With a cry of delight, the door was flung open and the girl embraced the kind old man who had trotted her on his knee when she was a baby and had granted her every whim, if he could, since she was grown. “Oh, Uncle Tex, where have you been ever since you ran away just because you didn’t want to take part in the ‘play-actin’?” the girl exclaimed. The old man told that he had been way up north on a sheep ranch. “But ah got wistful feelin’s to see my little gal,” he said, “and so ah’s come back home. They’re needin’ help up thar and they didn’t want me to leave but ah tol’ them as how ah would send a younger man to take my place if ah could find one.” Then Uncle Tex scratched his head in a puzzled manner, for he had suddenly thought of something. “Miss Virginia, dearie,” he said, “thar’s a parcel of men camped in the dry creek bottom a mile below here. They stopped me, but they let me go quick. They’re lookin’ for an outlaw from Texas, and course they knew as ah wasn’t him. Said they’d be up here in the mornin’ and ask yo’ fo’ breakfast. Wall, good night, Miss Virginia, dearie. Ah’s sure glad to be home.” When the old man was gone, Virginia began to dress hurriedly. “What are you going to do?” Margaret inquired. “Warn Tom!” was her reply. “Uncle Tex is here to protect us now and Tom must start for the north without an hour’s delay.” CHAPTER XXIX TOM’S SPEEDY DEPARTURE “I wish you would dress, Megsy,” Virginia said. “I would like you to accompany me.” Ten minutes later Virginia opened the door very quietly that she might not attract the attention of the old cow-man and together the two girls stepped out into the gathering darkness. “What a cold black night it is,” Margaret said as she drew more closely about her the woollen scarf that she had thrown over her shoulders. “Hark, what is that moaning sound?” “It’s the wind rising. I believe we are going to have a sand storm. Let’s creep low that we may keep hidden among the mesquite bushes. The house may be watched.” This they did until they were sheltered by a rise of grounds, then Virg said: “Take my hand now and we’ll race for the bunk house.” Margaret felt her hand being firmly grasped and then she was fairly dragged along the trail toward the smaller adobe where the cow-boys had their quarters. “Oh, Virg,” the eastern girl said with sudden terror, “Don’t go so fast. We might step on a rattlesnake.” “No danger of that,” the other responded. “This is February and the snakes are still asleep in their winter homes.” When they reached the bunkhouse Virginia darted to the side farthest from the dry creek and there she paused for breath. A moment later she called at an open window, “Tom! Tom! Come out please, quickly.” Puzzled by this summons at so late an hour, the lad hastily dressed and opened the door.