with them except one man, who was left to watch the
cattle. They were "full of sing," as one of them put it, and it was a
jolly ride back to the ranch. When it was finally reached, the cow-boys
gave them a "send-off" that could have been heard a mile away. They
shouted and yelled like the wild "In-ji-ans" they had sung about, and as
they wheeled around to gallop back to camp, they fired all the charges
in their revolvers into the air as a parting courtesy. Then there was a
mad scamper of horses' hoofs, the yells grew fainter, and the cow-boys
were gone.

When John went into the house he found two letters which had been
brought up by some passing friend from Amarilla. One of them was from an
old schoolmate of his, who had become a professor in a Northern college,
asking for some loco-weed, to be added to the college botanical
collection. The other was from Scylla's father, saying that if it would
be convenient he would bring his little daughter out to the ranch in a
few days for a long-promised visit to Martha. This second letter sent
Martha to bed a very happy little girl.

Several days passed before Scylla arrived at the ranch; but when she did
come there was great rejoicing. After she was comfortably ensconced in
her wheeled chair on the porch, she held a mimic reception. John and
Martha did the honors, and every human being within call was introduced
to the little invalid. In the store there were a dozen leather-decked
cow-boys, and Scylla felt quite like a queen as each one scrambled up to
her, and with his broad sombrero in one hand took her tiny fingers in
the other as he turned red and tried to say something polite. Nor did
her impromptu court end with that. After the introductions were over,
all the visitors sat down on the porch or the grass before it, while
Martha exhibited her pets to her friend. Gitter, the calf, was put
through all his tricks, the cat was placed in Scylla's poor little arms,
where he purred contentedly, and the dog chased sticks thrown by whoever
could find any to throw. After Gitter had been led away, Martha came up
from the stables with her two horses--Texas and Dan. Big black Dan was
inclined to frisk a bit and jump about at the unusual scene; but
little Texas worked his way right into Scylla's heart by marching
steadily and straight up to her, despite Martha's laughing pulls on the
lariat looped about his neck. With ears pricked forward, he made
friendly overtures to the new-comer on