He took some of Frank’s philosophy, to the effect that he would always after that be prepared for possibilities, since lightning can at times apparently strike out of a clear sky.
The boys’ time on the ranch was now getting toward a close; but before they left they had one pleasant surprise that made them feel happy. It was just on the little maid’s sixth birthday that a tired Mexican came to the place and asked to see Mr. Witherspoon.
It happened that both boys were with him, and remembering their recent adventure in connection with one such greaser, they eyed the dusty traveler with more or less curiosity. He handed Mr. Witherspoon a packet which he said his master, who was a ranchero down in Chihuahua, Mexico, had ordered him to get there before dark on this particular day.
Opening the packet the ranchman disclosed some beautiful silken garments such as would be apt to set a little girl wild with delight, and also a lovely slender gold necklace with pearls as its ornaments.
When he had glanced at the paper that had come with this gift Mr. Witherspoon smiled, and looked meaningly at the boys.
“Well, all I can say is, that you two boys are next door to wizards. You’ve actually made an impression on a heart that I calculated was as hard as flint. Here are some presents for our little girl,” and on the paper I read in Spanish: “To the little Senorita Rebecca from her unworthy father, on her sixth birthday. May the good God bless her.”
And neither of the boys so much as smiled, for they felt that in some fashion that merciful act of Frank’s in treating Jose Sandero so generously had borne such fruit as no one would ever have believed possible.
When the time came for them to say goodbye to Uncle Jethro and the jolly boys on the Double X Ranch, it was hard to do it. And neither Frank nor Andy would ever forget the rousing cheers that burst from the lips of those happy-go-lucky punchers, Buckskin, Waldo Kline, Shorty, Alkali Joe and the rest, not forgetting even Charley Woo, when they saw the last of them at the station.
Of course Frank and Andy reached their home town in safety, and in due time the biplane once more rested in its accustomed hangar back of Frank Bird’s home; with the first snow of winter covering the ground, and a frosty tang in the air that was just the opposite of that torrid wave the Bird boys struck when crossing the Arizona desert.
And it is to be hoped that we will have the pleasure of recounting further thrilling adventures that befell these intrepid air pilots in other volumes to succeed this. Meanwhile, having seen them safely through experiences at the cattle ranch, and once more back home before the delayed session of school opened, it only remains for us to say goodbye to the reader and write—