t and cowboy hat to-day, with the
cartridge belt and holster; so, as it happened, the last glimpse the
girls had of Bolo station was made picturesque by a vision of
"Cordelia's cowboy" (as Tilly always called Susie) waving her
broad-brimmed hat.

* * * * *

The trip to San Antonio was practically uneventful, though it was
certainly one long delight to the Happy Hexagons, who never wearied of
talking about the sights and sounds of the wonderful country through
which they were passing.

"Well, this isn't much like Bolo; is it?" cried Tilly, when at last they
found themselves in the handsome railroad station of the city itself. "I
shouldn't think Texas would know its own self half the time--it's so
different from itself all the time!"

[Illustration: "'THERE, NOW--LOOK!' SHE ADDED"]

"That's all right, Tilly, and I think I know what you mean," laughed
Genevieve; "but I wouldn't advise you to give that sentence to Miss Hart
as your best example of logic."

"Well, I was talking about Texas," retorted Tilly, saucily, "and there
isn't anything logical about Texas, that I can see. There, now--look!"
she added, as they reached the street. "Just tell me if there's anything
logical in that scene!" she finished, with a wave of her hand toward the
passing throng.

Genevieve laughed, but her eyes, too, widened a little as she stepped
one side with the others, for a moment, to watch the curious
conglomeration of humanity and vehicles before them.

In the street a luxurious limousine was tooting for a ramshackle prairie
schooner to turn to one side. Behind the automobile plodded a forlorn
mule dragging a wagon-load of empty boxes. Behind that came an army
ambulance followed by an electric truck. A handsome soldier on a restive
bay mare came next, and behind him a huge touring car with a pompous
black chauffeur. On either side of the touring car rode a grinning boy
on a mustang, plainly to the discomfort of the pompous negro and the
delight of two pretty girls in white who were in the low phaeton that
followed. A bicycle bell jangled sharply for a swarthy Mexican in a tall
peaked hat to get out of the way, and farther down the street two
solid-looking men in business suits were waiting for a pretty Mexican
woman with a rebosa-draped head to precede them into a car. Behind them
a huge negro woman wearing a red bandana about her head, waited her
turn. And still behind her a severe-faced young woman