Luckily Rusty Pete was in town and would bring the mail if there was any. Virginia, as she went about her household tasks that morning, skipped often to the wide front veranda and looked up the mesa. A huge cactus growing at the top of the trail stood like a silent sentinel and around this a horse and rider soon appeared. As the girl hoped, it was one of their two faithful cow-boys. “Good morning, Rusty Pete,” she called, as he rode alongside of the wide, shady porch. “Have you letters for me?” “I reckon I have, Miss Virginia. ’Pears to me a couple is stowed away somewhar’s.” As he spoke, the cow-boy thrust a lean, brown hand into his deep leather pocket, then, with a sudden smile that wonderfully illumined his rugged wind and sun bronzed face, he removed his wide sombrero and drew forth two letters that were very unlike each other in appearance. “Didn’t pack the pouch ’long this time,” he explained, “so put ’em thar for safe keepin’.” The girl laughed. “Thank you, Rusty Pete,” she said, and then the long, lank cow-boy rode on toward the corral. After glancing at the name in the upper left hand corner of the lilac scented and tinted envelope, Virginia uttered a little excited ejaculation, and, catching her wide hat from the top step, she raced down the trail to the fenced-in enclosure where Malcolm was busy filling the trough near the windmill for the yearlings were soon to be driven in from the range. “What ho?” he called when he saw the figure flying toward him. The girl waved the two unopened letters and Malcolm, equally interested, vaulted the bars and stood at her side. “Has our ward written?” he inquired merrily. “Is she eager to be the adopted daughter of an elderly rancher?” There was a shade of anxiety in the violet eyes that were lifted to him. “Brother,” she said, “I wonder if we did wrong to deceive Margaret. Of course it was merely to be a temporary arrangement. If she comes, Uncle Tex is to play the role of elderly guardian, that is, if he can be persuaded to do so, then you, as cow-boy, and I, as housekeeper, will have a splendid opportunity to become acquainted with our ward and find out what manner of girl she really is.” While Virginia had been talking, she had opened the tinted envelope. One glance at the very short note and her merry laughter pealed forth. “Brother, Margaret actually refuses to come. Well, we surely may thank whatever kindly fate has delivered us from having this young tornado in our home.” Virginia handed the letter to Malcolm as she spoke. The other long white envelope she glanced at casually, and, believing it to be the usual monthly report from their lawyer’s office, she did not open it, but waving farewell to her brother, who had again vaulted the bars, Virginia returned to the house and to her morning tasks. It was half an hour later before she recalled the long legal looking envelope.