Upon reaching the ranch house the girls went at once to their rooms to prepare for the midday meal, but when the Chinese gongs rang, they sallied forth arm in arm and were confronted by a young giant of a lad. “Malcolm Davis, are you home at last?” Virginia fairly flew at her dearly loved brother, and was caught in his arms. Then turning, the smiling young man, held out his right hand to Margaret. “I feel as though I ought to be introduced to my ward all over again,” he said with his pleasant smile. “I have been away at the mines for so long that I have hardly had time to become acquainted with her. Has she been a dutiful ward?” Virginia smiled at her friend as she replied, “Oh, Malcolm, you can’t know what a comfort Margaret is to me. We two girls do have the nicest times together.” Then, when they were seated about the table, Slim having been detained at the corral and Lucky still being out on the range, Malcolm remarked, “Slim tells me that Tom is not here now. Did you have cause to dismiss him from our service, sister?” “No, indeed, Buddie,” was the earnest reply. “Tom proved to be as trustworthy as you believed that he would, but, for some reason, he seems to be a fugitive from justice as he told you. We advised him to go farther north, but he would not leave the V. M. until we girls were well protected. That very night Uncle Tex returned telling us that Mr. Wilson up Red Riverton way needed help on his sheep ranch and so we urged Tom to go. We have had two splendid letters from him. He seems to be enjoying his work up there and he likes the Wilson family just ever so much. Do you know them, Buddie?” “Yes, indeed I do. I often stayed all night with the Wilsons when I was one of dad’s range riders, and when I had gone that far north in search of strayed cattle. Of course the cowmen and the sheep ranchers are supposed to be bitter enemies, but my theory is that there is room enough in our big state for all of us to live and let live. The Wilsons are the nicest kind of a family, Virg. Mrs. Wilson is a dear, mothering sort who reminds me of a hen with wide, warm wings that can always take one more chick in out of the cold. Dad thought very highly of Mr. Wilson, and then, there are two sons. One of them, Harry, is about my age and there is a younger chap. I think he is nearly sixteen. He was fonder of books than Hal and so they sent him East to school. I can’t recall his name.” “Was it Benjamin?” Virginia asked. “Yes, that’s it. Benjy, his mother called him. I haven’t ridden that far north for two years at least. However, I hope that I will get up that way some day. I like to keep in touch with such kindly neighbors.” Malcolm then told the girls about the progress made at the mine.