ded cheerfully.

"Just talk," Jack answered. "Isn't it dreadful, Frank, but I have never
liked sitting-still things in my life, reading or sewing or quiet games.
Maybe my being sick will give me a chance to improve my mind," she added
more courageously, seeing a shadow cross Frank's face.

At this moment Elizabeth Harmon's low governess cart drawn by a small
ranch pony and driven by Uncle Zack came trotting down the road which
led from the Lodge to the rancho.

"Come along, Jack, do. I'll take good care of you," Frank urged. "Uncle
Zack and I can lift you in the cart and make you comfortable and it will
do you lots of good to see the old creek and find out that you can get
about the ranch even in this poor way."

"You are awfully good, Frank," Jack said gratefully, sitting up
straighter than usual, so that one of her sofa cushions slid out on the
floor. Uncle Zack had stopped the pony in front of the porch, gotten
out, and Carlos was holding it. Jack put out both arms toward Frank and
Uncle Zack as naturally as a child, though a few weeks before there was
nothing she felt she needed anyone's help to do. "Put me in the cart,"
she begged wistfully. "I am sure it won't hurt me and I'd rather see the
sun glisten like gold on Rainbow Creek than any other sight in the
world."

Frank drove slowly across a bridge that had been recently built over
Rainbow Creek and along the path on the opposite side, where the girls
used so often to ride. The sun was shining and the muddy water looked to
Jack's adoring and homesick eyes like a stream of pure gold. Carlos sat
on the floor of the cart and Jack was arranged like an Indian princess
on one of the long side seats with her shawls and cushions around her.

"Oh, my goodness!" Jack said suddenly and turned so white that Frank
reined in his pony and looked almost as pale as his companion.

"You don't feel ill, Jack, please say you don't," he begged boyishly,
"or Mr. Colter and Miss Ruth will never forgive me for running off with
you like this. We can go right back home now if you like."

Jack shook her head, smiling. "Oh, no, there is nothing the matter. I am
just beautifully comfortable and happier than I have been in a long
time," she insisted. "But I was thinking that one morning Olive and Jean
and I were riding along here, and over by the big rock we saw the fellow
called 'Gypsy Joe' washing some stones and gravel in the creek. There
was nothing so remarkable in his performanc