"
"No," agreed Nan, "we can't ever do that."
It was about noon on the day after the night of the wreck, that Mr.
Bobbsey said to his wife and children:
"We will get out soon."
"Shall we be in Cowdon?" asked Bert. "At the ranch?"
"No, not exactly at the ranch," his father told him. "But we'll reach
the town of Cowdon, and from there we'll drive to the ranch, which is
about ten miles from the railroad."
"Oh, may I ride a pony out to the ranch?" cried Bert.
"I don't believe they'll bring any ponies to meet us," said Mr.
Bobbsey. "Later on you may ride one."
The train pulled into the little western station. Some time since the
big stretches of woods and trees had been left behind, and now the
Bobbseys were in the open prairie country--the land of cattle, cowboys
and, at least Bert hoped, of Indians also.
"This is really the West, isn't it?" said Bert to his father, as they
saw the wide, rolling fields on either side of the train.
"Yes, this is the West," was the answer.
"But where are the cowboys and the cows?" Nan asked.
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