Chapter Five

The Roses Repulse the Refugees


Gently the raft grated on the sandy beach. Then
Betsy easily waded ashore, the mule following
closely behind her. The sun was now shining and
the air was warm and laden with the fragrance of
roses.

"I'd like some breakfast, Hank," remarked the
girl, feeling more cheerful now that she was on
dry land; "but we can't eat the flowers, although
they do smell mighty good."

"Hee-haw!" replied Hank and trotted up a little
pathway to the top of the bank.

Betsy followed and from the eminence looked
around her. A little way off stood a splendid big
greenhouse, its thousands of crystal panes
glittering in the sunlight.

"There ought to be people somewhere 'round,"
observed Betsy thoughtfully; "gardeners, or
somebody. Let's go and see, Hank. I'm getting
hungrier ev'ry minute."

So they walked toward the great greenhouse and