f dismay, and he set down
the heavy suit-case he was carrying, and wiped his forehead with his
handkerchief.

"Have you been walking far?" Marjorie inquired sympathetically.

"Yes, I think I must have walked at least five miles already. My team
broke down, one of the wheels came off, and the man who was driving me
out to the ranch seemed to think the only thing to be done was to leave
the wagon with my trunk on it by the roadside while he returned to town
on horseback, to get another trap. He advised me to walk on, but I had
no idea of the distance. Will you please tell me if this is the shortest
way to the ranch?"

"It's the only way," said Marjorie, smiling, and thinking that this
tall, broad-shouldered man must certainly be "a tenderfoot." Her own
father thought nothing of a ten-mile tramp over the prairie.

"Then I suppose there is no help for it, but five miles--are you sure
it's as much as five miles?"

Marjorie nodded; she was trying to think of some way of helping the
stranger out of his difficulty. But it was finally he himself who put
into words the very suggestion she was going to make.

"I wonder if by any chance you young ladies happen to be going as far as
the ranch," he said, with a rather curious glance at the two figures,
sitting astride their ponies.

"We're going straight there now," said Marjorie, eagerly, "and if you
don't mind waiting, I'll ask Father to send a horse for you."

"You are very kind, but do you think he could possibly send a wagon as
well? I am not much of a horseman."

This certainly was a "tenderfoot," and no mistake, but Marjorie was too
polite to laugh.

"All right," she said, "I'll see about it, but it will take longer to
wait for a team to be hitched up."

"That can't be helped. I'm afraid I'm not equal to another five miles on
foot. Do you know Mr. Graham?"

Marjorie laughed.

"Of course I do," she said in her frank, friendly way; "he's my father."

"Your father!" repeated the gentleman, his face lighting up; "why, you
don't mean to tell me you are little Marjorie?"

"I'm Marjorie Graham, but I'm not very little. I'm five feet, three, and
I was fourteen last March."

"Well, you were about two feet, three when I last saw you," said the
gentleman, smiling; "so you must forgive me for not recognizing you at
once. Have you ever heard of your uncle Henry Carleton?"

With a joyous exclamation, impulsive Marjorie sprang from her pony and
leaving the faithful Rola