And carpets and curtains, too. I reckon this ranch we're coming to is going to 'blossom like the rose.'"
When they came in sight of Silver Ranch, just before evening, the guests from the East were bound to express their appreciation of the beauty of its surroundings. It was a low, broad verandahed house, covering a good deal of ground, with cookhouses and other outbuildings in the rear, and a big corral for the stock, and bunkhouses for the men. It lay in a beautiful little valley—a "coulie," Jane Ann, or Nita, called it—with green, sloping sides to the saucer-like depression, and a pretty, winding stream breaking out of the hollow at one side.
"I should think it would be damp down there," said Madge Steele, to the ranchman. "Why didn't you build your house on a knoll?"
"Them sidehills sort o' break the winds, Miss," explained Mr. Hicks. "We sometimes git some wind out yere—yes, ma'am! You'd be surprised."
They rode down to the big house and found a wide-smiling Mexican woman waiting for them on the porch. Jane Ann greeted her as "Maria" and Hicks sent her back to the kitchen to hurry supper. But everybody about the place, even Maria's husband, the "horse wrangler," a sleek looking Mexican with rings in his ears and a
