Taking a canteen from his saddle the cow-boy forced water between the lips of the girl while Virginia bathed her face, and soon to the joy of the watchers, Margaret opened her eyes. Then she reached out her hand to her friend as she said faintly, “It was all mv fault, Virginia, dear. I should have told you that I did not know how to ride, really. I had never been on a horse, except one that nothing could frighten, but you are such a fine horsewoman I thought you might think me a coward if I told you that I was really afraid to ride Comrade, but I’ll never ride him again, never, never, never.” Virginia’s heart leaped with joy, for after all she would not have to give up the horse she so loved, the one her dear father had given her for her very, very own. “Star is far more gentle,” she said, as she and Cy assisted Margaret to her feet, then remembering her manners, she added, “Margaret, permit me to introduce Slick Cy. He is one of Mr. Slater’s cow-boys.” Impulsively Margaret held out her hand as she said graciously, “Thank you, Mr. Slick Cy, for coming to my rescue.” The young giant of a cow-boy, being unused to girls, was very shy and he shifted from one foot to another as he said, “Miss Margaret, ah reckon as you’d better ride home with me on my horse.” “Yes, do, Megsy,” Virginia urged. “It won’t be safe for you to even ride Star until you have had a few lessons.” Margaret smiled at her friend as she remarked: “Now I have an adventure about which I can tell Babs in my very next letter.” CHAPTER XIII THE DESERT HUT It was the nineteenth of December and the morning was bright and sparkling. Margaret Selover stood on the wide veranda of the ranch house, her eyes glowing with appreciation as she gazed across the shimmering white desert and toward the mountains over which hung a blaze of blue and gold. “Ho, Virginia,” she called to the girl, who, hatless, came up from the chicken yard, where she had been to scatter a breakfast to her feathered pets, “it is hard for me to realize that it is nearly Christmas and not a snow flake to be seen.” “When we go up in the mountains after our Christmas tree, you will see plenty of snow,” Virginia assured her. “Slim tells me that when he rode over the Seven Peak range yesterday, it was snowing and blowing a regular blizzard.” “Oh, Virg, how nice! Are we going to have a truly Christmas tree? I haven’t had one since mother and dad and I were all together.” The other girl nodded. “Yes, indeed. We have a big tree every Christmas for our own family and for the Slaters. One year we have it here and the next to the Bar S Ranch. That makes quite a party, for they have four cow-boys and we have two.” Then after a thoughtful moment, Virginia added, “How I do wish that some kiddies lived nearby. It would be heaps more fun to have children to skip around a Christmas tree wouldn’t it, but there isn’t a chick or child for ten miles around.”