They tried to bridle and ride the rooster, they threw handfuls of dust in each other's hair and rocks at each other's heads. The flies swarmed and the dogs contributed their share to the din.
The thought of spending the night in the squalor of this shiftless, Texas home filled Nan with apprehension. It was something for which to be thankful, she said to herself, with a faint smile, that the "prep" brother could not see her in her present surroundings.
And Bob! how he would chortle! No, on second thought, she did not believe that he would.
Mrs. Gallagher, squatting on her heels on the shady side of the house, was not nearly so indifferent to the discomforts of the Blakely home with its riotous little Blakelys, as she appeared, for she found an opportunity to say to Nan:
"I think it is better that we ride to Las Rubertas—seven miles—because here, señorita"—she rolled her eyes with something of droll humor in their depths—"there are too many niños. You will not sleep very well, perhaps."
