om the cook. They were
still petting the affectionate animal when Colonel Gresham walked in.

"Ah, I've caught you!" he growled. "Now I know what makes my horse
have indigestion!"

Patricia, looking a bit scared, stopped short in her feeding; but Lone
Star nosed down to the piece of bread in her hand.

David and Polly chuckled, understanding the Colonel better, and
Patricia, seeing his laughing eyes, at once recovered herself.

"Who wants to go to ride with Lone Star and me?" Colonel Gresham
asked.

There was a duet of "I's" from the girls. David said nothing.

"Sorry my buggy will permit of only one invitation. We shall have to
draw cuts, shan't we?"

Three lengths of straw were made, the Colonel arranging them as if he
were used to the business. The children eyed them with lively
interest.

"You choose first, Patricia," Polly said, and they watched
breathlessly while her fingers wavered in front of the big, steady
hand before daring to pull.

Finally she plucked at one. It was the longest of all.

"Oh, dear!" she lamented.

"Now, Polly!" bade David.

"That will leave you Hobson's choice," she laughed; but he motioned
her on, and she caught at the nearest one.

It was an inch shorter than the remaining straw, and she smiled up at
the Colonel.

"Miss Dudley, may Lone Star and I have the pleasure of your
comradeship for the next hour?" he invited, bowing low.

"I shall be very happy to go," she laughed, sweeping him a little
curtsy.

Presently the carriage was ready, Polly and the Colonel jumped in, and
Patricia and David sent merry good-byes in the wake of Lone Star's
flying feet.

"I can't help being glad I won," confessed Polly, drawing a long
breath of delight at the drive in store for her.

Colonel Gresham smiled responsively, tucked the linen duster a little
closer, asked her if she were quite comfortable, and then began a
little story in the life of his favorite horse.

As they passed through the pleasant streets, between front dooryards
banked with flowers, the talk after a while led quite naturally to
climbing roses for the Colonel's own house.

"If only you could see Mrs. Jocelyn's roses!" Polly wished. "There
couldn't be any lovelier ones."

She told him of the great single Silver Moons, and pictured them on
his own piazza, until he said he must surely have some.

"Oh!" cried Polly, the thought suddenly popping into her head, "why
can't we go round to Mrs. Jocelyn's and see hers?