"Yes, I got her cards. Pa sent them. He writes oftener than the others do;
and he came out once and stayed a month on the ranch with me. That was
while mother was in Europe. Where are you stopping? The Shoshone, I
suppose."

"No, at a quieter place,--Mrs. Marsh's, on the same street."

"Oh, I know Mother Marsh. I went there when I first came out, and had
caught the mountain fever, and she was ever so kind to me. I'm glad you
are there. She's a nice woman."

"How far away is your ranch?"

"About sixteen miles. Oh, I say, Clover, you and Phil must come out and
stay with us sometime this summer. We'll have a round-up for you if you
will."

"What is a 'round-up' and who is 'us'?" said Clover, smiling.

"Well, a round-up is a kind of general muster of the stock. All the
animals are driven in and counted, and the young ones branded. It's pretty
exciting sometimes, I can tell you, for the cattle get wild, and it's all
we can do to manage them. You should see some of our boys ride; it's
splendid, and there's one half-breed that's the best hand with the lasso I
ever saw. Phil will like it, I know. And 'us' is me and my partner."

"Have you a partner?"

"Yes, two, in fact; but one of them lives in New Mexico just now, so he
does not count. That's Bert Talcott. He's a New York fellow. The other's