"When I got tired of being Elizabethed. Everybody thinks Blue Bonnet
suits me better, except Aunt Lucinda--on occasions."

"And the next wish? They're stacking up."

"I reckon it was about the Sargent prize in school. I wanted Alec
Trent to win it--and he did. And next I wished to pass my school
examinations--"

"And even that miracle was achieved!" said Uncle Cliff, pinching her
cheek.

"And, finally, I wanted to go back to Texas, and, at the same time, I
wished I didn't have to leave Grandmother and Alec and the girls. That
might seem a contrary pair of wishes, but it doesn't daunt Godfather
Ashe. He straightway makes a private car arise from--from what, Uncle
Cliff?"

"Tobacco smoke," promptly supplied Mr. Ashe, with a reminiscent smile
on his lips.

"Why tobacco smoke?" asked Blue Bonnet wonderingly.

"I taught Maldon to smoke when he was a young chap visiting out our
way, and we've been friends ever since. The private car seems to have
grown out of that," replied her uncle.

"I see," Blue Bonnet nodded. "But don't tell Aunt Lucinda,--I fancy
she doesn't approve of smoking."

"So I've noticed," rather grimly rejoined Mr. Ashe. Blue Bonnet's prim
New England aunt had not suffered him to remain long in ignorance of
her disapproval of tobacco in any form.

"There's one thing I don't understand at all," Blue Bonnet knitted her
pretty brows. "And that is what was in Uncle Joe Terry's telegram the
other day. Won't you tell me, Uncle?"

"Nothing much,--only that I must be back at the ranch Monday evening
without fail," answered Uncle Cliff with an air of evasion.

"There's some deep reason, I can just feel it. You mean well, Uncle,
but I just hate secrets." Blue Bonnet laid a coaxing hand on her
uncle's arm.

"Secret indeed!" scoffed Uncle Cliff, avoiding his niece's eye.

"You can't pretend a bit well," Blue Bonnet assured him gravely. "You
look just the way my dog Solomon does when he's pretending to be
asleep--and can't keep his tail from wagging!"

"Thank you!" said Uncle Cliff with well-assumed indignation.

"You're quite welcome. He's a mighty wise dog, Uncle Cliff--that's why
I named him Solomon. You know I think--" Blue Bonnet went on sagely,
"I think there is some trouble at the ranch,--because I saw the big
box you sent with our trunks and it was labelled 'dangerous.' Now, be
nice, and tell me what was in it."

"I understood that Miss Kitty was the inquisitive member of your
Club," Uncle