aren't any very pressing jobs on hand--we must cut out cattle to-morrow
for trucking, but to-day seems fairly free. Have you any ideas on the
subject of how you'd like to spend it? I've letters to write for a
couple of hours, but after that I'm at your disposal."

Norah wrinkled her brows.

"There are about fifty things I want to do," she said. "But most of
them ought to wait until Jim comes home." She thought for a moment. "I
don't want to miss any more time with Bobs than I have to--could we ride
over to the backwater, Dad, and muster up the cattle there? You know
you said you were going to do so, pretty soon."

"I'd nearly forgotten that I had to see them," Mr. Linton said,
hastily. "Glad you reminded me, Norah. We'll have lunch early, and go
across."

Norah's morning was spent in helping Mrs. Brown to compound Christmas
cakes--large quantities of which were always made and stored well before
Christmas, with due reference to the appetites of Jim and his friends.
Then a somewhat heated and floury damsel donned a neat divided riding
skirt of dark-blue drill, with a white-linen coat, and the collar and
tie which Norah regarded as the only reasonable neck gear, and joined
her father in the office.

"Ready? That's right," said he, casting an approving glance at the trim
figure. "I've just finished writing, and the horses are in."

"So's lunch," Norah responded. "It's a perfectly beautiful day for a
ride, Daddy--hurry up!"