"I should hope not!" gasped Rhoda. "Do you think I am as old as
Mrs. Cupp?"

"Oh! Oh!" cried Bess. "Poor Cupp!"

"I never saw a buffalo," confessed Rhoda. "And I never heard the
war whoop. And an Indian in war paint and other togs would scare me
just as much as it would Gracie. But daddy remembers them all. He
shot buffaloes for the army, scouted for General Pope, chased a
part of Geronimo's band into Mexico, and was a Texas Ranger when
the Border Ruffians were really in existence. He can tell you all
about those times; only mother doesn't let him."

"There! I suppose she doesn't like to hear about savages and other
awful things," Grace said, with satisfaction.

"No-o; it isn't that," Rhoda returned with twinkling eyes. "But
mother does not let him talk about those times because it makes
daddy out so much older than she is!"

Tom Collins, the cook, was a talkative man, if Hesitation Kane was
not. Tom reined his pony into the group of young people and began
spinning yarns, some of which perhaps had but a thin warp of truth.
He thought it was his privilege to "string along the tenderfoots" a
little. One thing he told the girls and Walter, however, interested
them immensely.

"You know, I came pretty near roping that black outlaw the day of
the tornado. Criminy, if I'd got him!"