By and by the old farmer's wife and daughters, having made their little purchases in the store, came out to the wagon ready to start home.
Evelyn came out with them and was on the best of terms with all three. She shook hands with Farmer Jones and told him that his wife and daughters had promised to come over and spend the day with her in the near future, and that if he put up any objection to that he would probably get himself into trouble.
"All right, miss," said he. "I'll let 'em come and will drive 'em, too."
"Do so," she replied. "We'll set you down at the head of the table and see that you get plenty to eat."
"Waal, miss, don't offer me any jerked beef, for I can't eat it."
"Neither can I," she laughed, "and we never have it on our table. We'll give you fish, prairie chicken, quail, jack-rabbit and that genuine old Southern dish, bacon and greens."
"That's it. You can bet on my coming, and right soon, too. Bacon and greens is a dish fit for a king, but you haven't got any on this ranch, I reckon."
"No, we'll buy that in town, as we do sugar and tea and coffee, and if you are fond of coffee, brother and Mr. Fearnot can certainly make the best that you ever tasted."
"Gosh! I do love it."
Fred and Terry assisted the mother and her two daughters into the wagon, and the girls they literally lifted off their feet by catching them around the waist and lifting them up as though they were little five-year-old-children. The girls blushed and laughed, and Evelyn really enjoyed their confusion.