ttle curls at
her temples as she moved down the street light as a deer. Little jets of
laughter bubbled from her round, birdlike throat. In her freshly
starched white dress, with its broad waistband of red and purple ribbon,
the girl was sweet and lovely and full of mystery to Ridley.

A little man with a goatee, hawk-nosed and hawk-eyed, came down the
street with jingling spurs to meet them. At sight of Ramona his eyes
lighted. From his well-shaped gray head he swept in a bow a jaunty,
broad-brimmed white hat.

The young girl smiled, because there were still a million unspent smiles
in her warm and friendly heart.

"Good-morning, Captain Ellison," she called.

"Don't know you a-tall, ma'am." He shook his head with decision. "Never
met up with you before."

"Good gracious, Captain, and you've fed me candy ever since I was a
sticky little kid."

He burlesqued a business of recognizing her with much astonishment. "You
ain't little 'Mona Wadley. No! Why, you are a young lady all dressed up
in go-to-meet-him clothes. I reckon my little side-partner has gone
forever."

"No, she hasn't, Uncle Jim," the girl cried. "And I want you to know I
still like candy."

He laughed with delight and slapped his thigh with his broad-brimmed
ranger hat. "By dog, you get it, 'Mona, sure as I'm a foot high."

Chuckling, he passed down the street.

"Captain Jim Ellison of the Rangers," explained Ramona to her companion.
"He isn't really my uncle, but I've known him always. He's a good old
thing and we're great friends."

Her soft, smiling eyes met those of Arthur. He thought that it was no
merit in Ellison to be fond of her. How could he help it?

"He's in luck," was all the boy said.

A little flag of color fluttered in her cheek. She liked his
compliments, but they embarrassed her a little.

"Did you fix it all up with Dad?" she asked, by way of changing the
subject.

"Yes. I'm to go to Fort Winston to get the money for the beeves, and if
I fall down on the job I'll never get another from him."

"I believe you're afraid of Dad," she teased.

"Don't you believe it--know it. I sure enough am," he admitted promptly.

"Why? I can twist him round my little finger," she boasted.

"Yes, but I'm not his only daughter and the prettiest thing in West
Texas."

She laughed shyly. "Are you sure you're taking in enough territory?"

"I'll say south of Mason and Dixon's line, if you like."

"Really, he likes you. I can tell when