Blue Bonnets Ranch Party | Page 3

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.
"You're quite welcome. He's a mighty wise dog, Uncle Cliff--that's why I named him Solomon. You know I think--" Blue Bonnet went on sagely, "I think there is some trouble at the ranch,--because I saw the big box you sent with our trunks and it was labelled 'dangerous.' Now, be nice, and tell me what was in it."
"I understood that Miss Kitty was the inquisitive member of your Club," Uncle Cliff parried provokingly.
Blue Bonnet sighed. "Well, I can thank Uncle Joe for cutting us out of two whole days in New York. I'm sure Aunt Lucinda will be disappointed."
"Aunt Lucinda--?" echoed Mr. Ashe.
"Yes, you see it was this way: Aunt Lucinda gave me a list of things I ought to see in New York. Every day when you asked me 'what next?'--as you did, you nice fairy godfather--I chose the things I'd rather see and left the--the educational things for the last. You see the shops, the Hippodrome, Coney Island, Peter Pan and the Goddess of Liberty were so fascinating, and I'd wanted so long to see them, that-- Well, to face the bitter truth, Uncle Cliff, we left New York without one weenty peek in at the Metropolitan Museum!"
"Horrors!" Uncle Cliff looked properly stunned. Then he said craftily, "Keep it dark, Honey. Maybe we can bluff."
Blue Bonnet shook her head. "Nobody can bluff Aunt Lucinda--I ought to know! Why--Uncle Cliff--I believe we're there!"
And "there" they certainly were. While Blue Bonnet had been busily chattering, The Wanderer had drawn in to the Woodford station.
Half the population of the village was assembled on the platform, it seemed to Blue Bonnet as she sprang from the car steps. Grandmother and Aunt Lucinda she saw first, and back of them Denham, the coachman, bearing suitcases, umbrellas, magazines and wraps, besides holding on by main force to a leash at which Solomon was straining frantically. Beside him were Katie and Delia, on hand for a final farewell to Blue Bonnet and Mrs. Clyde. Then came Kitty and Doctor Clark; Amanda and the Parkers; Sarah and the whole crowd of Blakes, big and little; Alec and the General; Debby, and a collection of sisters, cousins, uncles and aunts that overflowed the platform and straggled clear out to the line of hitching-posts, where all of Woodford's family conveyances seemed drawn up at once.
The report of Blue Bonnet's ranch party had spread like wildfire through the town, and the going away of so many of its most prominent citizens to far-off Texas, had aroused quiet Woodford to a pitch of excitement equalled only by that of a prohibition election, or a visit from the President.
Blue Bonnet was swallowed up by the crowd the moment she alighted, and it was a full five minutes before she emerged, flushed and minus her hat, to ask breathlessly, "Oh, is everybody here?--I can't see anybody for the crowd!"
"No time to lose," warned Mr. Ashe. "We must pull out in ten minutes in order to reach Boston in time for the 5.17 to-night."
Even as he spoke, The Wanderer began to move.
"Uncle Cliff," cried Blue Bonnet in a panic, "they're going without us!"
"Just switching," soothed her uncle. "The Wanderer has to be on the other track so as to hook on to the train for Boston. That's due in five minutes. Get your good-byes said so that everybody can go aboard when she comes alongside."
During that five minutes while each girl was occupied with her own family, Blue Bonnet had a moment alone with her aunt. "It's a good thing we said our real good-bye before I went to New York, isn't it, Aunt Lucinda?" she asked, slipping her hand shyly into that of her tall, prim aunt. Somehow Aunt Lucinda had never seemed so dear as in this moment of parting. Perhaps it was the look as of unshed tears in her eyes, or the flush on her usually pale face that made her seem more approachable. Blue Bonnet could not tell exactly what it was, but there was a vague