d she had a trunk full of
things for Lil. She also brought a colored woman to look after her, and
Mirandy has proved a blessing and a treasure."

"But the clothes didn't make themselves."

"No, and none of us made them, either, although Bud said he could sew,
and insisted upon trying. He cut up several yards of cloth, and at the
end of the week, when we saw the product of his needle, he narrowly
escaped lynching. If Lilian had not interceded for Uncle Bud, of whom
she is very fond, I'm afraid we'd have no little Buddy now. No, we sent
down to Omaha for a dressmaker and boarded her in town until she had Lil
all fixed up, as becomes the heiress of the La Garita Mines."

"Whose idea is this way of making the things?" demanded Stella, who was
looking Lilian over with critical eyes.

"Oh, we all had a finger in it. I sent away for a lot of fashion
magazines and things of that sort, and we sat up nights as a board of
strategy and picked out the sort of thing we wanted, and I reckon there
isn't a better-dressed kid in the State."

"I agree with you. Well, Ted Strong, you're a constant wonder to me.
Where in the world did you learn to do all the things you do so well?"

"The honeyed flatterer. Quit your joshing, Stella; hand it to Ben. He
likes it, and the thicker it is the more he can stand of it."

"Hello! Breakfast!" called Song from the veranda, and they all trooped
back to the living room to finish breakfast and talk about the things
they had passed through, and to lay plans for the coming round-up
festivities.

After breakfast Ted and Stella went out to the corral to look at the
saddle stock.

"Why, there's old 'Calamity Jane,'" cried Stella, as a bay pony came
trotting across the corral and put its velvet nose in the hand she held
out.

"Jane knows you, all right," said Ted.

"Sure. Why shouldn't she? I rode her all one season down here. I believe
she wants me to choose her for my own again. Do you, Calamity, old
girl?"

Calamity Jane, which had at one time been the wickedest and stubbornest
mare on the ranch, nickered and again rubbed Stella's hand with her
nose.

"Talk about your smart horses," said Stella. "Calamity can do everything
except talk. Who's been riding her?"

"Kit. He's wrangler, and he won't let any one on her. He's light, you
know, and he was saving her for you. You'll find that she hasn't been
spoiled at all."

"Then, if Kit has been riding her, she's all right, for if there ever
wa