for it. Already his mates were teasing him about
it and prophesying that Lem had done his last job on the ranch.
Hereafter, if he was missed, all the "boys" would have to do would be to
hunt up Dorothy, or her chums, and find him.

"What's a doin', younkers? Hope your ridin' round didn't tire ye none.
Hello! Gone to raisin' sheep, have ye? Mighty pretty little creatur',
that one is. Where'd you find it?"

Even Helena left off learning dairy work and hurried with the others to
the window to learn his opinion.

He took the cover and the stone and carefully studied the inscriptions
on them. Cocked his head sidewise, put on his spectacles, screwed up
his eyebrows and his lips, and ejaculated:

"That's a poor fist--whoever done it!"

"Maybe it is; but both Alfaretta and I recognized it at once. You see
poor Jim almost taught himself to write. He'd begun that even before I
first saw him and it's hard to unlearn things, you know. Else, Jim's so
smart he'd have written better than any of us by this time. Yes, indeed!
Poor Jim is very, very clever!" said Dolly warmly.

Captain Lemuel shook his head, and remarked:

"I 'low you call him that by way o' compliment. But back home when we
called a feller 'clever' it meant he hadn't much sense. I've seen that
sort, 'clever' souls 't scurcely knew enough to come in out the rain.
This here one 'peared the same to me. Course, I hadn't been acquainted
with him longer 'n next to no time but if he was so smart, as I s'pose
you're meanin' to state, he hid it amazin' well. Hmm. But--but--if this
is a handwrite o' his 'n, our business is to take it straight to the
'Boss.' What you goin' to name your lamb, Little One?"

Dorothy lifted the little animal and gave it to him through the window.
He caressed it tenderly enough in his strong hands, for he loved all
animals, though horses best.

"Why, I hadn't thought. I mean we hadn't. And it isn't ours, anyway, if
it was sent to the Gray Lady."

"Your Gray Lady's name don't begin with a D. It's plain as the nose on
your face who it's meant for," he answered, promptly.

"Then if it is really mine--how lovely!--I'll just call it Snowball."

"Pshaw, Dolly Doodles! If I had a lamb sent to me by a poor lost feller
like Jim, I'd name it after him and not so silly like that. Do call it
Jim, junior," argued Alfy.

"Yes, sissy, but--but it ain't that kind of a lamb," observed the
Captain, siding with his favorite at once.

Molly giggled and ev