The girls had reached home just in time, for hardly had they removed their sombreros when there arose a shouting without and a pounding of horses’ feet.
“Good, the boys are back,” Babs cried running to throw open the wide front door.
“Ohee, what a bulging mail bag,” Betsy who had closely followed shouted gleefully. “There must be a million letters or more in it.”
Malcolm swung from his tired horse and giving it a friendly slap, bade it go to the corral with its companions. Lucky and Slim, as he knew, would attend to its needs.
“We had a close call.” Malcolm tossed his sombrero on the table, placing the mail bag beside it, then sank wearily in his favorite grandfather chair.
“What happened?” Virg inquired with interest. “Did that wild steer try to lead a stampede even with the drag on?”
“No, not that,” her brother replied. “The poor creature seemed to have lost all desire to make a break for freedom. The close call was that when we drove the herd into the corral at the station, Mr. Wells came running up and said that he had just received a wire that the cars were to be taken on by a freighter that was due to arrive two hours sooner than scheduled, and didn’t we work though.
“Then was the time the young steer might have made trouble had he but known. However, he didn’t attempt it, but walked up into his prison as meekly as a sheep would have done.” Then the boy laughed, “I suppose you’ll think I’m foolish, but I certainly had a decided impulse at that moment to give him his freedom. It came over me how I would rejoice, were I in his place, if I once again found myself roaming where I would, out on the range with only the blue sky above me and the distant mountains for walls. Luckily the freighter came along before I had carried out my sentimental inclination, else our check would have been that much less, Virg, when it comes from Chicago.”
Margaret, remembering what Virginia had said about hating to raise cattle just to have their freedom taken from them, realized that something of the same sentiment was in the heart of the brother, although he had not fully realized it as the girl had.
“You look just too weary for words, Malcolm,” Megsy said, leaping up from the window seat. “I’m going to make you some lemonade.”