CHAPTER IV
HEADED EAST
When Helen Morrell made up her mind to do a thing, she usually did it. A cataclysm of nature was about all that would thwart her determination.
This being yielded to and never thwarted, even by her father, might have spoiled a girl of different calibre. But there was a foundation of good common sense to Helen’s nature.
“Snuggy won’t kick over the traces much,” Prince Morrell had been wont to say.
“Right you are, Boss,” had declared Big Hen Billings. “It’s usually safe to give her her head. She’ll bring up somewhar.”
But when Helen mentioned her eastern trip to the old foreman he came “purty nigh goin’ up in th’ air his own se’f!” as he expressed it.
“What d’yer wanter do anythin’ like that air for, Snuggy?” he demanded, in a horrified tone. “Great jumping Jehosaphat! Ain’t this yere valley big enough fo’ you?”
“Sometimes I think it’s too big,” admitted Helen, laughing.
“Well, by jo! you’ll fin’ city quarters close’t ’nough—an’ that’s no josh. Huh! Las’ time ever I went to Chicago with a train-load of beeves I went to see Kellup Flemming what useter work here on this very same livin’ Sunset Ranch. You don’t remember him. You was too little, Snuggy.”