Dorothy explained. Another—a third—letter had come from Lance Petterby. He had identified Garry Knapp as the Dimples Knapp he had previously known upon the range. Knapp was about to sell a rundown ranch north of Desert City and adjoining the rough end of the great Hardin Estate, that now belonged to Major Dale, to some speculators in wheat lands. The speculators, Lance said, were “sure enough sharks.” “First of all have our lawyers out there make Mr. Knapp a much better offer for his land—quick, before Stiffbold and Lightly close with him,” Dorothy suggested. “Oh! I’ve thought it all out. Those land speculators will allow that option they took on Garry’s ranch to lapse. What is a hundred dollars to them? Then they will play a waiting game until they make him come to new terms—a much lower price even than they offered him in New York. He must not sell his land to them, and for a song.” “And then?” asked the major, his eyes bright with pride in his daughter’s forcefulness of character, as well as with amusement. “Have our lawyers bind the bargain with Mr. Knapp and ask him to come East to close the transaction with their principal. That’s _you_, Major. Meanwhile, have the lawyers send an expert to Mr. Knapp’s ranch to see if it is really promising wheat land if properly developed.” “And then?” repeated her father. “If it _is_,” said Dorothy, laughing blithely, “when Garry shows up and you and Aunt Winnie approve of him, as I know you both will, offer to advance the money necessary to develop the wheat ranch instead of buying the land. “That,” Dorothy Dale said earnestly, “will give him the start in business life he needs. I know he has it in him to make good. He can expect no fortune from his uncle in Alaska, who is angry with him; he will _never_ hear to using any of my money to help bring success; but in this way he will have his chance. I believe he will be independent in a few years.” “And, meanwhile, what of you?” cried her aunt. “I shall be waiting for him,” replied Dorothy with a smile that Tavia, had she seen it, would have pronounced “seraphic.” “Major! did you ever hear of such talk from a girl?” gasped Aunt Winnie. “No,” said her brother, with immense satisfaction, and thumping approval on the floor with his cane. “Because there never was just such a girl since the world began as my little captain. “I want to see this wonderful Garry Knapp—don’t you, Sister? I’m sure he must be a perfectly wonderful young man to so stir our Dorothy.” “No,” Dorothy said slowly shaking her head. “I know he is only wonderful in my eyes. But I am quite sure you and Aunt Winnie will commend my choice when you have met him—if we can only get him here!” CHAPTER XXIII NAT JUMPS AT A CONCLUSION All this time Tavia and Nat were having anything but a happy life. Nat would not have admitted it for the world, but he wished he could leave home and never appear at The Cedars again until Tavia had gone.