Johnston Annie Fellows. The Little Colonel in Arizona
CHAPTER I. MARY TELLS ALL SHE KNOWS
CHAPTER II. A ROBINSON CRUSOE OF THE DESERT
CHAPTER III. A DAY AT SCHOOL
CHAPTER IV. WARE'S WIGWAM
CHAPTER V. WHAT A LETTER BROUGHT ABOUT
CHAPTER VI. WASH-DAY AND WASHINGTON
CHAPTER VII. A SURPRISE
CHAPTER VIII. IN THE DESERT OF WAITING
CHAPTER IX. LLOYD'S DUCK HUNT
CHAPTER X. THE SCHOOL OF THE BEES
CHAPTER XI. THE NEW BOARDER AT LEE'S RANCH
CHAPTER XII. PHIL HAS A FINGER IN THE PIE
CHAPTER XIII. A CHANGE OF FORTUNE
CHAPTER XIV. THE LOST TURQUOISES
CHAPTER XV. LOST ON THE DESERT
CHAPTER XVI. BACK TO DIXIE
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Joyce stood in the door of the little adobe house, and looked out across the desert with tears in her eyes. If this was to be their home through all the dreary years that stretched ahead of them, it hardly seemed worth while to go on living.
Jack, in the bare unfurnished room behind her, was noisily wielding a hatchet, opening the boxes and barrels of household goods which had followed them by freight. He did not know which one held his gun, but he was determined to find it before the sun went down.
.....
Nevertheless, Jack barred the back door and locked the front one, before following Joyce across the yard, and over the little bridge spanning the irrigating canal, into the public road. They stood there a moment, looking back at the house, just one big square adobe room, with a shed-kitchen in the rear. Around three sides of it ran a rough sort of porch or shack, built of cottonwood posts, supporting a thatch of bamboo-stalks and palm-leaves. While it would afford a fine shelter from the sun in the tropical summer awaiting them, it was a homely, primitive-looking affair, almost as rough in its appearance as if Robinson Crusoe himself had built it.
"It's hopeless, isn't it!" said Joyce, with a despairing shake of the head. "No matter how homelike we may make it inside, it will always be the picture of desolation outside."
