boarder, to the mutual pleasure of the small philosopher and her
audience.

The experiment this morning had proved anything but a pleasure drive for
either of them, however. Timid Miss Scudder, afraid of horses, afraid of
the lonely desert, and with a deathly horror of snakes, gave a sigh of
relief when they came in sight of the white tents clustered around the
brown adobe ranch house on the edge of the irrigating canal. But with
the end of her journey in sight, she relaxed her strained muscles and
nerves somewhat, and listened with interest to what Mary was saying.

"This year has brought three of us our heart's desires, anyhow. Holland
has been wild to get into the navy ever since he was big enough to know
that there is one. Jack has been looking forward to this position in the
mines ever since we came out West. It will be the making of him,
everybody says. And Joyce's one dream in life has been to save enough
money to go East to take lessons in designing. Her bees have done
splendidly, but I don't believe she could have _quite_ managed it if
Eugenia Forbes hadn't invited her to be one of the bridesmaids at her
wedding, and promised to send her a pass to New York."

She broke off abruptly as Bogus came to a stop in front of the tents,
and, standing up, she proceeded to dangle the snake carefully over the
wheel, till it was lowered in safety to the ground. Ordinarily she would
have lingered at the ranch until the occupant of every tent had strolled
out to admire her trophy, and afterward might have accepted Hazel Lee's
invitation to stay to dinner. It was a common occurrence for them to
spend their Saturdays together. But to-day not even the promise of
strawberry shortcake and a ride home afterward, when it was cooler,
could tempt her to stay.

The yellow road stretched hot and glaring across the treeless desert.
The snake was too heavy to carry on a pole over her shoulder. She would
have to drag it through the sun and sand if she went now. But her
curiosity was too strong to allow her to wait. She must find out what
was in that letter to Joyce. If it were from Jack, there would be
something in it about their plans for the summer; maybe a kodak picture
of the shack in the pine woods near the mines, where they were to board.
If it were from Holland, there would be another interesting chapter of
his experiences on board the training-ship.

Once as she trudged along the road, it occurred to her that the letter
might