“The twins are crying,” broke in Polly. “Let’s put them to sleep, girls. It’s our last chance. Come on, Buddy boy.”
Buddy trotted across the aisle sleepily, and Ruth held out her arms to Columbia.
“That’s real neighborly, thanks,” said Mr. Timony, with his slow, surprised smile, and he settled back for a quiet chat with the baby’s mother.
“It’s fun being neighborly, isn’t it, Polly?” Ruth said under her breath. Polly only looked her answer. She had had more fun being neighborly on this trip West as a second-class tourist than ever before. She wondered what Aunty Welcome and the Admiral would say if they could have seen her now.
CHAPTER XI
THE RIDE TO THE RANCH
“We reach Deercroft at four forty-five,” Jean had said; but long before the scheduled time, suit-cases were strapped and waiting, and hats pinned in place, while the girls watched from the open windows eagerly, as the train swung out over the broad stretches of land.
“Who was it said, ‘My heart loves wide horizons’?” Ruth asked once. “They’re out here, aren’t they, Miss Murray? I just think we’ve caught up with one range of hills, and we make a turn and find a lot more waiting for us.”
Now, it was long, swinging miles of rolling land without a living thing in sight; then suddenly they would pass a hill-slope covered with masses of sheep, yellow and gray like time-worn rocks, and as motionless, apparently. Then again, the train would dip into a bit of sparse woodland, unlike the forests back in Virginia. As Polly said, the trees out here all looked lonesome.
“They don’t seem to be friendly, or even related to each other. Each has its own little patch of earth, and stands alone.”