Louisa knitted on composedly. “Can’t always have luck,” she remarked. Bud stumped off to find Christine, and Ira sat down on a stump near to where Louisa had taken her place on the step. “Cy Sparks was makin’ all sorts of inquiries about you the other day,” he said. “Was he?” Louisa’s hands trembled and she dropped a stitch. “Yes, and you said your dad’s name was Cy Sparks, too.” “So it was.” “Names runs in families sometimes. Shouldn’t wonder if you’d find out he’s kin of yours. He’s a queer old dick, Cy is. Folks look at him suspicious and think he’s up to all sorts of tricks, but nobody ain’t caught him yet, so I say a good bit of it’s talk. Must have something to talk about, ye know. Where’s Blythe?” Louisa jerked her head in the direction of the garden where Alison stood talking to the young man. “She don’t appear to see you.” “Humph! that ain’t surprisin’. He’s studyin’ law. Nice boy, but he’s awful young.” “Alison ain’t a Methusalem,” returned Louisa. “No, she ain’t. Young things jest natchelly like to flock together when spring comes. What ye makin’, Louisa?” “Jest knittin’ stockin’s. I ain’t one to be idle.” “No, you ain’t. I took notice to that. You don’t know how many times when I was down there feedin’ on frijoles and jerked beef I thought of your cookin’, Louisa, and when I took sick, I swan, if I could hev had somethin’ you had cooked I believe I’d got right well. I jest y’arned for a plate of your flapjacks an’ I’m a y’arnin’ yet.” “Stay to supper an’ you shall have ’em,” said Louisa, rolling up the stocking she was knitting. Bud and Christine were off to look after something about the place and Alison was listening to Blythe’s pretty speeches. He and Neal seemed more like home folks, though both adopted a certain style of free and easy speech common to the country. Old Pedro employed himself close by. He did not mean that his charges should want the influence of his protecting presence, and always stood guard like a faithful watch-dog. He was puzzled at the escape of the prisoner, but Hero was safe and it was evident that neither Christine nor Alison were disposed to investigate further. Indeed, there seemed no way of their discovering who had stolen the other horses since their only chance of doing so had vanished with the man who had so mysteriously broken his bonds and fled. Pedro felt, however, that there should be a closer watch set and that his young ladies needed a greater vigilance, for what might they not do after such an attempt at the offensive as Alison and Louisa had shown? CHAPTER VII WHEN IRA WAS “SKEERED” It was not many days after this that Cyrus Sparks made an orderly appearance with horse and wagon. At the time of his arrival Ira Korner and Bud Haley were present. “Here comes old Cy Sparks,” said Bud. “What the mischief does he want?” Ira threw a swift glance at Louisa who had risen to her feet. “He’s come for me,” the girl exclaimed, and a moment after wished her words unsaid.