The lad acknowledged his introduction to the Indian girl and heard her saying, “You are the son of our nearest neighbor to the north? We Papagoes often climb to the summit of the mountain overlooking your ranch, Mr. Wilson, but we never descend on the other side. Our pilgrimages always take us to the south it would seem.” Then to Virginia she added, “It is high sun, so let us go to my home and lunch together.” Turning to the group of unkempt little Indian girls who still seated on the ground, were watching wide-eyed she said something in their own tongue. The listeners concluded that it was a dismissal of the class for the morning, and they were right, for with joyful little cries such as delighted puppies might have uttered, the Indian children sprang up, then to the utter amazement of the watching lad, they surrounded the smiling Babs who, reaching out her arms, gathered in as many of them as she could. Benjy’s first impulse was to draw Barbara away from the embrace of the “Indian brats,” but when that girl looked up at him, her pretty flower face aglow, he realized that they weren’t wild, uncouth creatures to her, but just little children who loved her, and who were begging her in their own queer language to come and play with them “Ring-around-a-rosie.” When Winona had interpreted their request, Barbara exclaimed merrily, “The rest of you may prepare the lunch. Until it is ready I’ll romp with the kiddies.” “May I play, too?” Benjy heard himself asking. Babs nodded gaily, and while the three older girls went indoors to prepare a simple meal of cold corn bread, milk and fruit, Barbara and Benjy skipped about with the shouting little Indian children in a circle which was ever widening because of the arrival of other youngsters who were attracted from their dooryards by the sounds of merriment. It was 2 o’clock before the riders, having said farewell to Winona and to the children, left the walled-in village and started on the long four-hours’ ride toward V. M. Uncle Tex had seen them coming from afar. In fact, the old man had gone every hour to the window to look toward the sand hills to see if his Miss Virginia was returning. What joy there was in that faithful heart when the girl whom he so loved leaped from her horse and embraced him. “Dear Uncle Tex,” she said, “is there any news? Tell me quickly what has happened? Did Malcolm come this way?”