A Good Sport

"Whew!" sighed Vivian, shifting her position in the saddle for the tenth time in as many minutes, and taking off her broad-brimmed hat to fan her tanned, flushed face. "I think sagebrush must attract the sun. I never was hotter in all my life! I wish now we'd stayed at the Buffalo Horn and waited till after supper to start back. Of course I don't exactly love riding in the dark, but of the two I'd about as soon be scared to death as baked. Where is the next shady spot, Virginia? I can't see a tree for miles! I honestly can't!"

"There aren't any," said the comforting Virginia, brushing back the damp rings of hair from her hot forehead, "and the next shady spot is two miles away. The trail bends and there are some quaking-asps by a spring. We'll rest there, and eat our cookies, and drink some real water. 'Twill be a change from the river."

"I'm thankful for the river though, even if I have drunk all kinds of bugs. I guess we'd have died without it through all these miles of sagebrush. When will the others get home, do you suppose?"

"Not until late," Virginia answered, "that is, if they wait for supper. I'd have loved to have stayed, but William wants Pedro for the range to-morrow, and I wanted him to have a longer rest. Besides, he runs so with the other horses and gets nervous. You were a peach to come with me, Vivian. Right in the hottest part of the day, too."