“But I don’t!” the words leaped to Alta’s lips; she bit them back, however, hurried again to the kitchen to regain her poise, and a few moments later came back singing: ’Tis the West, the craggy West, that calls, that calls me; ’Tis the sage and sego-lily land I love, With its amber skies, its crystal streams, its mountains, Where among the canyon wilds we rove, we rove. “Hello!” said her uncle; “where did that new song come from?” “Oh, they sang it last night at the party. Like it?” “Sounds pretty; sing some more.” “I don’t know it yet; but I’ll get Mary to teach it to me and then I’ll sing it all for you. It’s a real Western song.” “Do, little one, I’d like to hear it,” the old colonel replied. Then he lapsed for a while into quiet thought. The strain had waked the echoes in his heart. CHAPTER X COMPANIONSHIP If food and clothes and kindness were all that is needed in this old world, Alta Morgan had all she needed. But there is one vital need that these comforts, good as they are, cannot fill, and that is true companionship. Her uncle gave her fatherly love and protection, but his thoughts were forever with his fine stock and broad hayfields, or in the memories of the stirring days gone by--the war and the wild West. Aunt ‘Liza, the housekeeper, was a good-natured, bread-and-butter sort of woman, who could stand up under a ton of such work as washing and cooking. She could set hearty meals and keep the ranch house clean and tidy; but her conversation was limited, for the most part, to “Land sakes!” and “Law me!” Her thoughts seldom went beyond the “vittles.” Alta’s heart hungered for higher things. If she could have found a girl to chum with, one of like tastes with her, she might have been satisfied; but she could not. Sally was jolly enough, big-hearted and wholesome, but she lacked refinement. She could work like a steam engine all day, singing her way through great stacks of clothes to be washed, or big meals for hungry haymakers. She was a helpful, hearty, romping ranch girl, just the kind that Aunt ‘Liza liked. And she was also a great favorite with the fellows, with whom she would dance till morning, but whose ears she would box as quick as lightning if they grew too smart. She could joke with the whole crowd of them and hold her own, but the girl was as pure as she was frank and free. A stranger might have taken her seeming boldness for rudeness or worse, but let him make the slightest step toward evil, he would be checked like a flash and forfeit forever her heart’s hospitality.