"There's only one thing nicer than going camping," Blue Bonnet declared.

Her grandmother looked up. "And that is—?"

"Getting home again!" Blue Bonnet laughed happily.

They were in sight of the ranch-house now, and could see the girls and Alec dismounting at the veranda steps. Don and Solomon leaping excitedly about the group, suddenly caught sight of the approaching buckboard and raced madly to meet their mistress. Even the horses seemed glad to be home again and tired as they were with the long day's travel broke into a trot.

Benita's brown face beamed at them from the doorway, and over her shoulder peered Juanita, with eyes only for Miguel.

Kitty had sunk immediately into one of the deep veranda chairs.

"I had to see how it feels to sit in a real live chair with a back once more," she explained. "And next I want to look at myself in a mirror that's more than three inches square; and have a drink out of a glass tumbler; and put on a clean white, fluffy dress!"

They each did all these things as eagerly as if they had been marooned on a desert island for many months; even Grandmother Clyde wearing fresh white linen, and Alec, for the first time on the ranch appearing in a starched shirt. Whereupon the girls broke into deafening applause.

"Letters, letters for everybody!" cried Blue Bonnet bursting into the living-room with a great bundle of mail. "Three for you and one for me, Grandmother,—postmarked Turino. Heaps for you, Kitty, ditto for Sarah, Amanda, Debby, Alec,—all Woodford must have joined in a round-robin. Hurry and read them and then everybody swap news!"

A long silence ensued, as profound as it was rare, while each girl pored over the precious home letters. It was Kitty who looked up first.

"Susy didn't catch the fever,—and Ruth's all over it. And she's had to have all her hair cut off, and she's dreadfully thin and doesn't seem to get her strength back as she should, Father says. He thinks she has fretted over having to miss the ranch party,—and no wonder!—it would simply have killed me. Susy's been a regular trump and hasn't complained a bit, but every one knows it's been a dreadful disappointment, especially when she was perfectly well and could have come if it hadn't been for Ruth."

"It's a downright shame!" Blue Bonnet declared.

"Father says if Ruth doesn't feel better soon she'll probably have to stay out of school this fall," Kitty continued.

"Then I should say she hadn't suffered in vain," exclaimed Blue Bonnet; Grandmother was deep in her letters.

"But think how mean it would be to have one of the We are Sevens out of school. You know how you love to 'have things complete,'" Amanda reminded her.

"Yes, but—" she began; then feeling her grandmother's eyes upon her, failed to finish. It was odd how the girls took it for granted that she was going back with them. And she was not at all sure, herself.

The girls had not noticed her hesitation, and were already exchanging other bits of home news and gossip. Alec alone was silent. Blue Bonnet, stealing a look at him saw that he had finished his letters and was staring moodily out of the window, unmindful of all the gay chatter about him.

"Did you get bad news, Alec?" she asked him, later that evening, as he accompanied her to the stable to see Texas and Massachusetts.

"That depends on the way you look at it. Boyd is coming back from Europe to take the West Point examinations—"

Blue Bonnet smothered an exclamation: she had seen that coming.

"—and Grandfather says that since the Army seems out of the question for me, he thinks I had better hurry home and take the Harvard exams. He seems set on it."

"And you don't want to?"

"It isn't to be thought of." Alec's mouth was very determined.

Now why, if West Point was disposed of, could he not take the next best—or in her opinion the very best—thing that offered? It was on the point of Blue Bonnet's tongue to put the question, when Alec spoke again.

"I've been putting off writing Grandfather,—what I told you a while ago,—thinking I might feel different after a time. But I'm more convinced than ever now. I had a long talk with Knight's friend 'Doc' Abbott, and he gave me a thorough going over, as he called it—"

"And what did he say?"

"He agrees with me, absolutely. There's no Harvard or any other college for Alec Trent—"

"Oh, Alec!" Blue Bonnet was trembling. To hide it she bent and picked up little Texas, stroking one of his silky ears. The coyotes had been placed in the empty rabbit-hutch, and were growing prodigiously.

"Well, it's better to know the truth and face it, isn't it?" Alec asked, as if rather resenting her tone.

"Yes, but—I can't see how you can speak so lightly about it. It's so dreadfully—serious."

"Lightly?" echoed Alec. "You're mistaken, Blue Bonnet. I know it's a mighty serious business for me. Why, if I could view it lightly, I could sit down and write Grandfather about it this very minute—"

"Well, if you don't, I'm going to!" she declared.

"Will you? Oh, Blue Bonnet, that's just what I've been hoping you'd do!" The relief in Alec's tone was unmistakable. "He's mighty fond of you, and I'm sure he'd consider that it came better from you than from me. And it will be a lot easier for you to do it, under the circumstances."

Easier! Blue Bonnet bent hastily and put Texas back in the bunny-house so that Alec might not see her face. If he had not been absorbed in his own thoughts he must have seen what a shock his words had been to her. It was so unlike Alec to put upon a girl a task he felt too hard for himself,—a sort of cowardice of which she would never have believed him capable. It took her some seconds to steady her voice before she could answer:

"I'll write to-morrow."

"You're a trump, Blue Bonnet! I seem to get deeper and deeper into your debt," he said earnestly.

Blue Bonnet fastened the little door of the rabbit-hutch, leaving Texas and Massachusetts to one of their frequent naps, and then walked back to the house in silence. Alec, observing her, believed her to be composing her letter to the General.

"The first of August to-day, just think how our summer is flying!" remarked Amanda next morning.

"Just three weeks to Blue Bonnet's birthday," said Sarah, who was engaged in making some mental calculations.

"Sixteen! Just think how old I'm getting!" Blue Bonnet's smile showed her not at all depressed at the prospect.

Uncle Joe cleared his throat gruffly. Why on earth did everybody keep harping on Blue Bonnet's growing up?

"I reckon you'll be having some howling celebration?" he asked rather crossly.

"You wager we will!" Uncle Cliff replied, all the more cheerfully because he guessed the reason for Uncle Joe's irritation. "A sixteenth birthday only comes once in a lifetime."

Mrs. Clyde, feeling an unusual sympathy with Uncle Joe, was silent.

"We must have some sort of a party that's—different," exclaimed Blue Bonnet.

"Everything's different in Texas," Sarah remarked, and the usual laugh followed.

"We can't have a dance without any boys," Blue Bonnet reflected.

"No boys?" exclaimed Uncle Joe, with a return of his twinkle, "Well, for a ranch that keeps a baker's dozen of cowboys—"

"All Mexicans except Sandy and Pete!" exclaimed Blue Bonnet scornfully.

"I'll agree to furnish a boy apiece for the festive occasion," said Uncle Cliff; and Blue Bonnet, exchanging a glance with him, knew he was nursing a well-laid scheme. "Now, listen," he continued. "I've been thinking over this thing—had time to think this last week!—and I've got it all figured out. My idea is to have an all-day affair, a real old-fashioned Spanish tournament."

Blue Bonnet clapped her hands. "Oh, Uncle Cliff, you do think of the most glorious things!"

"In the morning," Uncle Cliff went on, "we could have a steer-roping contest—the Mexicans adore that—and SeÑorita Ashe bestow the prizes. And then—"

"Some bronco-busting," suggested Uncle Joe. Blue Bonnet turned pale and Uncle Cliff kicked his foreman under the table.

"None of that," he said briefly. "Too crude for our select company."

"A bull-fight, then," Uncle Joe persisted, "—that's Spanish, and the most seeleck ladies adore the ring."

"Oh, no!" cried Blue Bonnet, before she caught the gleam of mischief in the speaker's eye.

"We might have some races in the pasture," Alec suggested.

"Sure!" exclaimed Uncle Cliff. "And end with a grand fÊte in the evening,—and give everybody a holiday."

"Won't it be a great deal of work?" Mrs. Clyde inquired.

"Heaps. But these greasers never have enough to do,—we'll make them work for once," Mr. Ashe replied.

"What shall we wear?" Of course it was Kitty who asked.

"Oh, girls, I've the loveliest plan,—you don't mind, do you, Grandmother, if I get out my Spanish costume again?"

Grandmother smiled at a sudden recollection. "No, dear. I think it would fit this occasion admirably."

"But we haven't Spanish costumes!" said Debby and Amanda in a breath.

"Get them!" Blue Bonnet exclaimed. "Any old-fashioned, bright-colored gown will do to begin with, and a lace scarf for mantilla—"

"But where are we to get the gowns,—they don't grow on bushes," demanded Kitty.

"There is such a thing as a post, Kitty, and an express company. And you know your attics at home are full of lovely old things."

"Then we'll have to send right away to get them here in time."

The girls rose as if there were not a moment to lose, and, later in the day, Shady rode to Jonah with a well-filled mail-bag.

Blue Bonnet spent the entire morning over the composition of her letter to General Trent. When she sat down soberly to write Alec's grandfather a plain statement of facts, she found she had no facts to tell,—only a host of vague fears and hints that Alec had uttered from time to time. It was hardly to be wondered at, therefor, that her epistle when finished was pervaded with mystery of a veiled sort that made the General knit his brow, fall into a brown study, and then stalk off to the telegraph office.

It was Uncle Cliff who received the message and the matter aroused no comment. It said simply:

A telegram just as brief was despatched in reply; and no one was the wiser except Blue Bonnet and Grandmother Clyde. Blue Bonnet was much elated. Telling bad news at long range was something she did not approve of, and it promised to be a far easier solution of the problem to have the General see and learn for himself. It was not easy, however, to keep the matter from Alec, and Blue Bonnet, who had never had a secret of such importance before, had trouble more than once to keep from blurting it out.

The air for the next few days was full of mystery. Preparations for the birthday went forth apace, and the question of gifts was the important topic of the hour. Isolation from shops threw the girls largely upon their own resources; besides, it was known that Mrs. Clyde did not favor anything but the simplest of gifts. Sarah, whose drawn-work had progressed steadily in spite of all obstacles, enjoyed a small triumph, being the only one prepared with a suitable present.

"Now they'll leave me in peace while I finish it," she thought with a sigh of relief.

But it was not altogether peace that Sarah enjoyed, for the other girls took it into their heads to fashion something for Blue Bonnet with their own hands, and sought Sarah's room as the one spot secure from the eyes of the curious.

"What are you going to give Blue Bonnet?" Debby asked Alec one day.

He laughed mysteriously. "I'm aiming to surprise everybody as well as Blue Bonnet. It isn't much of a present, and the surprise is the only thing about it worth while."

Blue Bonnet was obligingly blind and deaf, in these days. Letters flying back and forth, packages by mail or express, she ignored religiously.

"It's a real midsummer Christmas," she said to her grandmother one day, when all the other girls had shut themselves up in Sarah's room. "I thought there never could be anything so exciting and thrilly as getting ready for Christmas in Woodford, but this is running it close!"

"The mistress of the Blue Bonnet ranch is a very important personage these days," said Grandmother.

"She always has been made to feel important here. That's why it was so hard at first when I came to you and Aunt Lucinda." Blue Bonnet drew a low hassock beside her grandmother, and leaned cosily against her in the way they both loved. "You see, having my own way ever since I was old enough to have a way, didn't make it very easy to obey orders. My wishes didn't seem to count much with Aunt Lucinda."

"But they do count, dear. Your aunt is very fond of you, Blue Bonnet, and would grant any reasonable wish if she had it in her power."

"Oh, I understand her better now. It didn't take me very long to realize that she was running that ranch—that's a figure of speech, Grandmother,—and it was my turn to be run."

Mrs. Clyde stroked the brown head lovingly. "I saw the struggle, dear, and I know it was not easy. The things that are worth while don't come without effort."

Blue Bonnet smiled understanding into her grandmother's eyes. "I know. And I'm so glad I wasn't what Uncle Cliff calls a 'quitter.' Sticking it out was pretty hard, but it's made me feel more—worthy, somehow, to be sixteen!"

Mystery reached its highest point the next day when Kitty, who had been absorbed in a bulky letter from home, suddenly gave a shrill scream of excitement, and summoning the other three girls, fled to Sarah's room. The high-pitched chatter and ejaculations that issued from that quarter made even Alec curious. Going around the house he hung on to the window-ledge and begged to be let into the secret.

"We want to surprise everybody!" said Debby revengefully.

Alec dropped to the ground and walked away in high amusement. Let them keep their secret then; he was sure he knew a surprise worth two of it. Then he betook himself to the Mexican quarters to note the progress of his own gift for Blue Bonnet.