the reins lie loosely on her neck, speaking reassuringly from time to time. Gradually Clover slackened her wild lope, dropped to a gentle gallop, and then into a canter and from that to a walk.
"Well, now, you silly horse, I hope you feel that you're far enough from danger," said Betty conversationally. "I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea where we are. Bob and I have never ridden this far, and from the looks of the country I don't think it is what the geographies call 'densely populated'. Mercy, what a lonesome place!"
Clover had gone contentedly to cropping grass, and that reminded Betty that she was hungry.
Far away she saw the outlines of oil derricks, but the horse seemed to have taken her out of the immediate vicinity of the oil fields. Not a house was in sight, not a moving person or animal. The stillness was unbroken save for the hoarse call of a single bird flying overhead.
Suddenly Betty's eyes widened in astonishment. She jerked up Clover's head so sharply that that pampered pet shook it angrily. Why should she be treated like that?
"The three hills!" gasped Betty. "Grandma Watterby's three hills! 'Joined together like hands' she always says, and right back of the
