Blue Bonnet's Ranch Party

"I know," she confessed. "But it seems as if we'd never get to Woodford. This is the longest-seeming journey I ever took--even if it is in a private car." Then, fearing to appear inappreciative, she added quickly: "But I do think it is mighty good of Mr. Maldon to let us take his very own car. I can just see the We are Sevens' eyes pop right out when they see this style of travelling." Blue Bonnet's own eyes roamed over the luxurious interior of The Wanderer, dwelling with approval on the big, swinging easy chairs, the book-case cunningly set in just over a writing-desk, the buffet shining with cut glass and silver, and the thousand and one details that made the car a veritable palace on wheels.

Blue Bonnet had been spending a few days in New York with her uncle, who had insisted that she should have a little "lark" after her long months in school. Now, in a private car belonging to one of Uncle Cliff's friends, they were on their way back to Woodford, there to gather up Grandmother Clyde, Alec Trent, and the other six of Blue Bonnet's "We are Seven" Club, and bear them off to Texas for the summer.

"I reckon Sarah Blake and Kitty Clark aren't very used to travelling?" suggested Uncle Cliff, more to draw out Blue Bonnet than with any consuming desire for information.

"Used to travelling! Why, Uncle Cliff--" Blue Bonnet shook her head emphatically--"not one of the other We are Sevens has ever so much as seen the inside of a Pullman in all her life!"

Mr. Ashe hid a smile under his moustache. The fact that Blue Bonnet's own introduction to a Pullman car had occurred just nine months before, seemed to have escaped the young lady's mind.

"Well, well," ejaculated Blue Bonnet's uncle, "they've some experiences ahead of them, to be sure!"

"Oh, Uncle,"--Blue Bonnet was struck with a sudden fear,--"do you suppose they will all be ready to go? We're two whole days earlier than we said we'd be--"

"They'll be ready, don't you worry. Your grandmother is not one of the unprepared sort, and the girls don't need much of a wardrobe for the ranch. Besides, I wired them explicit directions--to meet The Wanderer and be ready to come aboard immediately. We shall have only a few minutes in Woodford."

Blue Bonnet settled back in her red velvet reclining chair and shut her eyes. Slowly a smile wreathed her lips.

"What's the joke, Honey?"

Blue Bonnet looked up with dancing eyes. "Benita!" she laughed. "Won't she be just--petrified, when she sees seven girls instead of one? And can't you imagine the boys--"

"Benita had better not get petrified this summer," interrupted Uncle Cliff. "She has to do some tall hustling. I've wired Uncle Joe to get extra help while the ranch party is in session. If they can get old Gertrudis from the Lone Star Ranch--she's the finest cook in the state of Texas. And her granddaughter might wait on table."

"Oh, I do think a ranch party is the grandest thing in the world," cried Blue Bonnet. "I've read of house parties, but they must be downright tame compared with this kind of a party. And it's not to last just over a week-end either, but two whole months! Why, Uncle Cliff, any ordinary man would be scared to pieces at the prospect."

"But I'm not an ordinary man, eh?" Mr. Ashe looked pleased as a boy as he put the question.

"Well, I reckon not! You're a fairy godfather. You grant my wishes before they're fairly out of my mouth. And I seem to have plenty of wishes. Just think, Uncle, how many things I've wished for since my last birthday!"

"First," said Uncle Cliff, "you wished to go away from the ranch."

Blue Bonnet nodded assent. "Because I was--afraid--to ride. Doesn't it seem ridiculous, now I'm over that silliness? But oh, how I did wish I could get over being afraid! That was about the only wish you couldn't grant, Uncle Cliff."

"That wish was never expressed, Honey--don't forget that. Maybe I could have helped even there," Mr. Ashe suggested gently.

"I know, it was my own fault. But I was--ashamed, Uncle Cliff. You don't suppose--" Blue Bonnet's face clouded, "you don't think, do you, that the fear will come again when I get back where I saw Jose--dragged?" She shut her eyes and shuddered.

"Nonsense, Honey. That fear died and was buried the day you rode Alec's horse, Victor. A good canter on Firefly over the Blue Bonnet country will make you wonder that such a feeling was ever born."

"Dear old Firefly! Won't I make it up to him though! Isn't it queer how many of my wishes have come true? It makes me feel almost--breathless. I no sooner got through wishing I could leave the ranch and go East and be with Grandmother--than I woke up in Woodford. And I wanted--thought I wanted--to be called Elizabeth. Blue Bonnet became Elizabeth!"

"A real lightning change artist," murmured Uncle Cliff.

"And I wanted to go to school. Granted. I wanted to know a lot of girls, and behold the We are Sevens!"

"And when was it you changed names again?" Uncle Cliff asked slyly.

"When I got tired of being Elizabethed. Everybody thinks Blue Bonnet suits me better, except Aunt Lucinda--on occasions."

"And the next wish? They're stacking up."

"I reckon it was about the Sargent prize in school. I wanted Alec Trent to win it--and he did. And next I wished to pass my school examinations--"

"And even that miracle was achieved!" said Uncle Cliff, pinching her cheek.

"And, finally, I wanted to go back to Texas, and, at the same time, I wished I didn't have to leave Grandmother and Alec and the girls. That might seem a contrary pair of wishes, but it doesn't daunt Godfather Ashe. He straightway makes a private car arise from--from what, Uncle Cliff?"

"Tobacco smoke," promptly supplied Mr. Ashe, with a reminiscent smile on his lips.

"Why tobacco smoke?" asked Blue Bonnet wonderingly.

"I taught Maldon to smoke when he was a young chap visiting out our way, and we've been friends ever since. The private car seems to have grown out of that," replied her uncle.

"I see," Blue Bonnet nodded. "But don't tell Aunt Lucinda,--I fancy she doesn't approve of smoking."

"So I've noticed," rather grimly rejoined Mr. Ashe. Blue Bonnet's prim New England aunt had not suffered him to remain long in ignorance of her disapproval of tobacco in any form.

"There's one thing I don't understand at all," Blue Bonnet knitted her pretty brows. "And that is what was in Uncle Joe Terry's telegram the other day. Won't you tell me, Uncle?"

"Nothing much,--only that I must be back at the ranch Monday evening without fail," answered Uncle Cliff with an air of evasion.

"There's some deep reason, I can just feel it. You mean well, Uncle, but I just hate secrets." Blue Bonnet laid a coaxing hand on her uncle's arm.

"Secret indeed!" scoffed Uncle Cliff, avoiding his niece's eye.

"You can't pretend a bit well," Blue Bonnet assured him gravely. "You look just the way my dog Solomon does when he's pretending to be asleep--and can't keep his tail from wagging!"

"Thank you!" said Uncle Cliff with well-assumed indignation.