"'Mr. Jack Chapin,'" read the owner of the Flying Heart Ranch. "'Dear Jack: I couldn't wait for Covington, so meet with brass- band and fireworks this afternoon. Have flowers in bloom in the little park beside the depot, and see that the daisies nod to me.--J. Wallingford Speed.'" "Park, eh?" said Fresno, dryly. "Telegraph office, water-tank, and a cattle-chute. Where does this fellow think he is?" "Here is a postscript," added Chapin. "'I have a valet who does not seem to enjoy the trip. Divide a kiss among the girls.'" "Well, well! He's stingy with his kisses," observed Berkeley. "Who is this humorous party?" "He was a Freshman at Yale the year I graduated," explained Jack. "Too bad he never got out of that class." It was evident that Mr. Speed's levity made no impression upon the Glee Club tenor. "He hates to talk about himself, doesn't he?" "I think he is very clever," said Miss Blake, warmly. "How well do you know him?" "Not as well as I'd like to." Fresno puffed at his little pipe without remarking at this. "Well, who wants to go and meet him?" queried Jack. "Won't you?" asked his sister. "I can't. I've just got word from the Eleven X that I'm wanted. The foreman is hurt. I may not be back for some time." "Nigger Mike met me," observed Fresno, darkly. "Then Nigger Mike for Speed," laughed the cattle-man. "I've told Carara to hitch up the pintos for me. I must be going." "I'll see that you are safely started," said the young widow; and leaving the trio on the gallery, they entered the house. When they had gone, Jean smiled wisely at Helen. "Roberta's such a thoughtful chaperon," she observed, whereupon Miss Blake giggled.