trunks.

“To be opened when we reach Arizona,” announced Grace, placing

her trunk key in her purse, smiling at her friends with that rare smile
that so attracted people to her.

Quite a party was at the station to see the outfit off next morning,
though naturally the crowd was neither so great nor so boisterous as
when, upon her arrival home from the war, Grace Harlowe had been
literally carried from the train to her home, a heroine, not in theory,
but in fact, as the crosses of war of two nations, pinned to her
blouse, bore evidence.

Farewells were waved from car windows, the tall maples and
spreading elms of Haven Home melted into the distance as the
journey toward the setting sun was begun.

“Somehow I have a feeling that this vacation of ours is not to be

an unalloyed sweet summer’s dream,” sighed Elfreda Briggs, settling
herself resignedly for the journey.
 CHAPTER II

ON THE OVERLAND COACH

“O H, girls, I’ve made a perfectly marvelous discovery,” cried

Grace Harlowe as she burst into the parlor of the hotel at
Globe, Arizona, on the morning following their arrival from the east.

“Which means, watch your step, Overton Unit,” reminded Elfreda

Briggs. “What is the nature of your discovery, a long lost brother or
something of that sort?”

“My discovery is a genuine old Deadwood stagecoach,” Grace

informed her companions.

Elfreda regarded her narrowly.

“Our Flying Lieutenant, Hippy Wingate, is examining it now to see

if it is really fit for use,” continued Grace with no abatement of her
enthusiasm.

“A Deadwood stagecoach?” wondered Emma Dean.

“That is the kind of coach they used in the old stagecoach days of
the early west,” Elfreda Briggs explained.

“Eh? The kind that the bandits used to hold up, and rob the
passengers? That husband of mine used to read all about it when he
was a youngster. He declares that had the war not come along when
it did, he might have been a bandit himself,” asserted Nora Wingate.
“What does he want to look over that old stagecoach for?” she
demanded suspiciously.

“Hippy is thinking of taking a ride in it,” smiled Grace. “Listen to

me, girls! I will tell you what Hippy and I have to suggest.”

“It is about time,” muttered Elfreda.

“The suggestion is,” resumed Grace, “that we girls take a trip in

the Deadwood coach, say out as far as the Apache Lodge on the
trail. There is no reason why we should not, at least, make a night
drive, say up to about midnight, go into camp for a few hours’ sleep,
and then drive back to Globe in the early morning. Should we like
the coaching well enough we can go on and do the entire hundred
and twenty miles of the Old Apache Trail in that way.”

“This is all very well, but what about the ponies that the lieutenant
has hired for the ride over the trail?” questioned Anne.

“We can have the ponies led through to Phœnix and ride them
back, camping along the way back for the rest of our vacation,”
replied Grace. “Hippy will arrange that matter, and make a deal with
the stagecoach owner after he has carefully looked the old wagon
over to make certain that it will go through the trip without falling
apart.”

“You think it will be a perfectly safe thing to do, do you, Grace?”

questioned Elfreda Briggs.

“Yes, if the stagecoach holds together,” answered Grace smilingly.

“If!” muttered J. Elfreda under her breath.

“But, Grace, suppose a band of bad men hold us up and rob us?”
urged Emma apprehensively.
 “No danger whatever, my dear. Those days have passed in the
great west, as have the savage Apaches of olden time, though the
trip will take us over the ground on which they fought many fierce
battles. Ah! Here comes Hippy now. How about it, Lieutenant?”

“All set, Brown Eyes. The owner of the stagecoach says he has a
new set of wheels that he will put on, as the old ones would not
stand up under the load we shall have. Otherwise, the old rattler is
good for many a journey over the trail. I think the owner got a good
idea from us, and that he will make the Deadwood stagecoach trip a
regular attraction for tourists. What do you say, girls?”

“Grace is the one to say,” averred Elfreda. “On our journey out
here you will remember that we decided she should be our captain. I
may have my doubts about the advisability of the proposed coaching
trip, but I will agree to it with a certain mental reservation. Alors!
Let’s go!”

“Have you seen the owner of the ponies?” asked Grace, turning to
Lieutenant Wingate.

Hippy nodded.

“He doesn’t care what we do, so long as he gets his money.”

“When will the stagecoach be ready?” questioned Grace.

“Within an hour, if you decide to make the trip.”

“That is all very well, so far as it goes,” observed Nora Wingate.

“What I wish to ask is how are we going to sleep and eat?”

“We shall take with us twenty-four hours’ rations and a small tent,
which can be carried on the roof of the stagecoach. Hippy can sleep
on the floor of the coach and we girls will sleep in the tent,” Grace
informed her companions.
 “Any old place is good enough for Hippy,” complained Lieutenant
Wingate.

“A man like yourself, who has slept on a cloud, hovering over the
German lines on the French front, ought not to complain about
having to sleep on nice, soft blankets on the floor of a stagecoach,”
teased Grace.

“Who’s complaining?” retorted Hippy. “What is the verdict?”

“Unless there are objections which argument cannot overcome, I

shall decide for taking the stagecoach,” announced Grace.

“Ladies, please give voice to your preferences, and be quick about

it,” urged Hippy.

The vote was unanimous for the stagecoach.

“Brown Eyes, will you attend to getting the food?” he asked.

“Yes, with Nora’s assistance. We will go shopping at once, Nora

dear. Hippy, please tell the stagecoach man that we will take the
coach, and that we shall be ready to leave at four o’clock this
afternoon. Please see that the A tent is shipped aboard our craft. By
the way, what does he propose to charge us for the trip out and
back?”

“Twenty dollars,” replied Hippy. Lieutenant Wingate added, that, if

Grace would give him a memorandum of exactly what she wished to
carry along, he would get the equipment together at once.

“I will do that now,” replied Grace. “Upon reflection, I would

suggest that you tell the man who owns the ponies we have hired,
to hold the animals here, as we shall be back here to-morrow. I have
about decided that one night with the stagecoach will give us all the
thrills we are looking for in that direction. Anyway, we are out here
to ride horseback, so you girls must not look too hard for comfort in
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