elf, on fire. In the early
afternoon, of course, there was the inevitable siesta--Tilly's abhorred
"naps."

There were callers at the ranch house, too. Sometimes a cowboy from a
neighboring ranch came to look after a lost pony, or to see if his
cattle had strayed off the range through a broken fence. Sometimes a
hunter or trapper would stop for a chat on his way to or from Bolo. Once
Susie Billings in her khaki suit and cowboy hat came to spend the day;
and once, on Sunday, Mr. Jones came to hold service again. Much to the
girls' disappointment, Quentina did not come with him. The mother's foot
was better, Mr. Jones said, but the twins had come down with the
whooping cough, and poor Quentina could not be spared to leave home.

Sometimes a score of men and teams and cowboys with their strings of
horses would pass on their way to a round-up; and once two huge prairie
schooners "docked in the yard," as Tilly termed it; and their weary
owners, at Mr. Hartley's invitation, stopped for a night's rest.

That was, indeed, a time of great excitement for the Happy Hexagons, for
under Genevieve's fearless leadership they promptly made friends with
the sallow-faced women and the forlorn children, and soon were shown
the mysteries of the inside of the wagon-homes.

"Mercy! it looks just like play housekeeping; doesn't it?" gurgled
Tilly.

"But it isn't play at all, my dear," replied one of the women, a little
sadly. "Seems now like as if I ever had a home again what stayed put,
that I'd be happy, no matter where 'twas. Ain't that the way you feel,
Mis' Higgins?"

"Yes," nodded the other woman, dully, from her perch on the driver's
seat. "But I reckon my man ain't never goin' ter quit wheelin', now."

Even Genevieve seemed scarcely to know what to reply to this; but a few
minutes later she had succeeded in gaining the confidence of the several
children hanging about their mothers' skirts. Laughingly, then, the
young people trooped away together to look at the flowers--all but
Cordelia Wilson. Cordelia remained behind with the two women.

"Please--I beg your pardon--but did you say your name was 'Mrs.
Higgins'?" she asked eagerly, turning to the woman on the driver's seat.

"Why, no--I didn't, Miss. But that's my name."

"Yes, I know; 'twas the other lady who called you that, of course; but
it doesn't matter, so long as I know 'tis that."

"Oh, don't it?" murmured the woman, a little curiously.

"No; and--you came from N