She
had tucked her candy box under her arm, and Bob took the bridles of the
two horses.
"Mercy, what was that?" Betty glanced up startled, as a wild yell sounded
over on their right.
There was a chorus of shouts, the same wild yell repeated, and then,
sudden and without warning, came a dense and heavy rain of blackest oil.
"Oh, Bob, Bob!" There was genuine anguish in Betty's wail of appeal. "My
new blouse--look at it!"
But Bob had no time to look at anything. Action was to be his course.
"It's a premature blast!" he shouted. "Come on, we've got to get out!"
CHAPTER II
NORMA'S LETTER
This was not Betty Gordon's first experience with an oil well set
off prematurely, and while she was naturally excited, she was not at
all afraid.
"Get on Clover!" shouted Bob. "I do wish you'd ever wear a hat--"
Betty laughed a little as she scrambled into her saddle. Bob, mounting
his own horse, wore no hat, but it was a pet grievance of his that Betty
persistently scorned headgear whether riding or walking.
"Gallop!" cried Bob. "Shut your eyes if you want to--Clover will
follow Reuben."
The white horse set off, his awkward lunge carrying him over the ground
swiftly, and the little bay Clover cantered obediently after him.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25