“Frances what?”
“Frances Mackenzie. She is your daughter, returned, after all these years, to love and be loved.”
The mother gave a little throat cry, steadied herself, and fell into the arms of her daughter. “Oh, my baby! My baby! Found at last.”
Quietly Bucky slipped away to the stables with the ponies. As quietly Alice disappeared into the house. This was sacred ground, and not even their feet should rest on it just now.
When Bucky returned to the house, he found his sweetheart sitting between her father and mother, each of whom was holding one of her hands. Henderson had retired to clean himself up. Happy tears were coursing down the cheeks of the mother, and Webb found it necessary to blow his nose frequently. He jumped up at sight of the ranger.
“Young man, you’re to blame for this. You’ve found my friend and you’ve found my daughter. Brought them both back to us on the same day. What do you want? Name it, and it’s yours, if I can give it.”
Bucky looked at Frances with a smile in his eyes. He knew very well what he wanted, but he was under bonds not to name it yet.
“I’ll set you up in the cattle business, sir. I’ll buy you sheep, if you prefer. I’ll get you an interest in a mine. Put a name to what you want.”
“I’m no robber. You paid the expenses of my trip. That’s all I want right now.”
“It’s not all you’ll get. Do you think I’m a cheap piker? No, sir. You’ve got to let me grub-stake you.” Mackenzie thumped a clinched fist down on the table.