Hastily fastening the black velvet band with its dangling jet fringe below her stiff linen collar, she cast a parting glance at the oval mirror and skurried down the stairs, not stopping for such small matters as gloves or cap or even her beloved riding whip. Ordinarily, she would not have budged without the whip. It had been a Christmas present from Ernest and was her special pride. Her haste was in vain. After one look, her Mother sent her back for cap and gloves. "I do not wish my daughter riding around bareheaded like some half wild thing. I don't mind on the ranch, but when you go abroad I wish you to look like a lady." Jane reluctantly obeyed and did not forget the whip this time. She had a fresh rebuff when she reached the road. Instead of the saddle horses she expected to see, Dr. Morton and Ernest were awaiting her in the spring wagon. "Why, Father, I thought you said to put on my riding habit." "Maybe I did. But never mind, jump in just as you are--it's getting a little late." Chicken Little tried to hide her disappointment. She maintained a dignified silence until they had crossed the ford and Ernest turned the horses toward Captain Clarke's. "Oh, it's at the Captain's." Her Father nodded and began talking carelessly to Ernest about putting the orchard in clover another year. She saw there was no information to be had, until he was good and ready. Ernest took pity on her, however, just as they turned in the Captain's gate. "In exactly six minutes you will see the surprise, even if you don't recognize it." Chicken Little strained her eyes half expecting to see Katy or Gertie appear miraculously from nowhere. But they drove into the door yard without seeing anything or anybody that could possibly interest her. The Captain was evidently watching for them. He helped her down from the high wagon in his most courtly manner. "I am consumed with curiosity to know whether you have pried the secret from that brother of yours. I infer you have from your habit." "Habit?" Jane glanced swiftly from her host's quizzical face to her father and Ernest. They were both smiling broadly. "Oh, it has something to do with horses--but----" She never finished the sentence for at that moment one of the Captain's hands appeared leading two Indian ponies, one a red and white piebald with a red blanket and side saddle; the other a black, with a blue blanket and a Mexican cowboy's equipment. She stared at the horses and she stared at the Captain, not daring to even hope what had come into her mind. Captain Clarke took the bridle off the piebald and held down his hand for her foot. "Up with you, I have persuaded your Father to share his children with me to the extent of letting me add something to your pleasure and that of your guests this summer. Ernest, however, has left me his debtor in advance, for he has not only finished breaking these in to the saddle but he has tamed the worst-tempered colt on the place as well."