"What under the sun is this?" she cried as she stooped over the now motionless little creature.

"Oh, that's a horn toad, it won't bother you," laughed Kit. "You'll see plenty of them around."

"Isn't it pretty!" Bet picked up the little creature between her thumb and forefinger gingerly. "Just look at its funny little tail! I never knew a toad had a tail."

"And look at the thorns all over its body. Isn't it funny?" Enid poked her finger at the toad, prodding it in the sides.

The toad was motionless now as if dead, only an occasional blinking of the eyes showed that it had life.

"If it isn't poisonous, I'd like to take it along for a pet." Bet turned toward the car.

"Oh, leave it where it is, Bet. Maybe it wouldn't want to be parted from its family," said Shirley in her quiet way.

Kit burst into a peal of laughter. "That's what I call considerate.

Its mother mightn't like to have it go out for a ride in an auto with strange people."

Bet paid no attention to Kit's nonsense. She was fascinated by this strange creature, covered with horn-like spines.

But at that moment Matt's voice rang out: "Let's go! And here's hoping we'll have no more tire trouble before we reach the ranch."

Bet turned to put down the horn toad, then exclaimed excitedly: "Look, Kit, what kind of a bird is that?"

"That's just a road runner. You'll see plenty of them before the summer is over."

"What a funny name for a bird!" answered Bet.

"You can call it a Chapparal c.o.c.k, if that suits your fancy," laughed Matt Larkin.

"I'll do it!" Bet said with a toss of her head. "That name sounds very stylish. And it suits it much better. Look at its lovely blue crest, and its bronze-green body!" The girls gave a little gasp as the large bird, evidently startled by the engine, went off on a run that looked ridiculous in a bird. Aided by its large wings, it made rapid progress.

"I like that bird!" cried Joy with enthusiasm. "I believe it could be taught to dance."

"You can have the job of teaching it," remarked Shirley Williams with a shiver. "I wouldn't want to get a nip from that long bill."

"If you want to know what that bill can do, just get the opinion of the rattlesnakes and lizards around here. Those birds are the worst enemies the snakes have. They certainly fade away when Mr. Road Runner is out for a walk. And by the way, Bet, this bird has a third name, it's 'Snake killer'."

But Matt was calling impatiently and the girls finally left their observations of desert life and took their seats in the car.

For a few miles Matt sent the machine ahead at a rate which troubled the girls but finally his impatience wore away and he slowed down to his ordinary careful driving.

Kit nodded approval and whispered to Bet: "Matt forgot he was driving a car; he thought he was riding a bronc."

"I am greatly relieved," said the professor quietly. "Speed is the curse of the age. We should take lessons from the Indians."

"That's all you know about Injins, Injins ain't so slow as you might think. I've seen 'em with plenty of ginger in 'em. They're only slow when there's work to be done." Matt Larkin had made the longest speech that Kit had ever heard from him at one time. He was not a talkative man, and rarely addressed anyone.

But that did not shake the professor in his conviction that Indians had led a quiet, placid existence and should be an example.

"Yes, we have much to learn from the red man," he continued just as if Matt had not spoken. And if he heard the contemptuous snort from the driver, he did not let on.

Mile after mile slid by quickly and soon the walls of the ranch house were visible.

"There it is!" cried Kit, hardly able to sit still. "We're almost home!"

"At long last!" Joy burst out impatiently. "I had almost given up expecting it. It's been ages since we left the station."

"But wasn't every minute of it perfect!" Enid Breckenridge was enjoying the feeling of ownership in the land. Part of this strange country was hers, her home. "Didn't you enjoy it all?"

"No, I didn't," Joy answered. "I got so tired of those tall smoke-stack cactus things that I wanted to scream." She pointed her hand at the towering pillars of the suhuaro, or giant cactus. "And I hope I'll never have to see a cow again. They're everywhere! Only one thing I dislike more, that's cactus."

"Why, Joy Evans, I think they are the most romantic looking objects I've ever seen. They're wonderful!" exclaimed Bet.

"And as for me, I've taken pictures every time Matt has slowed down enough. That shows what I think of them. I'm enthused over everything! I've taken six pictures of cattle." Shirley, the quiet one, rarely spoke so whole-heartedly over things. She appreciated but seldom expressed her emotions.

Bet had half risen in the auto and craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the ranch buildings, but all they could see for the moment was the high wall of sun-dried bricks.

"What's the idea of that wall about a ranch?" she asked. In spite of Bet's lively imagination, she always wanted a reason for everything she saw. "They don't have Indian raids any more, do they?" Bet's tone indicated that she almost wished they did.

"Oh, I hope not!" cried Joy. "Those fierce-looking Indians that we saw racing toward the station didn't look exactly peaceful. I'm sure I don't feel so very safe."

"Don't worry, girls, the Indians are tame enough now. But the walls date back to the time when they weren't," Kit explained. "When that wall was built the settlers needed it badly."

"Isn't it romantic!" Bet thrilled as she looked at the old adobe wall fully ten feet high with small porthole openings at intervals. "And there are the tiny windows they used to shoot through at the Indians.

I'd love to have seen it."

"Oh, Bet, you make me ashamed of you! And you know well enough you wouldn't have wanted to see an Indian raid," sniffed Joy contemptuously. "You're just trying to appear brave and wild."

But there was a look in Bet's eyes that confirmed her remarks. She longed for adventure, wild fighting and glorious deeds of valor. If she had been born earlier and been a boy she would have chosen the life of a soldier or a pirate. Of that she was very sure.

"And down back of that wall is the canyon, where the Indians hid and then rushed the ranch before the people inside knew they were there.

The old Indian trail runs off over the mountain on the other side of the canyon," Kit informed her friends.

"Think of having to live out here in those days when there was so much danger! I'm glad I didn't have to," Enid sighed. The memory of her own isolated existence on Campers' Trail through that hard winter was still too fresh in her memory. She did not often mention the unpleasantness of her life. Most of it was too bitter.

Eagerly the girls watched for the first sight of the ranch house, but it was not until the car reached the wide gateway that they were able to glimpse it. It stood far back toward the edge of the cliff and was so completely surrounded by trees that it was impossible to tell just what kind of a house it was. If it had not been for a few windows it might have been taken for part of the old wall. There was no attempt at ornament, in that adobe structure. The front was bare and without imagination. The door was in the center with a stone walk leading to it.

Bet especially felt disappointed. She had planned on a Spanish castle or something equally imposing. A romantic setting for Enid, a gorgeous frame that would bring out all the loveliness of her friend.

Everything was quiet. There was no sign of life.

Matt brought the car to a stand-still, and jumping out, opened the doors. The girls dismounted and stood there hardly knowing what to do.

Then a Chinese boy opened the door of the house and Bet caught a glimpse beyond him of a great patio, or interior court, full of tropical plants like a hot house.

Here at last was a spot romantic enough to suit her taste. Bet clung to Kit's arm as they went along the stone walk to the door.

"It's perfect, Kit, it's perfect!" she gasped.