This wound up Ruth Fielding’s visit to Lighthouse Point. The fortnight of fun was ended all too soon. She and Helen and Tom, and the rest of the visitors, started for home, all promising, if their parents and guardians agreed, to meet Jane Ann Hicks and her uncle a week later, in Syracuse, ready for the long and delightful journey across the continent to Bullhide, Montana.
“Well, we certainly did have some great times,” was Tom’s comment, after the last goodbyes had been spoken and the young folks were homeward bound.
“Oh, it was lovely,” answered his twin sister. “And think of how we helped Nita–I mean Jane Ann.”
“Most of the credit for that goes to Ruth,” said Tom.
“Oh, no!” cried the girl from the Red Mill. “Yes, we certainly had a grand time,” she added. “I love the bounding sea, and the shifting sands, and the lighthouse, and all!”
“Oh, I do hope we can go out to that ranch!” sighed Helen. “I have always wanted to visit such a place, to see the cattle and the cowboys, and the boundless prairies.”
“And I want to ride a broncho,” put in her brother. “They say some of ’em can go like the wind. Ruth, you’ll have to ride, too.”
“Take your last look at the sea!” came from Heavy. “Maybe we won’t get another look at it for a long time.”
All turned to look at the rolling waves, glistening brightly in the Summer sun.
“Isn’t it lovely!”