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 b.u.t.tonholes, 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 la.s.so, 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 att.i.tudes, 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 Senorita, 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 ma.s.sive shoulders.

"That _nina_ 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, Senorita, she is spoiled for lack of thrashing. Run off on the Senorita'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.

"Senorita 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 a.s.sembled. 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.