"Well, we're here, anyhow," spoke Dick, the fat youth, with a sigh of evident relief, as he looked back toward the corral.
"I just got in myself," said Bud. "Been away two days mending fence. Had to sleep out one night, and we weren't exactly prepared for it. But I'm mighty glad you've come! We can have some corking times. I'll get you ponies that'll be—er—better to ride than Tartar," he said, substituting the word "better" for that of "safer" which, at first, he had intended to use.
"That's good!" exclaimed Dick. "I don't claim to be any rider, though I can stick to the saddle once I land there," and he shot a side glance at his more impulsive brother.
"Oh, I could 'a' stuck if there'd been a saddle," declared Nort.
"That was the trouble. I'll ride Tartar yet!" he cried.
"Better go slow," advised Bud. "But there's mother in the door now, and I can smell grub. She'll be surprised to see you."
"Who's that girl?" asked Dick, as he noticed one standing beside the stout, motherly-looking woman in the doorway of the ranch house.
"That's my sister Nell," remarked Bud.
"Nell! Say, she has grown!" cried Nort. "I didn't know she was that big!"
"Oh, this is a good country for growing up in!" laughed Bud. "Here's
Nort and Dick, Mother!" he called.
"Well, land sakes! I never expected to see you two!" cried Mrs. Merkel, hastily wiping off her mouth with the corner of her apron, preparatory to kissing her nephews. "Land! But you've grown!"