home without some bad accident happening. You-all are so reckless."
"Now Uncle Bill! don't you go to croaking," she returned, lightly. "Ain't no danger of trouble at all. We'll only be out one night. We'll go down to Camp Number Three—that's nearest."
"No, sir-ree! Them boys air too triflin' a crew," declared the ranchman. "Jib is bossing the Rolling River outfit just now. You can go over there. I can trust Jib."
As the rest of the party was so enthusiastic, and all determined to spend a night at Number Two Camp on the Rolling River Range, Mary Cox elected to go likewise. She declared she did not wish to remain at the ranch-house in the sole care of a "fat and greasy Mexican squaw," as she called the cook.
"Ouch! I bet that stings Maria when she knows how you feel about her," chuckled Heavy. "Why let carking care disturb your serenity, Mary? Come on and enjoy yourself like the rest of us."
"I don't expect to enjoy myself in any party that's just run by one girl," snapped Mary.
"Who's that?' asked the stout girl, in wonder.
"Ruth Fielding. She bosses everything. She thinks this is all her own copyrighted show—like
