Uncle Tex saddled Comrade for her, and then stood watching as his beloved “gal” cantered away toward the mesa. She turned to wave to him when she reached the sentinel cactus which stood with two branches outstretched like defending arms that were covered with long prickly thorns.
She drew rein when she reached the highest point and sat on her red-brown pony watching the glory of the setting sun. At last when the golden light had left all but the highest mountain peaks, and deep shadows were purpling the canons, she beheld silhouetted against the after glow, a horseman approaching at a gallop.
Believing it to be her brother, she rode down the trail to meet him. Malcolm, she realized, was hilariously excited about something, for every now and then he snatched off his sombrero and waved it to the waiting girl.
“News! Great news!” he shouted as he drew near.
“What is it?” Virginia asked as she wheeled her pony about and side by side they rode toward home through the deepening dusk.
“I’ll give you three guesses.” This had been their way of telling news items to each other from their earliest childhood.
“Oh brother, don’t make me guess it this time. I just know that it is something of unusual interest,” the girl implored.
“It is.” This in Malcolm’s most tantalizing manner. “Well, I’ll give you a hint. It’s something about the coming of our young tornado.”
“Oh.” Virginia’s expression brightened. “Have you heard of someone who will escort her from the East?”
“Righto, Sis, you’re doing splendidly, but who?”