"I ain't. I'm just _sure_--and that's all right," retorted Reddy, cheerfully. "And mighty glad I shall be to get there, too! I'd be plum locoed here in another month. You see, I've got some money now, and I know a nice little place I can buy cheap, to start in for myself. Martha'll take Jim Small's girl, 'Mandy, for company and to help. You see we've got her already roped." "She wants to go, then?" "Dyin' to. It all depends on you now, Miss Genevieve." "All right; I'll be there," promised the girl, laughingly, as Reddy, watched by Nancy's disapproving eyes from the kitchen window, swung himself into the saddle and galloped down the driveway. A little later Genevieve met Mrs. Kennedy and Miss Chick at the foot of the front walk. "I've taken my music lesson and done my hour, and I'm off on missionary work now," she beamed brightly. "I knew you'd let me go, so I didn't wait till you came home." "Missionary work?" frowned Miss Chick. "Why, what do you mean?" questioned Mrs. Kennedy. Genevieve chuckled. "It's to teach Mrs. Granger that Texas has something besides bucking bronchos and prairie fires. You see, Reddy wants to take her West, and she's afraid. She thinks those things, and Indians and buffaloes, are all that grow there. So I'm going to tell her a thing or two," she finished with a nod and a smile. Just how successful Genevieve was with her missionary work perhaps she herself did not realize until nearly a fortnight later, when Cordelia Wilson overtook her on the way to school one morning. "Genevieve, Genevieve, please," panted Cordelia. "I want you to do some missionary work for me! Will you?" Genevieve turned in surprise. "'Missionary work!' What _do_ you mean?" Cordelia laughed and colored. "Well, it's what you did for Mrs. Granger. Reddy told me. He said you called it missionary work--and that _'twas_ missionary work, too. You know they're to start next week, and they're all so happy over it!" "Yes, I know," nodded Genevieve; "and I'm so glad!" "So am I," sighed the other, fervently. "You see, Reddy being my find, so, I felt responsible; and of course I ought to feel that way, too. Just think--what if they weren't happy over it!" "But they are," smiled Genevieve. "What's the use of 'if-ing' a thing when it just _is_ already?" "What?" Cordelia's eyes were slightly puzzled. "Oh, I see," she laughed. "What a funny way you do have of putting things, Genevieve Hartley! Why don't you say such things as that in your notes for the magazine?" "In the magazine?--mercy! Why, Cordelia, they're _printed_!" "Well, what of it?" maintained Cordelia. "What of what?" chirped a new voice; and Tilly Mack hurried up from behind them. Cordelia looked plainly disappointed; but Genevieve turned with a light laugh. "My magazine notes, Tilly. Cordelia doesn't like them," she explained. "Oh, but Genevieve, it's only that I want you to write as you talk," supplemented Cordelia, in distress.