one
else!"

CHAPTER III

THE GETTING-ACQUAINTED TRIP

"If--if you'll excuse me, Virginia, I'd--I'd really rather stay at home
with Hannah and your father."

It was Vivian who spoke. She was clad in a new riding-suit, which had been
worn only during a few trembling and never-to-be-forgotten moments of the
day before, when Donald had led the oldest and safest horse on the ranch
to and fro beneath the cottonwoods. Old Siwash would never have thrown
Vivian. Far was it from him to treat a guest of his mistress in that
manner. But in spite of stirrups, saddle-horn, and the reassuring presence
of Donald, Vivian had, in some mysterious way, slipped from the saddle,
and fallen in an ignominious little heap by the wayside.

It had been more ignominious to have Priscilla and Mary, who had
themselves been riding but an hour, come cantering--actually
_cantering_--up with Virginia to see if she were hurt. She almost wished
she had been hurt. If her leg had been broken, or old Siwash had kicked,
or even her face been cut just a little, she might have been regarded not
exactly as a heroine, perhaps, but as a martyr at least. However, nothing
was broken except her spirit; old Siwash had stood stock-still; and her
face had shown no sign of anything save fright and dirt. The whole
situation was quite too much to be borne, and did not need the disdainful
glance which the critical blue eyes of Carver Standish had cast upon her.

The Vigilantes had been lovely as they led their horses and walked to the
house with her; Aunt Nan, who had had her first lesson with Malcolm Keith
that morning, was comforting; Mr. Hunter encouraging; and Donald the
finest boy she had ever known in her life. It had really seemed as though,
with them all to stand by her, she could mount again the next morning and
go on the much-dreamed of getting-acquainted trip to Lone Mountain. But
now the time to go had come, and her courage had fled. She had beckoned
Virginia from the corral where the men were saddling the horses, and
drawn her away to a secluded spot. Virginia did not need Vivian's
confession. Her frightened face was quite enough.

"I--I just can't do it, Virginia!" she finished.

Virginia considered for a long moment. Then her clear gray eyes met
Vivian's frightened blue ones.

"Vivian," she said, "perhaps you'll be angry with me for speaking so
plainly to you, but I've just got to do it. If you don't want the
Vigilantes to be dead ashamed o