Spasmodically she clutched Mr. Hartley's arm.
"What—are—those?" she questioned, with dry lips.
Mr. Hartley gave an indifferent glance ahead.
"Cowboys, I should say," he answered.
Cordelia caught her breath. At that moment a shot rang out, then another, and another.
Mr. Hartley looked up now, sharply, a little angrily. The indifference was quite gone from his face.
It was then that Genevieve's voice came clear and strong from the wagon behind.
"It's the boys, Father—our boys!" she called. "I know it's the boys. I told them I'd promised the girls a welcome, and they're giving it to us!"
"By George! it is our boys," breathed Mr. Hartley. And the scowl on his face gave way to a broad smile.
"Is it really all—fun?" quavered Cordelia, breathlessly.