looked forward to. The landlord of the hotel, a man with a careworn
face, shook his head dismally and predicted their return to
Albuquerque within twenty-four hours.

"Of course people _do_ make the trip from here to the coast," he said;
"but it's mighty seldom, and they all swear they'll never do it again.
It's uncomfortable, and it's dangerous."

"Why?" asked Uncle John.

"You're headed through a wild country, settled only by Mexicans,
Indians, and gangs of cowboys still worse. The roads are something
awful. That man Wampus is an optimist, and will tackle anything and
then be sorry for it afterward. The towns are scattered from here on,
and you won't strike a decent meal except at the railway stations.
Taking all these things into consideration, I advise you to make your
headquarters here for the winter."

"Thank you," returned Mr. Merrick pleasantly. "It's too late for us to
back out now, even if we felt nervous and afraid, which I assure you
we do not."

"We are not looking for excessive comfort on this journey, you know,"
remarked Patsy. "But thank you for your warning, sir. It has given us
great pleasure; for if there were no chance of adventure before us we
should all be greatly disappointed."

Again the landlord shook his head.

"Right?" asked Wampus, at the wheel.