f them as they jogged down the
last stretch of trail leaving the foothills. He recognized the horses
long before their riders were near enough to be identified as his father
and Bartley.

Little Jim did not rush to Aunt Jane and tell her excitedly that they
were coming. Instead, he quietly saddled up his pony and rode out to
meet them. Part-way up the slope he waited.

His greeting was not effusive. "I just thought I'd ride up and tell you
folks that--'that I seen you comin'."

"How goes the hunting?" queried Bartley.

"Fine! I got six rabbits yesterday. Dorry is gittin' so she can shoot
pretty good, too. How you makin' it, dad?"

Cheyenne pushed back his hat and gazed at his young son. "Pretty fair,
for an old man," said Cheyenne presently. "You been behavin' yourself?"

"Sure."

"How would you like to ride a real hoss, once?"

"You mean _your_ hoss?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'll trade you, even."

"No, you won't, son. But you can ride him down to the ranch, if you
like."

Little Jim almost tumbled from his pony in his eagerness to ride Joshua,
his father's horse, with the big saddle and rope and the carbine under
the stirrup leather.

"You musta made a long ride," declared Jimmy, as he scrambled up on
Joshua. "Josh's shoes is worn thin. He'll be throwin' one, next."

Jimmy called attention to the horse's shoes, that his father and Bartley
might not see how really pleased he was to ride a "real horse."

"Yes, a long ride. How is Aunt Jane and Dorry?"

"Oh, they're all right. Uncle Frank he cut twenty-two tons of alfalfa
off the lower field last week."

Cheyenne sat sideways on Jimmy's pony as they rode down the last easy
slope and turned into the ranch gate. Aunt Jane, who was busy
cooking,--it seemed that Aunt Jane was always busy cooking something or
other, when she wasn't dressmaking or mending clothing or
ironing,--greeted them warmly. Frank was working down at the lower end.
Dorry had gone to San Andreas. She would be back 'most any time, now.
And weren't they hungry?

They were. And there was fresh milk and pie. But they put up the horses
first.

Later, Cheyenne and Little Jim decided to walk down to the lower end of
the ranch and see Uncle Frank. Cheyenne had washed his hands and face
before eating, as had Bartley. But Bartley did not let it go at that. He
begged some hot water and again washed and shaved, brushed his clothes,
and changed his flannel shirt for a clean one. Then he strolled to the