will want to tumble into bed as soon as they can.”

Virginia looked at her other guests to see if the plan met with their approval. She was not long left in doubt. “Oh, goodie, I’d love to have supper with a real cowboy. My Cousin Bob will be green with envy when I write him about it.” Betsy was gathering up the spoons as she spoke. Soon the little procession approached the house.

Malcolm saw them coming and smiled. “I tell you, Lucky, it seems mighty nice to see that sister of mine once more. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I hope she won’t want to go away again.”

Lucky, having finished his supper, rose as the girls entered the long kitchen that was flooded with the late afternoon sun.

The middle aged cowboy spoke apologetically: “Miss Virginia, if yo-all will excuse me, Ah’ll turn in. Ah reckon Ah cain’t keep awake, an’ Malcolm here and me’s figgerin’ on hittin’ the trail again come sunup.”

When he was gone, Sing Long served the girls to heaping plates of steaming frijolies, generous slices of cornbread and tumblers brimming with creamy milk. This fare greatly delighted Betsy for it was very different from that to which she was accustomed.

Malcolm told Sing Long that he, too, might go, as they no longer needed him. When they were alone, the giant of a lad smiled about at the girls, who were eagerly awaiting the beginning of his story.

“Now,” Virginia said when the door closed behind the Chinaman, “what happened first?”

“We heard about it last Monday,” Malcolm began, “Lucky and I were loping slowly along down near the station. We were on the outlook for strays when we saw little Davie Wells riding toward his home from the direction of the Three Sand Hills as though a stampede of cattle was about to overtake him.”

“‘What’s up with the kid, d’ye reckon,’ Lucky asked me, and I replied, ‘By the way he keeps looking back over his shoulder, you’d think he was being pursued, but I don’t see anything chasing him.’

“When the lad was near enough for us to see his face, we knew, without his telling us, that he was very much excited about something.

“‘Hi-o! Davie, has there been a train robbery?’ I shouted when he was near enough to hear. He evidently had not seen us, but upon hearing my voice, he wheeled his pony and galloped toward us. I repeated my question.

“‘Nope,’ 

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