"Then Ruth will get a chance to wear her riding-skirt after all--her
heart will be stronger after a while. I've hated to ride when she
couldn't, but she has insisted upon our going."

"That's just like you, you unselfish old dear! But Ruth told me that
it was the next best thing to riding herself, to see you on Comanche."

"Did she?" asked Sarah; and then hid her face in the trunk so that
Blue Bonnet should not see how pleased she was.

They were to leave in the morning, and trunks were to be sent to the
station this very afternoon. Already Uncle Joe was hovering about,
rope in hand, waiting to give the final touch to the baggage. He had
found it necessary to keep very busy these last few days.

"We might have seen this coming," he said disconsolately to Mr. Ashe,
as the latter sat smoking a solitary pipe on the front veranda. "Let
young folks get runnin' with young folks, and they're never again
contented alone."

"It isn't _young_ folks that's taking Blue Bonnet this time, Joe." Mr.
Ashe glanced in to where a silver head showed just inside the window.
"_Her_ girl never went back to her from Texas, and I reckon it's only
right she should have her share of Elizabeth's daughter."

Uncle Joe looked sober. "You're right, Cliff." Then, as if determined
to look on the bright side of things, "We'll have the boy for
company."

"Yes, and there'll be more letters. She'll tell him things she
wouldn't be likely to write to two old fellows." And with this crumb
of comfort the "two old fellows" were forced to content themselves.

Blue Bonnet was up at daybreak next morning, and, sitting on the top
rail of the pasture fence, watched the sun rise out of the prairie.
Don and Solomon eyed her expectantly.

"Our last sunrise on the ranch, Solomon, for ever and ever so
long,--we're off to Massachusetts this very morning. And it's a
Pullman for me and a baggage-car for you--no private car this time!
But I'll come and see you at every station and see that you have
exercise. Poor dog, I wonder how you'll like the 'resumption of
discipline'--as Alec calls it? We're going back to Aunt Lucinda, you
know, Solomon, and Aunt Lucinda's strong for discipline."

Her eyes wandered off toward the distant hills and then away across
the wind-swept, rolling prairie. How would it seem to be back again
among houses, tall houses with trim door-yards and clipped
hedges,--houses so close one couldn't throw a stone without "breaking
a window or a t