Mr. Ashe listened to the rather sketchy story she told him, filling in the outlines from his knowledge of her. When she finished, he leaned nearer, laying a hand over hers. “Sarah’s going out to the ranch with us if I have to kidnap her.”
The thought of Sarah being kidnapped sent Blue Bonnet off into a fit of laughter. “But,” she said presently, “it wouldn’t do, really, to pick and choose like that. The others would feel ever so hurt. They’re ‘We are Seven’s’ too.”
“Then we’ll corral the whole bunch. There’s room enough for them on the ranch, and if there isn’t, the one adjoining is in the market.”
“I wish we could! They’ve all been so nice to me, and we’ve had such good times together. But I’m afraid it’s impossible.”
“I thought it was a copy-book maxim that nothing was impossible.”
“You haven’t lived ten months in Woodford, Uncle Cliff.”
“The first thing is—whether you really want them all to go?”
“Indeed I do!”
“Then the next thing to do is to see how your grandmother feels about it. It may strike her as a pretty big proposition.”
“Grandmother won’t mind—she likes young people about. And if she says yes, I suppose you will allow their fathers and mothers some voice in the matter?”