u'd rather do that than anything else. The girls and the others can
ride with me."

"How do you know I don't want to ride on horseback, Uncle John?" cried
Martha gayly. She often called this intimate chum of her father "uncle."

"No, Martha, you'd better ride with us now," put in Mrs. Rover hastily.
"You can do your horseback riding later on."

"Oh, I was only fooling, Aunt Grace," the girl replied.

"I'm just crazy to see Big Horn Ranch, Uncle John," came from Mary.

"Well, I hope you'll like it," returned Songbird Powell. "I want every
one of you to have the best times ever while you're here." His eyes
glistened. "We ought to have a regular old-fashioned reunion." And then,
unable to control himself, he broke out into a bit of his old-time
doggerel.

"I'm glad you're here.
I hope you'll stay.
I'll miss you much
When you're away."

"Hurrah, Songbird, that certainly sounds natural!" cried Sam Rover,
slapping his old chum on the shoulder. "You'll have to give us more of
that later on."

"I haven't spent much time on verses the last few years, Sam," answered
Songbird. "I've been too busy attending to business. But maybe I'll get
back to it while loafing around the ranch," he added.

"Are any other people coming to the ranch?"

"Yes, one other person. And I think you'll be very much surprised to see
him."

"Who is that?"

"Oh, you had better wait until he arrives," returned Songbird Powell, and
began to grin as though the thought of what was coming pleased him.

The older persons and the girls waited until all the boys were safely in
the saddle, and then Songbird Powell started the automobile.

"I'm leaving them in your care, Joe," he called back to his foreman, as
he moved along. "Bring 'em to the ranch in safety."

"Trust me," called out the foreman promptly. "We'll be at the ranch
almost as soon as you."

"Well, don't ride the horses to death," shouted back Songbird. And then
in a few minutes more the automobile disappeared in the distance.

"The boys will certainly enjoy that horseback riding," said Mary.

"Glad of it," answered Songbird Powell, and as the automobile rolled
onward he murmured gaily:

"An elephant sat on a bamboo tree
And he was as happy as he could be.
'To travel,' said he, 'is awfully punk
Unless you remember to take your trunk!'"

"Oh, what a funny rhyme!" giggled Martha.

"I'll have to write that down in my scrap book," returned her cousin