six o'clock the next morning when the train, the conductor told them, crossed the line into Oklahoma. Betty cherished an idea that the State in which she was so much interested would be "different" in some way from the country through which they had been passing.
The good-natured conductor was on hand the next morning to point out to them the State line, and Betty, under his direct challenge, had to admit that she could see nothing distinguishing about the scenery.
"Wait till you see the oil wells," said the conductor cheerfully. "You'll know you're in Oklahoma then, little lady."
Bob and Betty were to change at Chassada to make connections for Flame City, where Betty's Uncle Dick was stationed, and soon after breakfast the brakeman called the name of the station and they descended from the train. As it rolled on they both were conscious of a momentary feeling of loneliness, for in the long journey from Washington they had grown accustomed to their comfortable quarters and to the kindly train crew.
They had an hour to wait in Chassada, and Bob suggested that they leave their bags at the station and walk around the town.
"I believe they have oil wells near here," he said. "Some one on the train—oh, I know who
