"It's a shame Carita has to go back and slave on that old farm," Blue Bonnet declared, as she looked after the little figure holding on to the baby with one hand and waving her handkerchief in the other. "It seems selfish of us to be having a whole summer of fun when she's only had two or three days," said Sarah. "Sarah talks as if it's downright wicked for any of us to be having a good time," Kitty retorted. "Maybe you think one of us ought to change places with Carita?" she challenged Sarah. "Sarah is the only one of us that's unselfish enough to do such a thing!" Blue Bonnet exclaimed warmly; and Sarah sent her a grateful glance. They were in a part of the country that Blue Bonnet called "the other side of the hills,"--a land of sheep-ranches, for the most part; rather barren and level, unlike the rolling green prairie of the cattle-country she loved. They could see the Judson's wagon winding its way across the plain, until only a blur of dust marked its course towards the horizon. "Let's hurry," said Blue Bonnet, "I promised Grandmother we'd surely be back for lunch." "It isn't your turn to cook, is it?" asked Kitty. "No,--it's my turn to eat!" And Blue Bonnet, urging Firefly, was off at a lively clip towards camp. "Please stop, Blue Bonnet," panted Kitty after a few minutes of this sort of going. "I've a dreadful pain in my side." Blue Bonnet good-naturedly fell back with her, and the rest swept past them with a chorus of taunts for being "quitters." Both girls looked after Comanche and his rider with something like wonder in their eyes. Sarah was riding like a veteran; it was plain that she and Comanche understood each other at last. "Sarah's coming on, isn't she?" said Kitty. "Coming?--I think she's arrived!" Blue Bonnet exclaimed. "She can thank me for picking out Comanche for her," remarked Kitty; she preferred herself to be the object of Blue Bonnet's approbation and could not be roused to much enthusiasm on Sarah's account. "Considering your motive, Kitty-Kat, I'm not so sure Sarah owes you any gratitude," laughed Blue Bonnet. Suddenly she gave an exclamation. "Why, there's a lamb,--I wonder if it's dead." "Where?" asked Kitty. Blue Bonnet pointed to a spot some distance off the road, but Kitty's city-bred eyes could make out nothing. Just then there came a feeble bleat, and in a second Blue Bonnet had slipped from the saddle and handed the reins to Kitty. "Hold Firefly a minute, please. That _is_ a lamb!" Kitty obediently held the unwilling Firefly, while Blue Bonnet hurried in the direction of the bleat. A moment later she stooped, and when she straightened up, there was a small woolly object in her arms. "It's too little to travel and the mean old mother's gone off with the flock," Blue Bonnet said, coming up with the deserted baby. "What are you going to do with it?" demanded Kitty helplessly.