. And, honestly, Mr. Tim says these horses are
regular cows. Father told him he must get steady ones. Won't you
please--try it? It will break my heart, if you don't. You see I've said
so much to the boys, since I came, about your riding! They were so
surprised to think you could ride, and I was so proud to say you did!"

"You--you were?" stammered Cordelia.

"Yes."

"Well, young ladies," called Mr. Tim, at that moment, "here's the
steadiest little string of horses going! Who'll have the first pick?"

"I will," cried Cordelia, wetting her dry lips, and speaking with a
stern determination that yet did not quite hide the shake in her voice.
"That is--I don't care about my pick, but I'm going to ride--right
away--quick!" she finished, determined that at least Genevieve should
not be ashamed--of her.

After all, it was only the first five minutes that were hard. The little
horses were politeness itself, and seemed fully to realize the
responsibilities of their position. The girls, determined not to shame
Genevieve, acquitted themselves with a grace and ease that brought forth
an appreciative cheer from the boys as the young people rode away.

"Now I feel as if I were in Texas," exulted Tilly, drawing in a full
breath of the fresh, early morning air.

"I'm so glad--so glad we're all in Texas," cried Genevieve, looking
about her with shining eyes.

* * * * *

According to Tilly, there was always "something doing" at the ranch
house. The boys--much to their own surprise, it must be confessed--had
adopted "the whole bunch" (as Long John called the young people), and
were never too busy or too tired to display their skill as ropers or
riders. Always there was the fascinating morning start to work to watch,
and frequently there was in the afternoon some wild little broncho that
needed to be broken to the saddle, or to be trained to stop, wheel
instantly, stand motionless, or to start at top speed, according to his
master's wishes; all of which was a never-ending source of delight to
unaccustomed Eastern eyes.

For pleasant days there were, too, rides, drives to Bolo, picnic
luncheons, and frolics of every sort. For rainy days there were games
and music in the living room, to say nothing of letters from home to be
read and answered. Most of the twilights--if fair--were spent by
everybody on the front gallery watching the golden ball in the west set
the whole prairie, as well as the sky its