"Sixteen to-day!" was Blue Bonnet's first thought as she opened her eyes next morning.

Could it be only a year since her last birthday? Less than a year since she had first seen Grandmother? Why, it seemed now as if she must have known Grandmother and Aunt Lucinda all her life! She tried to remember how she used to feel before she ever left the ranch; before she had ever seen Woodford, or the We are Sevens, or—but the list seemed interminable; she gave up trying to recall how the Blue Bonnet of that careless time had thought and felt and spent her days.

Was every year to bring as many new experiences, as many new faces into her life? Surely not if she stayed on the ranch, and if she went— But Uncle Cliff had said that question was to be banished for this day.

Rising and dressing noiselessly, she stole out of the nursery for one of her usual early morning romps. Being sixteen should not rob her of the right to be a child at this hour of the day!

"Wish me many happy returns, Solomon!" she cried as the dogs raced to her across the yard. "Don, this is the fifth occasion of this sort you've attended,—you're getting on in years, too. Come on, I'll race you to the fence!"

Uncle Cliff watched her from the pasture, a chuckle of satisfaction escaping him at this evidence of untamed tomboyism. He met her as she came up flushed and breathless.

"Getting mighty dignified since you turned sixteen, aren't you?"

Her laughing face peered at him over the rough old logs. "Not so you'd notice it!"

"I reckon I ought to thump you sixteen times and one to grow on. But that would make it necessary to climb the fence. How would you like kisses instead?"

"Give me the big one to grow on, anyway." She held up her lips. "And now I must run in to Grandmother,—she must have the next."

She found the SeÑora waiting for her in the living-room.

"I'm so glad you're alone, Grandmother. I wanted you all to myself for a minute or two." She went straight into the arms Grandmother held out to her, was folded close for a moment and received a second kiss "to grow on."

"While we're alone I want to tell you something," Blue Bonnet said earnestly, "—about this last year, I mean. I never have said just what I've felt. It has been the best of all years, Grandmother, and the best of all the good things it has brought me—is you."

"Thank you, dear. And you must know, Blue Bonnet, without my telling you how great a comfort you are to me."

"Truly, Grandmother,—a comfort?"

"Beyond words, dear." And Grandmother gave her another kiss to grow on. "And now, Blue Bonnet, here is something for your birthday."

Blue Bonnet took the dainty package and unwrapped it with fingers that trembled a little. Within the paper was a box, and inside that, looking out from a frame of dull Roman gold, was her mother's face. It was an exquisite miniature, painted on ivory. The rose-tints of the flesh and the deep tender blue of the eyes that smiled up at her, made the portrait seem a living thing. Blue Bonnet could not speak. She gazed and gazed at the dear features until her eyes blurred and she had to put up her hand to brush the tears away.

"Oh, Grandmother—!" Her lip quivered and she could say no more.

But Grandmother understood.

"Your aunt had it done from a photograph while she was in Rome. The painter was a Boston woman—an old friend of ours who knew your mother, Blue Bonnet. That is why the coloring is so true. The eyes are your eyes—can't you see, dear?"

"Am I truly like her?"

"So like, Blue Bonnet, that sometimes it seems as if Elizabeth had never left me."

"I'm glad, Grandmother. Oh, how I shall treasure this! How can I ever thank you and Aunt Lucinda? There come the others,—I think I won't show them this just now. I'd rather let them see it one at a time. Somehow a crowd—"

"I understand, Blue Bonnet."

It was well that she and her grandmother had made the most of that quiet five minutes before breakfast; for it was the last peaceful moment that day.

As all the gay party trooped into the dining-room with its long table looking like a real banquet board, a big floral decoration was the first thing to greet all eyes. A long low basket of closely woven fibres formed a centrepiece, and inside it, growing so densely that only a vivid mass of blue showed above the brim, were blue bonnets in bloom.

"How sweet! Where did they come from?" Blue Bonnet demanded, looking from face to face.

"There's a card on the handle," some one suggested.

Blue Bonnet bent and read: "Blue Bonnet's namesakes wish her many happy returns of the day." Looking up she caught Alec's eye. "You?" she asked.

"Guilty!" he confessed.

"You clever boy! You couldn't have given me anything I should love as much. How did you ever do it?"

"Easy enough. Planted the seeds and took care of them,—had a bad scare for fear they wouldn't bloom in time. I've had them back of Marta's cabin and she's been sitting up nights with them!"

They all crowded about the table for a closer view.

"I'm so glad we can see some blue bonnets before leaving. That's been the one thing necessary to complete Texas!" exclaimed Kitty.

"Sure you don't mean ivy?" asked Alec in an undertone.

She wilted. "Sh! Please don't remind me of that,—I was almost happy again!"

"No symptoms yet?" he asked.

"None—yet. I live in hopes!"

"Let's wait till after breakfast before we give Blue Bonnet our gifts," suggested Sarah. "She'll enjoy them more, I think."

"Not to mention our enjoyment!" laughed Kitty.

The suggestion was followed, and at the conclusion of the meal, Blue Bonnet kept her seat and opened the rest of her packages with the eyes of all the crowd upon her. Very simple were the gifts, as the Woodford girls had slender purses; but the love and good will that went with the presents made up for their lack of material value.

From Kitty there was a dainty sewing apron of muslin, with pretty blue bows on the pockets; from Amanda, a fancy-work bag, and from Debby a complicated needlecase. A silver thimble from Susy and Ruth completed these very feminine accessories.

Alec's eyes twinkled as Blue Bonnet tried the thimble on her slender finger-tip. "If you're not a model of industry after this, Blue Bonnet, it will prove you're rather slow at taking a hint!"

The girls joined heartily in the laugh against them, though they professed entire innocence of any such intention as Alec implied.

Sarah's gift provoked a chorus of exclamations. From the fine drawn-work, the hand-made tucks, to the tiny irreproachable buttonholes, the waist was a triumph of the needlewoman's art.

"It's the prettiest one I ever had!" Blue Bonnet declared. She would have liked to jump up and kiss Sarah, the dear old thing! But with eight boys looking on, such a demonstration might appear done for effect, she concluded; and so reserved that mark of affection for a future occasion.

When the girls had presented their offerings, Knight came up and dropped a paper parcel into her lap. On the card tied to the blue ribbon that decorated it was written: "To the Good Samaritan from the One Who Fell by the Wayside." There was a laugh in Knight's eyes as he watched her read the inscription and then unwrap the tissue-paper that enclosed the object.

Blue Bonnet lifted the lid of the long narrow box, took one look, and met Knight's eyes with an answering laugh in her own. Inside the box was a shimmering red silk sash. Knight had kept his promise to himself to buy Blue Bonnet the "fanciest thing in the sash line that Chicago could boast"—even though it had taken the last penny of his pocket money.

"It's a beauty!" she declared.

"Knight must expect another spill to-day," laughed Alec.

Blue Bonnet looked about the circle with a bright, quick glance. "I'm not going to try to say 'thank you' to everybody,—those two words would be quite worn out by the time I finished!"

"Come along, everybody," said Uncle Cliff, "it's time for the festivities to begin."

As they left the dining-room, Carita slipped her arm about Blue Bonnet and whispered regretfully: "I wish I had a present for you. I didn't know in time or I could have made something."

Blue Bonnet gave her an impulsive squeeze. "Why, Carita, you're a birthday present yourself!"

Blue Bonnet's promise to Ruth in regard to the steer-roping contest, proved almost literally true. This was the great feature of the day to the Mexicans, and their delight in the sport knew no bounds. They made a brilliant picture as they stood or squatted about the corral gate, the women in their bright yellow, red and purple calicoes; and the men in their tight trousers, serapes rainbow hued, gay sashes and enormous peaked hats. The scene was full of life, color and motion.

Ruth's thin cheeks grew pink with excitement. "What's going to happen first?" she asked Blue Bonnet.

"You see those steers inside the gate? Well, Pancho will drive one out and while it is running like mad, Josef—he has the first turn—will lasso, throw it, and tie its feet together with that short rope he has. Then, one after another, the rest of the cowboys will do the same thing, and the one that does it in the shortest time will get the prize and be declared champion of the Blue Bonnet ranch."

"The world's record is thirty-seven seconds," Knight added, "but it has to be a hustler who can do it under a minute."

"Look—there comes one now!" screamed Kitty.

The contest was swift, breathless and soon over. The corral gate was opened and through it driven a steer. Outside, mounted on a swift cow-pony rode Josef, awaiting the signal to start in pursuit. On came the steer with long frightened leaps, after him the vaquero with lariat whirling around his head. Suddenly the rope whistled, hissed through the air, dropped and coiled about the steer's front feet. A quick movement on the part of both rider and horse; the lariat tightened, and the steer pitched on to its side. Josef leaped from his pony, bent over his victim, and, in far less time than it takes to tell it, had tied three of the kicking hoofs together. The cowboy rose, grinning, amid the cheers of the delighted audience; and remounting his horse, coolly rolled a cigarette.

"Sixty-three seconds," said Knight, who was time-keeper.

One after another the cowboys took their turns, and every fraction of a second shaved from Josef's record, sent the Mexicans wild with excitement. It was Lupe who was finally declared champion, and received from Blue Bonnet's hands the silver-braided Mexican sombrero that was the prize.

"I wonder why Miguel didn't try," Blue Bonnet remarked, as Lupe walked proudly away with his trophy. "He's always been able to beat Lupe."

"I asked Pancho where Miguel was," said Alec, "and he said no one had seen him to-day. Maybe Juanita objects to steer-roping!" They smiled with a secret understanding.

"How do you like the sport?" Blue Bonnet asked, turning to Ruth.

"It's exciting,—but isn't it cruel, Blue Bonnet?"

"I reckon the steer thinks so," Blue Bonnet confessed. "But the cowboys have to practise, you know, for at the round-up that's the way they have to throw the calves to brand them."

"Then I don't want to see a round-up!" Ruth declared.

Next came races in the pasture, and in these the girls and boys were the contestants. Blue ribbons were the awards pinned on the winners by Blue Bonnet herself, and the rivalry for them was intense. Leaning against the pasture fence which formed the "grandstand" General Trent, Uncle Cliff, Uncle Joe, Mrs. Clyde, Susy, Ruth and Blue Bonnet watched and applauded; while the Mexicans, squatting about in characteristic attitudes, chattered and laughed like a lot of children.

As Sarah swept by on Comanche to take her place at the starting-line, Ruth and Susy turned amazed and questioning eyes on Blue Bonnet. She laughed at their expressions of wonder.

"Keep your eye on Sarah!" she bade them. "Comanche is one of the swiftest horses on the ranch, and he and our Sallykins are on the best of terms."

To Blue Bonnet's secret delight Sarah won the first race. As she pinned the blue ribbon to the winner's middy blouse, her own face beamed the triumph that Sarah was too modest to betray.

"Aren't you going in for any others?" Ruth asked, as Sarah returned on foot and dropped on the blanket beside her.

"No, I only rode in that race to keep the girls from calling me 'fraid-cat.' I'm sure Father wouldn't approve of horse-racing."

Ruth laughed. "You are the same old Sarah! I was beginning to believe that the Blue Bonnet ranch had bewitched you."

"Don't say 'bewitched,'" Blue Bonnet interrupted, "locoed is the word we use in Texas."

The birthday dinner, served early as was the custom at the ranch, was the most animated of feasts, of which the birthday-cake with its sixteen blazing candles was the grand climax. It was fat Lisa herself who waddled in and deposited her masterpiece in front of the SeÑorita, and then lingered to see how it looked after cutting.

"It's divine, Lisa,—a complete success!" Blue Bonnet cried, and the cook grinned delightedly. As Lisa turned to leave the room, Blue Bonnet detained her to whisper—"Why is Benita waiting on table alone?—where's Juanita?"

"Who knows?" returned Lisa with a shrug of her massive shoulders. "That niÑa is run off and Gertrudis means to thrash her."

"Oh, Lisa, she mustn't!" Blue Bonnet said in genuine distress. "Tell Gertrudis I'll come out and see her after dinner."

She found Gertrudis slamming about the dishes in a most reckless fashion and muttering to herself angrily. To Blue Bonnet's plea in behalf of the absent Juanita she returned only stormy answers.

"No, SeÑorita, she is spoiled for lack of thrashing. Run off on the SeÑorita's birthday! With a horde to wait on! And enough work for fifty lazy things like herself!"

No, Juanita should be thrashed if ever she could lay hands on her. Blue Bonnet could not sway her from her purpose, and finally gave up arguing and left the kitchen, vowing mentally to prevent the angry old woman from carrying out her threat. But in the excitement of the evening's festivities, she forgot all about it.

What an evening it was! Not one of the boys and girls lucky enough to be there would ever forget the scene. The broad verandas on which half the furniture of the house had been brought to form cosy-corners and lounging places; the soft gleam of Chinese lanterns strung among the trees; the music of Shady's violin, augmented by a flute and cello from Jonah, to which they danced on the croquet-ground; and everywhere the We are Sevens, stately in trains and hair dressed high, tripping and laughing and flirting their fans in the manner fondly believed to be that of high-born Spanish dames.

Susy and Ruth had obligingly crammed their trunks with the attic treasures of the various Woodford families, and the costumes, while not strictly Spanish, were quite gorgeous and "partified" enough to satisfy these finery-loving young folk. Among them they had managed to fit out Carita too, and she, in a yellow gown with velvety gold-of-Ophir roses in the dusky coils of her hair, looked like a real maid of Andalusia. Blue Bonnet, in her red satin gown, which had not seen the light since the night it had been worn for the benefit of the Boston relatives, was a picture.

Alec came up to her in the middle of the evening and made a low bow. "SeÑorita Blue Bonnetta, you look charming to-night, but it strikes me you're carrying things with a high hand. Why, among all your humble subjects, am I not favored with a dance or promenade? You've been engaged three deep every time I've asked you."

For a minute Blue Bonnet toyed with her fan without speaking. She had purposely avoided Alec for a reason she considered good and sufficient. There was an explanation due her from him, and that also, she was resolved, should be "good and sufficient" or she would not accept it. And it seemed best, if there was to be any clash between them, that it should not come on her birthday. She would not easily forgive him for urging her to write that letter to the General.

As she hesitated and a surprised look crept into Alec's eyes, there came a great outcry from the direction of Marta's cabin,—shouts, cheers and bursts of laughter.

"The Mexicans must be doing stunts,—let's go and see," Alec suggested.

Gathering up her train Blue Bonnet hurried with him to the Mexican quarters, where the noisy crowd had assembled. Half way there they met Gertrudis, also headed for the scene of merriment.

"It's that Juanita, they say," she cried, "come back after all the work's done!" Her swarthy face was dark with anger; in her hand was a willow switch.

"Hurry!" cried Blue Bonnet. "Let's get there first, Alec,—she means to thrash Juanita!"

Running and tripping on her long dress Blue Bonnet reached the group and at her appearance the Mexicans burst into renewed cheering.

"The SeÑorita!" they cried and parted to make room for her.

"What is it—what's all the noise about?" asked Alec.

But, as the circle parted, revealing a tableau in the centre, he and Blue Bonnet needed no explanation. Standing hand in hand, in attitudes expressing both embarrassment and triumph, were—Miguel and Juanita.

"Ran off to Jonah and got married!" chuckled Pinto Pete.

Blue Bonnet and Alec gazed at each other in stupefaction for a second, then Blue Bonnet glanced hastily about for Gertrudis. The change in the old woman was instantaneous. She turned to Blue Bonnet with a grin.

"That Miguel makes good wages!" she cried. The anger had faded from her face, and instead of the switch, Juanita received her blessing.

"What a mercenary old thing Gertrudis is!" exclaimed Blue Bonnet, as, after congratulating the happy pair, she and Alec walked back to the house.

"She's a sensible woman," Alec remarked provokingly. "Most of the Mexicans are lazy old loafers,—but Miguel has a streak of real American industry."

"Well," said Blue Bonnet, "I little expected my birthday party to be turned into a wedding!"

When the last candle had been blown out and all was quiet except for the echo of music and laughter from the Mexican quarters, where the wedding festivities were continued almost till dawn, Blue Bonnet slipped into her grandmother's room for a last word before retiring.

"The sixteenth has been the best birthday of all," she said happily. "Are you quite tired out, Grandmother?"

And Mrs. Clyde, bending to kiss the glowing face upturned to her, replied: "No, dear. It has been a beautiful party. But I'm glad for all our sakes that Blue Bonnet Ashe has but one birthday a year!"