, Molly, an'
I'll put up the team."

"I'll help you. I haven't forgotten how to unhitch." Her nimble fingers
worked as fast as Sandy's with buckles, coiling traces and looping
reins. She led the team off to the drinking trough and fed each an
apple, with Sandy looking at her, registering the picture that made such
strong appeal.

"Goin' to take Donald Keith out fo' a real ride on a real hawss?" he
asked her.

"Yes. To-morrow. He's keen to go. You'll come. And Sam and Kate?"

"I've got a hunch I'm goin' to be busy ter-morrer. Keith's comin', fo'
one thing."

"I forgot. I wish you could come." The passing shadow on her face was
sunshine to Sandy. Molly went into the house and he opened the telegram.
It was from Brandon, as he expected.

Thanks. Coming immediately. Was starting anyway. That trap
worked. May need horses for eight. Will you arrange?

BRANDON.

"It sure looks like a busy day ter-morrer," Sandy said half aloud.
"Keith and Brandon--which means roundin' up Jim Plimsoll. Sam don't get
to any picnic, either. He'll have to 'tend to the hawsses."

The Keith touring car arrived in mid-afternoon with young Keith at the
wheel, the chauffeur beside him, grips in the tonneau. Donald Keith
jumped out, affable, a little inclined to condescension at first toward
everything connected with the ranch, including Kate Nicholson. The
imperturbable driver left with the car. Young Keith's snobbery wore off
as he inspected the corrals and the stock with eager interest and the
riders with a certain measure of awe, which he transferred to Sandy on
learning that he had broken two colts that morning.

"If they're broken, I must be all apart," he said, watching them plunge
wildly about the corral at the sight of visitors. "I'd hate to try to
ride one of them in Central Park. If I could stick on I'd be pinched for
endangering the public. Wish I could have seen you bu'st them."

"There'll be mo' of it befo' you leave," said Sandy. His mood of the
morning held. His generosity of feeling toward Keith's boy did not
lessen when he saw how much the elder of the two Molly appeared. The
youngster was spoiled, probably selfish, but he was distinctly likable.

"Know what time yore father expects to be out?" Sandy asked him, later.

"He didn't say. He's got some business to attend to. Some time in the
forenoon, I imagine. I know he's figuring on getting back to Casey Town
to-night. Molly, you haven't taken me out to se