"No one but Uncle Dick; I like that," said that gentleman rejoining them. "Are you going to have me called a nobody at the very outset, Polly?"
"Oh, I didn't mean——" began Molly covered with confusion.
"Oh, yes you did; you said it when you thought my back was turned," interrupted her uncle.
Polly began to pound him with her fist. "Quit your nonsense, you great big, long-legged, old tease," she said. "You know that wasn't what Molly meant. You aren't a bit nice to her; you began to tease her the very minute you set eyes on her. You'd better be pretty good to her or I won't let you take me home again; so there, sir."
Uncle Dick gave her a playful shake. "You'll be homesick enough in a week from now to go home by yourself," he warned her.
"She'll do no such thing," cried Molly, gathering courage from Polly's example. "She'll just love it here, I know. Come along, Polly; we'll get home first."
But, in spite of their trying to run ahead, Uncle Dick's long legs overtook them, and with a hand, which they could not shake off, on the shoulder of each, he rushed them along so fast that they were breathless when they reached the front gate. Molly's mother was at the door to greet them. She gathered travel-stained little Polly into her arms. "Dear Polly, I am so glad we are to have you with us at last," she said. "Are you very tired, dearie? Was it a tiresome journey?"
"It was rather tiresome at the last," Polly acknowledged, "though at first I liked it for there were some very kind ladies who came as far as St. Louis, but the rest of the way I did get tired of sitting still all day. I am dreadfully cindery and black, Aunt Betty, so I am afraid you can't see at all what I look like. I did try to get off some of the worst about an hour ago, but I suppose I am still very black, as black as Manuel."
"Who is Manuel?" asked Molly.
"He's the blackest one of the Mexicans who work for father," Polly replied.