It was mid-afternoon when the girls gathered with their sewing in the big cool living-room. “Barbara, will you go to the kitchen porch and look toward the Seven Peak Trail and see what you can see.” Babs complied with Virginia’s wish but returned shaking her head. “I looked through the glass, Virg, in all directions,” she said, “but I saw nothing at all that was moving.” “Hark!” Virginia exclaimed, sitting up and listening intently, “Megsy, dear, didn’t you hear a hallooing just then, or is it something my own ears hear that isn’t real?” Babs and Margaret hurried to the window and opened it wide. Again they heard the hallooing, close at hand. “Two horses are coming,” Megsy exclaimed excitedly, “and yes, surely the rider in the lead is Malcolm and on the horse following there are two, so it must be Tom, though his hat is drawn down so far I cannot see his face.” Virginia joined the others. “It is! It surely must be Tom,” she cried, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes aglow with hope. The girls turned as the door burst open and Malcolm entered, followed truly enough by the lost Tom, looking pale and worn. Before anyone could speak, a glad cry rang out, and everyone turned to look at Babs whose face was radiant with sudden joy. “Peyton! My brother!” “Little sister! God is good!” The lad held the girl close and there were tears in his eyes. Then he reached a hand out to Virginia, and Margaret, watching, knew by the way that he looked at the western girl, that he too cared. Half an hour later, when Tom had recounted his recent thrilling adventures, Virg rose, saying that since they must be about starved, she would prepare the evening meal. “I wish the others would return in time for supper,” Babs said. “Speak of angels and you hear the rustle of their wings,” Margaret sang out, holding up a finger as she spoke. Without could be heard the galloping of horses’ feet. “Rather say, ‘bad pennies are sure to turn up,’ Malcolm exclaimed laughingly, adding with sudden seriousness, “but that is hardly fair, for a finer chap than Harry Wilson it would be hard to find.” Then, as he glanced out of the window he informed the others. “It is Hal, and his younger brother, I judge, is with him. They are dismounting down by the corral. Mendoza Quintano is racing to meet them. He just adores Harry. When Hal sees the Mexican lad, he will, of course, know that Tom has been found. Sure enough, here he comes sprinting at top speed.” A second later, Harry Wilson sprang through the door which Malcolm had opened for him, and going to Tom, he embraced him as tenderly as he would a brother. Later that afternoon Babs and her brother were alone; Virginia having thoughtfully arranged it, for she felt sure that the reunited brother and sister would have much to say to each other just by themselves. “Peyton,” Babs said, slipping her hand in his, “you haven’t asked me about father.” “Dad doesn’t care about me,” the boy said sorrowfully, “I wish he did.”