Ken, who had been hiding for a moment, bounded in after them, grinning his delight as he said, “I thought maybe the kits would like to come to the party, and if I’d had a pink ribbon, I’d have brought Blessing in, too.”
“Goodness! I’m glad you didn’t have,” Sue exclaimed. “I’ve been brought up with pigs, but I don’t like them, even yet, leastwise not for pets.”
Sylvia seemed to be watching for some one. Every few minutes she would run to the window and look up toward the cañon road.
“I wonder if she’s ’spectin’ a s’prise, too?” Carol said softly to Dixie. That little maid declared that she didn’t know what Sylvia was watching for. Then, at Miss Bayley’s suggestion, games were played, such as hide-the-thimble and drop-the-handkerchief. When every one was laughing and shouting with interest and excitement, there came a loud knocking at the door.
Sylvia put her hand on her heart and cried, “Oh! Oh! I do believe it’s come, and I had forgotten to watch.”
She leaped to open the door, and the others crowded round, wondering what they were to see. It was no less a personage than Mr. Hiram Tressler, the stage-driver.
“Howdy!” he began, his leathery face wrinkling in a pleasant smile. “This here’s one of the boxes, Miss Clayburn, but the other one that yer pa sent over is too heavy for me to cart down the trail all alone. Maybe now Ken and Ira’d better come up and help me h’ist it out o’ the stage.”
“It’s a birthday present from me.”
The boys sprang forward with alacrity, and followed the old driver back up the steep trail. While they were gone, Sylvia, her face flushed with pleasure, handed a long, narrow box to Carol. “It’s a birthday present from me,” she said.