"I forgot. I wish you could come." The passing shadow on her face was sunshine to Sandy. Molly went into the house and he opened the telegram. It was from Brandon, as he expected.
Thanks. Coming immediately. Was starting anyway. That trap worked. May need horses for eight. Will you arrange?
Brandon.
"It sure looks like a busy day ter-morrer," Sandy said half aloud. "Keith and Brandon—which means roundin' up Jim Plimsoll. Sam don't get to any picnic, either. He'll have to 'tend to the hawsses."
The Keith touring car arrived in mid-afternoon with young Keith at the wheel, the chauffeur beside him, grips in the tonneau. Donald Keith jumped out, affable, a little inclined to condescension at first toward everything connected with the ranch, including Kate Nicholson. The imperturbable driver left with the car. Young Keith's snobbery wore off as he inspected the corrals and the stock with eager interest and the riders with a certain measure of awe, which he transferred to Sandy on learning that he had broken two colts that morning.
"If they're broken, I must be all apart," he said, watching them plunge wildly about the corral at the sight of visitors. "I'd hate to try to ride one of them in Central Park. If I could stick on I'd be pinched for endangering the public. Wish I could have seen you bu'st them."
"There'll be mo' of it befo' you leave," said Sandy. His mood of the morning held. His generosity of feeling toward Keith's boy did not lessen when he saw how much the elder of the two Molly appeared. The youngster was spoiled, probably selfish, but he was distinctly likable.
"Know what time yore father expects to be out?" Sandy asked him, later.
"He didn't say. He's got some business to attend to. Some time in the forenoon, I imagine. I know he's figuring on getting back to Casey Town to-night. Molly, you haven't taken me out to see your father's grave. Won't you? You promised to." Sandy liked the lad for that. But it did not ameliorate his attitude toward the visit of Keith Senior.
That worthy arrived after lunch had been cleared the next day. Kate Nicholson busied herself to wait deferentially upon him and his secretary, the fox-faced Blake. Keith was brisk and brusk, breathing prosperity.