slender hand, beautified by exquisitely kept nails, toward the gorgeous
sky picture.

"Every minute counts!" remarked practical Betty. Yet she knew better than
to worry her friends.

The glow faded, and again the girls advanced. From the fields came the
lowing of the cows, as they waited impatiently for the bars of the
pastures to be let down. A herd of sheep was driven along the road,
raising a cloud of dust. From farm houses came the barking of dogs and
the not unmusical notes of conch or tin horns, summoning the "men folks"
to the evening meal.

"Girls, we're never going to make it in time!" exclaimed Grace as the sky
darkened. "We must see if we can't stop at one of these houses over
night," and she pointed to a little hamlet they were approaching.

"Grace!" exclaimed Betty. "Aunt Sallie would be worried to death if we
didn't come, after she expected us."

"Then we must send her word. I can't go another step."

They all paused irresolutely. They were in front of a big white house--a
typical country home. Betty glanced toward it.

"It's too bad," she said. "I know just how you feel, and yet can we go up
to one of these places, perfect strangers, and ask them to keep us over
night? It doesn't seem reasonable."

"Anything is reasonable when you have to," declared Mollie. "I'll ask,"