Polly hesitated between the main house, and the corral, but the call of the ponies was too strong to be resisted, and she went down to the corral. When Don and Jean came down from the kitchen, they found her perched up on the topmost rail, at one side, talking to the ponies, and trying to coax them to her.
“We thought you were still asleep,” Jean said. “Good-morning.”
“Good-morning,” answered Polly, happily. “The rest are. I wanted to get up and take a look out. Oh, Miss Murray, isn’t that pony over there a dear, the one with the white nose? He’s the only one that notices me, and when I call him, he lays back his ears, and shakes his head.”
Don went into the corral, and threw a halter over the pony’s head.
“This is Jinks,” he told her. “Used to be called High Jinks, but we cut it short to Jinks. Don’t you want to ride him?”
It was a temptation. Polly looked longingly at the pony, but someway, it did not seem loyal to the others to start the fun before they were ready.
“No, thank you, Don, I think I’ll wait,” she said. “But could I have that one to ride, when we start?”
“Guess so,” responded Don, in his stolid way. When he talked he got off each sentence first, and rested before he took up the next. “Father said he was going to let each of you have the use of the same pony all the time you stayed; then you’d get used to the pony, and the pony’d get used to you. He has five safe ones picked out, and Jinks is one of them.”
“Well, I’d love to have Jinks unless one of the other girls wants him too.”
“Finding’s keeping,” said Don, placidly. “I’ll put your brand on him, Miss Polly.”