were sitting.

"Jimsy Bancroft," demanded Roy, "we are now on the great Nevada
desert, or on the edge of it. Does it meet with your approval?"

"There's plenty of it anyhow," laughed Jimsy, "and really it's very
much like what I expected it would be."

"I feel like a regular cowgirl or--a--er--well, what the newspapers
call a typical Westerner already," said Jess Bancroft, Jimsy's
sister.

"Only typical Westerners don't protect their delicate complexions
from dust with cold cream," laughed Peggy, holding up a finger
reprovingly. "As if any beauty magazine won't tell you it's a
woman's duty to take the greatest care of her complexion," parried
Jess. "Roy and I have been sitting out on the observation platform
on the last coach--that is, we sat there till the dust drove us in."

She shook the folds of a long, light pongee automobile coat she wore
and a little cloud of dust arose. They all coughed as the pungent
stuff circulated.

"Ugh," cried Roy, "it makes your eyes smart."

"That's the alkali in it," quoth Jimsy sagely, "alkali is--"

"Very unpleasant," coughed Peggy.

"But as we are likely to have to endure it for the next few weeks,"