? I baked it all myself in Bill
Johnson's oven!"

"Oh, her pie is done!" cried Laddie.

"Come on! Let's get some!" added Russ.

Then the two boys, forgetting all about Margy sleeping in the Indian
carriage, ran out of the field, leaving the ponies behind them, and
leaving their little sister also.

"Is it a real pie?" asked Russ, as he reached the ranch house, in front
of which stood Rose.

"Course it is," she answered.

"And has it got a crust, and things inside, like Norah makes?" Laddie
wanted to know.

"Course it has," declared Rose. "Come on, I'll give you some."

They went out to the kitchen where Bill Johnson was busy. He greeted the
boys with a laugh.

"That little sister of yours is some cook!" exclaimed the cook. "She can
make a pie almost as good as I can, and it took me a good many years to
learn."

"Let's see the pie!" demanded Russ.

"Here 'tis!" exclaimed Rose. "We set it out on the window sill to cool,"
and she brought in what seemed like a very nice pie, indeed.

And it was good, too, as the boys said after they had tasted it. True,
it was made of canned peaches, but then you can't get fresh peaches on a
Western ranch in early summer. Canned ones did very well.

"Could I have another piece?" asked Laddie, finishing his first.

"Well, a little one," said Rose. "I want to save some for Margy---- Oh,
where is Margy?" she suddenly cried. "I forgot all about her, and Mother
said I was to watch her! Oh, where is she?"

Rose started up in alarm, but Laddie said:

"Margy is all right. She came over where me and Russ--I mean, Russ and
I--were riding our ponies, and we made an Indian carriage for her," and
he explained what they had done.

"But where is she now?" Rose demanded.

"She's asleep over there," Russ said slowly, and pointed to the big
field.

"Let's go and get her, and we'll take her this piece of pie," proposed
Laddie. "If she doesn't want it I'll eat it."

"No, I will!" cried Russ. "You've had two pieces."

"Margy will want it all right!" declared Rose. "She likes pie. I'm going
to make another some day."

Carrying Margy's piece of pie, the three little Bunkers went over to the
field where the ponies had been left. On the way Russ told Rose more
about the queer Indian carriage he had made.

"Will it hold me?" Rose asked.

"Yes, and I'll give you a ride after Margy wakes up," Russ promised.
"I'll get some more poles for Laddie's pony and he can ride Vi and I'll
ride yo