Jack pulled herself up by catching at Jim's strong hands and laughed her old gay, teasing laugh. "You couldn't stay away, could you, pard? My, what a bluff you are! I suppose you guessed how furiously angry we were with you for not coming home to say good-by."
Jim laughed a little huskily. "You're right, as usual, Miss Ralston. I couldn't let my girls go away off to New York without making them promise to behave themselves. You must not let money and rich people fool and spoil you until you forget all about the dear old ranch." Jim patted Jack's hand softly. "I wasn't going to play the coward either, Jack, now it's come to the point. I am going to tell Ruth good-by and wish her good luck."
"Remember a motto I once said I was going to take for the Rainbow Ranch, Jim?" Jack asked gravely. "It was 'never say die,' and if you won't forget it, pard, I won't." And the man and girl shook hands like friends between whom no other words were necessary.
Frieda, coming back to her sister, heard Jim's voice and raised the alarm. In the midst of the group of laughing and enthusiastic girls Ruth was able to greet Jim as she would have done many months before.
The rain ceased and just before an early tea Jim lifted Jack and carried her out on the great porch in front of Rainbow Lodge. A giant rainbow spanned the heavens, and they wished to take a farewell of their beloved ranch with the arch of promise above them.
"See, Frieda, dear," Jack called gayly, "the rainbow does dip into the creek where we found our pot of gold. I told you it ended on our place, and that's why father gave it the name of 'The Rainbow Ranch.'"
Frieda shook her head, not being gifted with a vivid imagination. "I can't see it, sister," she argued seriously. "The rainbow just slips off in the sky somewhere. But I know a verse of poetry that Ruth taught me. Would you like me to say it?"
Everybody nodded with their eyes resting lovingly on the beautiful rain-washed fields of the ranch, shining now with a new, colorful beauty from the reflected glory in the heavens.
Frieda walked out in the yard facing her audience, her long blond pigtails quivering with the importance of her position, and her turquoise eyes shining with interest. Quite unconscious of her small self, with her gaze fastened on Jack, she raised one dimpled arm, reciting proudly:
"O beautiful rainbow, all woven of light!
There's not in thy tissue one shadow of night;
Heaven surely is open when thou dost appear,
And bending above thee, the angels draw near
And sing: 'The Rainbow! The Rainbow!
The smile of God is here.'"