“I rode here,” he answered, as they shook hands. “But it is only a brief visit. Hallo, Miss Grace! I’m delighted to see you again. And you, Ches, old sport—why this is great luck to find you here! Mrs. Darlington, I’m mighty glad to see you all once more.”
The whole bevy were crowding around him, shaking hands and expressing their joyful surprise.
“We knew you were safe, that was all,” explained Munson.
“So you were having just the same jolly good times,” laughed Dick, glancing at the piano. “I’m simply dying for some music.”
“But wait a minute,” exclaimed Munson, drawing a fat wad of newspaper cuttings from his pocket. “I’ve got to tell you about a competition you must get into—new plans for an ideal city here—”
“In the heart of the old rancho,” smiled Dick, as he completed the sentence. While he spoke, he placed his arm affectionately across his chum’s shoulders. “I know all about it, old man. I’m working hard on my plans—they are already more than half done.”
“Bravo!” shouted Munson. “That’s great news.”
“But here, too, is Mr. Robles,” exclaimed Dick, breaking from the group and stepping across the room. “Excuse me, senor, but I did not notice you were here till this moment.”
“No excuse needed, my friend. You were better engaged”—this with a humorous side-glance at the young ladies. “But I am glad to see you looking so well.”
“Where have you been, Mr. Willoughby?” asked Grace.