“She remained at the house to see that everything was in readiness when you got there,” answered Songbird Powell, as he shook hands with his son.
Close to the automobile stood a number of horses, all saddled. On one sat a bronzed cowboy, who grinned broadly at the boys and tipped his hat rather awkwardly to Mrs. Rover and the girls.
“This is my foreman, Joe Jackson,” said Songbird Powell. “Joe, this is Mr. and Mrs. Rover, and these are the Rover boys and their sisters, and this is my son and another of his chums. I guess you’ll get better acquainted a little later on,” and he smiled broadly.
“Who’s to ride on horseback?” questioned Andy quickly, “We can’t all get into that machine.”
“You boys can all ride with Joe,” answered Spouter’s father. “I thought you’d rather do that than anything else. The girls and the others can ride with me.”
“How do you know I don’t want to ride on horseback, Uncle John?” cried Martha gayly. She often called this intimate chum of her father “uncle.”
“No, Martha, you’d better ride with us now,” put in Mrs. Rover hastily. “You can do your horseback riding later on.”
“Oh, I was only fooling, Aunt Grace,” the girl replied.
“I’m just crazy to see Big Horn Ranch, Uncle John,” came from Mary.
“Well, I hope you’ll like it,” returned Songbird Powell. “I want every one of you to have the best times ever while you’re here.” His eyes glistened. “We ought to have a regular old-fashioned reunion.” And then, unable to control himself, he broke out into a bit of his old-time doggerel.