I were an artist, I would
like to paint them. Won't you come over to Mrs. Simpson with me? They
are well out of any danger and I know Mrs. Simpson would want you and
Miss Olive to join her."

An unregenerate twinkle returned to Jack's eyes. "To tell you the truth,
Mr. Kent, I would like awfully to go over and stay with Aunt Sallie.
Olive and I feel very strange here alone, but the fact is I deliberately
ran away from home to come to the round-up and Olive rode along to
protect me. I am ashamed to confess my sin to Mrs. Simpson."

"Nevertheless you had better come," Frank urged, and for once, Jack
yielded to another will.

It might have been wiser to have turned back home than to have faced
Aunt Sallie and her Eastern relatives, but Jack and Olive could not have
ridden to Rainbow Lodge without having something more to eat. Olive
already seemed exhausted. She was quite pale and scarcely lifted her
eyes. Jack knew that Olive hated to meet the members of the house party,
whom she had not seen since the time when she was rescued from being
Miss Laura Post's maid.

"Jack Ralston, the most unlikely place in the world is the most likely
place to find you," Mrs. Simpson exclaimed laughingly, as Frank and the
two newcomers rode up to her big touring car. "What in the world are you
girls doing here?"

"Shall I tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, Aunt Sallie?"
Jack demanded, smiling at Mrs. Simpson and bowing to Mrs. Post, Laura
and Mr. Simpson. Mrs. Post put up her lorgnettes, as though she were in
a box at the opera, to gaze at these extraordinary girls. Their clothes
were dusty and their hair showed the effects of their long, morning
ride, but turning, Mrs. Post beheld her beloved Laura swathed in a pale
pink motor veil and a long fur coat, and breathed a sigh of admiration
and relief. Surely her Laura was not in the least like these Western
tomboys!

Mrs. Simpson shrugged her handsome shoulders. "Well, you usually tell
the truth, whatever else you do and don't do, Jack," Mrs. Simpson
avowed. "I know you have run off, so just stay here and have lunch with
me."

Mrs. Simpson was talking to Jack, but she was really interested in
Olive. How the girl had changed, in the few weeks since she had seen
her: she had always been pretty, but she had lost her look of fear. Her
grace and quiet manner showed beyond a doubt that from some source she
had a heritage of gentle blood. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson shook hands with
Oli