"He opens and shuts like a blamed ol' jack rabbit," commented Conny.
"Seemed like we was just a-sittin' still watchin' you go by."

Kitty laughed, teasingly, and unconsciously slipped into the vernacular
as she returned, "Did you kids think you were a-horseback?"

"You just wait, Miss," retorted the grinning Jimmy, as he opened the big
gate. "I'll get a horse some day that'll run circles around that ol'
black scound'el."

And then, as they dismounted at the door of the saddle room in the big
barn, he added generously, "You scoot on up to the house, Kitty; I'll
take care of Midnight. It must be gettin' near supper time, an' I'm
hungry enough to eat a raw dog."

At which alarming statement Kitty promptly scooted, stopping only long
enough at the windmill pump for a cool, refreshing drink.

Mrs. Reid, with sturdy little Jack helping, was already busy in the
kitchen. She was a motherly woman, rather below Kitty's height, and
inclined somewhat to a comfortable stoutness. In her face was the gentle
strength and patience of those whose years have been spent in
home-making, without the hardness that is sometimes seen in the faces of
those whose love is not great enough to soften their tail. One knew by
the light in her eyes whenever she spoke of Kitty, or, indeed, whenever
the girl's name was mentioned, how large a place her only daughter held
in her mother heart.

While the two worked together at their homely task, the girl related in