“Hullo, folks!” she cried. “Goodness! don’t you get up till noon here in town? I’ve been clean out to your city park while I waited for you to wash your faces. Uncle Starkweather! how be you?”
She had grabbed the hand of the amazed gentleman and was now pumping it with a vigor that left him breathless.
“And these air two of your gals?” quoth Helen. “I bet I can pick ’em out by name,” and she laughed loudly. “This is Belle; ain’t it? Put it thar!” and she took the resisting Belle’s hand and squeezed it in her own brown one until the older girl winced, muscular as she herself was.
“And this is ’Tense—I know!” added the girl from Sunset Ranch, reaching for the hand of her other cousin.
“No, you don’t!” cried Hortense, putting her hands behind her. “Why! you’d crush my hand.”
“Ho, ho!” laughed Helen, slapping her hand heartily upon her knee as she sat down. “Ain’t you the puny one!”
“I’m no great, rude——”
“Ahem!” exclaimed Mr. Starkweather, recovering from his amazement in time to shut off the snappy remark of Hortense. “We—we are glad to see you, girl——”
“I knew you’d be!” cried Helen, loudly. “I told ’em back on the ranch that you an’ the gals would jest about eat me up, you’d be so glad, when ye seen me. Relatives oughter be neighborly.”
“Neighborly!” murmured Hortense. “And from Montana!”