“Well, them that don’t want to go can stay here,” Jane Ann said, quickly. If anything was needed to enlist her in the cause it was the opposition of The Fox. “I’ll see what Uncle Bill says.”
“But, will it be dangerous?” demanded the more careful Madge.
“I’ve ridden at night,” said Jane Ann, proudly. “Haven’t I, Jimsey?”
“Just so,” admitted the cowboy, gravely. “But a whole bunch o’ gals might make the critters nervous.”
“Too many cows would sure make the girls nervous!” laughed Bob, grinning at his sister.
But the idea once having taken possession of the minds of Ruth and her girl friends, the conclusion was foregone. Uncle Bill at first (to quote Jane Ann) “went up in the air.” When he came down to earth, however, his niece was right there, ready to argue the point with him and—as usual—he gave in to her.
“Tarnashun, Jane Ann!” exclaimed the old ranchman. “I’ll bet these yere gals don’t get back home without some bad accident happening. You-all are so reckless.”
“Now Uncle Bill! don’t you go to croaking,” she returned, lightly. “Ain’t no danger of trouble at all. We’ll only be out one night. We’ll go down to Camp Number Three—that’s nearest.”
“No, sir-ree! Them boys air too triflin’ a crew,” declared the ranchman. “Jib is bossing the Rolling River outfit just now. You can go over there. I can trust Jib.”
As the rest of the party was so enthusiastic, and all determined to spend a night at Number Two Camp on the Rolling River Range, Mary Cox elected to go likewise. She declared she did not wish to remain at the ranch-house in the sole care of a “fat and greasy Mexican squaw,” as she called the cook.