HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT



CHAPTER 1

Stranded on the Prairie.


"By George, look behind us! I fancy we are going to have a storm." Four
heads turned as if governed by one brain; four pairs of eyes, of varied
color and character, swept the wind-blown wilderness of tender green,
and gazed questioningly at the high-piled thunderheads above. A small
boy, with an abundance of yellow curls and white collar, almost
precipitated himself into the prim lap of a lady on the rear seat.

"Auntie, will God have fireworks? Say, auntie, will He? Can I say
prayers widout kneelin' down'? Uncle Redmon' crowds so. I want to pray
for fireworks, auntie. Can I?"

"Do sit down, Dorman. You'll fall under the wheel, and then auntie would
not have any dear little boy. Dorman, do you hear me? Redmond, do take
that child down! How I wish Parks were here. I shall have nervous
prostration within a fortnight."

Sir Redmond Hayes plucked at the white collar, and the small boy
retired between two masculine forms of no mean proportions. His voice,
however, rose higher.

"You'll get all the fireworks you want, young man, without all that