“Mike and Tom Melville, here”—he indicated two young men in their early twenties. “And that’s all of us, except Kirk Smith, who happens to be taking a swim. And, of course, Art and me—; now you know where you stand.”
“No we don’t!” objected Alice, laughingly. “I don’t remember a single name besides yours and the two young ladies.”
“Well, you soon will. And we call each other by our first names entirely. So if you people had any idea of getting ‘Miss,’ you’ll be left!”
“We hadn’t—we wouldn’t like it a bit!” Lily reassured them.
The girls declined an invitation to join in the games with the boys in the corner of the porch, and seated themselves near the two young women. They were attractive girls, of twenty and twenty-two, of the healthy, athletic type. Their clear complexions and bright eyes proclaimed them living exponents of this simple, out-door life.
“We’re awfully glad to have some other girls,” said Irene, the older of the two. “Although it has been fun to be the only ones, in a way, too.”
“You’ll love it here!” said Maud. “We wish we could stay the whole summer, but we’ve been here since the first of June, and we have to leave the beginning of August, to join our parents.”
“If they could only come here!” sighed Irene. “I’d rather be here than anywhere else in the world!”
“That sounds good!” cried Marjorie, happily. She loved to be with people who were contented.
“Is horseback-riding really so wonderful?” asked Doris, who was still a little doubtful about the pleasures of a whole summer on the ranch. She had been eager to be with the girls once more during the vacation, but, had she been consulted, she would have chosen some more civilized resort.