oing right to relatives when you reach New York; are you, Miss
Morrell?" asked Dud, just before he climbed into the buckboard to return
to his friend's ranch.

"Oh, yes. I shall go to Aunt Eunice," said the girl, decidedly.

"No need of my warning you against bunco men and card sharpers," chuckled
Dud, "for your folks will look out for you. But remember: You'll be just
as much a tenderfoot there as I am here."

"I shall take care," she returned, laughing.

"And--and I hope I may see you in New York," said Dud, hesitatingly.

"Why, I hope we shall run across each other," replied Helen, calmly. She
was not sure that it would be the right thing to invite this young man to
call upon her at the Starkweathers'.

"I'd better ask Aunt Eunice about that first," she decided, to herself.

So she shook hands heartily with Dud Stone and let him ride away, never
appearing to notice his rather wistful look. She was to see the time,
however, when she would be very glad of a friend like Dud Stone in the
great city.

Helen made her preparations for her trip to New York without any advice
from another woman. To tell the truth she had little but riding habits
which were fit to wear, save the house frocks which she wore around the
ranch.

When she had gone to school in Denver, her father had sent a sum of money
to the principal and that lady had seen that Helen was dressed tastefully
and well. But all these garments she had outgrown.

To tell the truth, Helen had spent little of her time in studying the
pictures in fashion magazines. In fact, there were no such books about
Sunset Ranch.

The girl realized that the rough and ready frocks she possessed were not
in style. There was but one store in Elberon, the nearest town, where
ready-to-wear garments were sold. She went there and purchased the best
they had; but they left much to be desired.

She got a brown dress to travel in, and a shirtwaist or two; but beyond
that she dared not go. Helen was wise enough to realize that, after she
arrived at her Uncle Starkweather's, it would be time enough to purchase
proper raiment.

She "dressed up" in the new frock for the boys to admire, the evening
before she left. Every man who could be spared from the range--even as far
as Creeping Ford--came in to the "party." They all admired Helen and were
sorry to see her go away. Yet they gave her their best wishes.

Big Hen Billings rode part of the way to Elberon with her in the morning.
S