"Yes; by all means," added Mrs. McClure. "Yes, Mr. Butler, we should love to have you," added Sadie. "Besides, we want to meet your friends," said Margaret. "And I am sure we should enjoy coming. It seems almost an imposition for four of us boys to camp out in your dining room at the same time," laughed Tad. "I assure you it will be doing us a favor," protested the rancher. "You will bring your Professor, also. We'll have a real family party." Tad somewhat reluctantly agreed to bring his companions, though he disliked the idea of going to so fine a place for dinner in their rough, weather-beaten clothing. The boy bade them all good-bye and strode off toward the corral, where the ponies were being roped preparatory to being taken over to the Miller herd. "Oh, Mr. Butler!" Tad wheeled sharply. Ruth Brayton was hurrying toward him. The lad lifted his hat courteously and awaited the young woman's approach. "Yes, Miss Brayton." "Tell me again who your foreman is." "Bob Stallings." "Stallings--Stallings. Where have I heard that name before?" mused the girl, staring at Tad with vacant eyes. "Are you sure it isn't Hamilton--Robert Hamilton?" "Quite sure," smiled the lad. "Do you know a cowboy or foreman by that name?" "No, I never heard the name before." Miss Brayton turned abruptly and hurried away. Tad heard her repeating the name of his foreman as she walked swiftly toward the ranch house. CHAPTER XVIII BREAKING IN THE BRONCHOS "My, but that was a job," laughed Tad, after they had reached camp again, with three wild bronchos in tow. They had staked the new ponies down on the plain to think matters over while the cowboys sat down to their noon meal. "They sure are a bad lot," agreed Big-foot Sanders. "Never seen worse ones. See that fellow, over there, don't even mind the pinch of that hackmore bridle. He's the ugliest brute in the bunch." "That's the one I'm going to break," decided Tad Butler, his eyes glowing as he observed the wild pitching and snorting of the staked animal. The pony was running the length of his rope at full speed, coming to a sudden halt when he reached its end, with heels high in the air and head doubled up under him on the ground. It seemed to the lad like unnecessarily harsh treatment, yet he knew full well the quality of the temper of these animals of the plains. "I'm afraid he'll break his neck," objected Tad. "Let him," snapped the foreman. "There's more where he came from." "By the way," said Tad, speaking to the Pony Riders. "I have an invitation for you fellows. I had forgotten it in the excitement of getting the new ponies to camp." "Where to!" asked Ned Rector indifferently. "To take dinner at the home of Colonel McClure." "That will be fine," glowed Walter. "But the question is, what are we going to wear?" laughed Tad. "We don't look very beautiful for a drawing room." "Drawing room?" inquired Ned Rector, with interest. "Did I hear you say drawing room?" "Yes."