Find Hermit Joe's son, John, who ran away to Texas twenty years ago. See an Osage orange hedge. See a broncho bursted (obviously changed over from "busted"). Find out for Mrs. Miller if cowboys do shoot at sight, and yell always without just and due provocation. See a mesquite tree. Inquire if any one has seen Mrs. Snow's daughter, Lizzie, who ran away with a Texas man named Higgins. Pick a fig. See a rice canal. Find out what has become of Mrs. Granger's cousin, Lester Goodwin, who went to Texas fourteen years ago. See cotton growing and pick a cotton boll, called "Texas Roses." See peanuts growing. Inquire for James Hunt, brother of Miss Sally Hunt. See a real Indian. Look at oil well for Mr. Hodges, and see if there is any there. * * * * * "Now if I can just fix all those people's names in my mind," mused Cordelia, aloud; "and seems as if I might--there are only four. John Sanborn, Lizzie Higgins, Lester Goodwin, and James Hunt," she chanted over and over again. She was still droning the same refrain when she fell asleep that night. CHAPTER III THE COMING OF GENEVIEVE Genevieve was to arrive in Sunbridge at three o'clock on the afternoon of the third of July. Her father was to remain in Boston until one of the evening trains. The Happy Hexagons, knowing Genevieve's plans, decided to give her a welcome befitting the club and the occasion. They invited Harold Day, of course, to join them. Harold laughed good-humoredly. "Oh, I'll be there all right, at the station," he assured them. "I've got Mrs. Kennedy's permission to bring her up to the house; but I don't think I'll join in on your show. I'll let you girls do that." The girls pouted a little, but they were too excited to remain long out of humor. "Don't our dresses look pretty! I know Genevieve'll be pleased," sighed Elsie Martin, as, long before the train was due that afternoon, the girls arrived at the station. "Of course she'll be pleased," cried Alma Lane. "She can't help it. I can hear her laugh and clap her hands now, when she sees us--and hears us!" "So can I," echoed Bertha. "And how her eyes will dance! I love to see Genevieve's eyes dance." "So do I," chorused the others, fervently. Sunbridge was a quiet little town in southern New Hampshire near the state line. It had wide, tree-shaded streets, and green-shuttered white houses set far back in spacious lawns. The station at this hour was even quieter than the town, and there were few curious eyes to question the meaning of the unusual appearance of five laughing, excited young girls, all dressed alike, and all showing flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. At one minute before three o'clock, a tall, good-looking youth drove up in a smart trap, and was hailed with shouts of mingled joy and relief. "Oh, Harold, we were just sure you were going to be late," cried Cordelia.