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Updated: June 1, 2025


Incapable of withstanding such a rebuff, Rankin slouched across the room and stood in the open doorway. A three-seated ranch-wagon, drawn by a pair of ill-matched but brisk little broncos, was just coming along the street. The heavy wheels creaked and groaned over the snow, and then stopped before the court-house.

Two strong horses were hitched to the ranch-wagon, and the gay party drove away, leaving Mrs. Brewster waving her hand as they rumbled down the road past the Cliffs. The colored stones reminded Polly of Kenneth's story, and she turned to Eleanor and said: "I wonder if he wrote home to ask his mother about her brother?" "Even if he did it will be fully a fortnight before he can have an answer.

Brewster, facetiously, as the load of trouble rolled from his heart. Sary was soon perched beside the rancher on the high spring seat of the lumbering ranch-wagon, tenderly holding a half-dead rubber plant. On that drive, her host heard more of every family history of the ranchers for miles around than he had ever dreamed of knowing even if he lived to be a hundred.

"Just a moment," suggested McCloud mildly, as Sinclair hastened past the goods piled in the wagon-road. "Whose team is that, Sinclair?" The road followed the right of way where they stood, and a four-horse team of heavy mules was pulling a loaded ranch-wagon up the grade when McCloud spoke. Sinclair answered cordially. "That's my team from over on the Frenchman. I picked them up at Denver.

Polly and Eleanor were busy helping Barbara pack her five trunks to have them ready for the ranch-wagon to take to the station on Saturday, when Tom offered to drive in and meet the train from Denver. This done, and Tom on his way, the two girls wondered what next they could do until the return of the party from Oak Creek. "I say!

The cake was distributed, and the vexed but vanquished morning caller jabbed a hat-pin through her rusty toque and pulled her jet-trimmed shoulder cape tightly over her back, before bowing haughtily to Mrs. Brewster. Not until the ranch-wagon turned the edge of Rainbow Cliffs did Mrs.

You don't mean we shall camp over night?" exclaimed Barbara. "Of course! We could never travel back and forth each day, as it is a long ride and tough roads for the horses to pull a heavy ranch-wagon," returned Mr. Brewster. "I don't see why you won't have automobiles out here!

Should they offer strenuous objections against Eleanor's plan to live in New York, he would have one cudgel, at least, to use against them. The sinking sun was bathing Rainbow Cliffs in a glory of color before the echo of the lumbering ranch-wagon was heard sounding across the crater. Then every one ran out upon the terrace to watch the home-coming of the weary boys.

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