Both girls shook hands smilingly with their guest.
"I hope you will pardon me for appearing in such a disreputable condition," begged the lad. "I really am not fit to be seen."
His quaint way of putting it brought forth a general laugh.
"You need make no apology. We are all ranchers here. Even my daughters and my niece ride, and sometimes accompany the foreman on drives from one part of the ranch to another. As for my niece, though brought up in the East, she is a born cattle woman. There is hardly a cowman on the place who can ride better than she."
"Your man tells us that you are the best horseman in your outfit," said Mr. McClure.
"I don't think I quite deserve that compliment, sir," answered Tad. "But I am very fond of horses. I find, by kind treatment, one can do almost anything with them."
"My idea exactly," nodded Mr. McClure approvingly. "The cowpuncher doesn't look at it that way, however. He wouldn't feel at home on a horse that didn't break the monotony by bucking now and then. Did you ever ride a bucker?"
"Once. I expect to break one of the animals I understand we are to get from you."
His host whistled softly.
"You have a large contract on hand, young man. The ponies I am turning off are the worst specimens we ever had on the ranch. Some of them never had a bridle on, for the very good reason that no one ever has been able to get close enough to them to put bridles on. I hope you will not be foolish enough to try to break any of that stock."