friend of mother's, wrote that she had a lovely big yard for me to play in. And it is the biggest yard on that street, but after the desert and the mountains that go on for miles and miles, why this is just nothing at all, and I feel as if I were a wild bronco put out on a hobble."
At which everybody laughed heartily and the ice was forever broken.
"Come over on the other side of the wall," invited Bet, and seeing the girl hesitate with a glance at the sign she added: "Oh don't mind that sign. That's only for tramps. This is my home, I'm Bet Baxter and these are my two chums, Shirley Williams and Joy Evans."
Kit hesitated once more. "Were you having a picnic or something? Perhaps I'm not wanted."
"It's a picnic and you are wanted," cried Bet. "We all want her, don't we girls? All right, give her the welcome!"
Instantly the girls raised a chorus:
"Do we want her!
Do we want her!
Yes, we do, do, do!"
This cheering call echoed through the woods and it filled the heart of the little mountain girl with happiness.
It seemed to be Kit's unlucky day, for as she climbed down the wall her skirt caught once more on the wire and completed its destruction.
"Now that dress is done for! What a clumsy colt I am! You'd think I'd never been broken to saddle!" exclaimed Kit as her brown eyes snapped. "Don't I look a sight?"
The three girls were fascinated by the stranger. She walked with long swinging strides that she had learned in climbing hills from babyhood. Even the way she expressed herself was different from the girls in the village.
"What a pity you've spoiled your dress," said Bet. "I'll have that wire taken off immediately!" she exclaimed in indignation. "That's for tramps too, but I've told Dad more than once that the wire must go. Now I'll just have to insist."
It was Kit's turn to stare in amazement, for Bet's face was stern and reproving as she spoke of her father, much as if he were a small boy who had to be punished.
"Now where I come from, fathers say what's what, and not daughters," laughed Kit. Dad Patten was a pleasant man, quiet and given to few words, but he was the one who ruled, and no one else gave orders.
"Bet is a lucky girl, Kit. She's an only child and I'll tell you a secret, she's frightfully spoiled. She does just as she pleases all the time." This was from Shirley, who had scarcely spoken before. She was not less friendly than the others but found it harder to express herself freely.
"Don't believe her, Kit," laughed Bet Baxter. "There are lots of things I'm not allowed to do. Dad is one of the best and most understanding Dads but I always do exactly as he tells me."
"That's the joke," laughed Shirley. "Her father never tells her to do anything!"
CHAPTER II
THE PICNIC
"Let's eat!" exclaimed Joy. "I'm almost starved!" She was twirling on tiptoe on the top of a flat stone. "Do let's unpack the basket!"
"And I must go. I told Mrs. Stacey I'd be back soon. If you'll just tell me which way to start out. I'm lost!" laughed Kit.
"Oh you can't get lost in Lynnwood if you'd try. All roads lead to Main Street," declared Bet.
"Or away from Main Street, as I've found out this morning!"
"Oh but you must stay for the picnic; we wouldn't enjoy it now without you," urged Joy.
"But Mrs. Stacey might worry. No, I won't start in by causing her trouble. That wouldn't be right."
"I'll tell you what I'll do," exclaimed Bet. "You girls arrange the lunch under that tree and I'll run home and telephone Mrs. Stacey. She'll say yes, I know she will."
Without waiting for Kit's assent, Bet raced up the path, her hair flying in disorder, then she disappeared in the shrubbery. In a short time she returned with the good news that Kit was to spend the afternoon and evening with the girls. Mrs. Stacey was more than delighted that her young charge had found so congenial a group of friends. Not having children of her own, she hardly knew what to do with Kit. And when Bet promised to look after her, she was greatly relieved, for everyone in Lynnwood knew the bright little daughter of Colonel Baxter and trusted her.
When Bet returned with the good news, the lunch was already spread.
"Why this isn't a lunch at all!" exclaimed Joy with enthusiasm. "It's a banquet. And one of Auntie Gibbs' special ones. Isn't she a dear! She remembered that I liked devilled eggs."
"How you flatter yourself! Don't imagine for a minute that she made those for you. They were for her own little angel, Bet," said Shirley with a quiet laugh.
"An angel is the last thing she'd call me, Shirley. I know I've been frightfully contrary lately and I'm not in Auntie Gibbs' good graces. She said the other day she wished I had come a boy; that boys were lots nicer."
"The very idea!" cried the girls together. "Boys better than girls! That's silly!"
"Well if it's boys she likes, you certainly do your best to make her happy, for you look like a boy – and act like one most of the time," teased Joy.
"Thanks for the flattery!" Bet tossed her head with a pretended air of superiority. "I'd love to be a boy!"
"What would you do?" asked Joy.
"I'd run away to sea!"
"Old stuff! Take a big jump and get up to date!" Joy came back at her with a snap.
"Why be so old fashioned?" laughed Shirley. "Do something modern!"
"Maybe I'd stow away on an airplane then, going to China."
"That's more like you, Bet Baxter. That sea stuff never appealed to me. They always were made to work. And there isn't much work on an airplane," said Joy helping herself to another devilled egg.
"Do unwrap that package there," cried Shirley. "Let's see what Auntie Gibbs made for me. Chicken sandwiches, oh boy! And Auntie Gibbs' chicken sandwiches are the best ever, aren't they?"
"We ought to know," laughed Bet. "We've eaten about a ton of them. – Here Kit, do help yourself. Have another egg."
Kit had never tasted such a lunch. And it was all put up in such an appetizing way, it seemed a pity to disturb it. Everything was wrapped in wax paper or put up in small jars. There was actually a dish of crisp salad. There were stuffed olives and Bet grasped the jar with a little cry:
"Let's see if it is Auntie Gibbs' special. Oh girls, it is, it is! Auntie Gibbs' stuffed olives!"
"Well she has outdone herself!" Joy was munching an olive as she showered praise on the old housekeeper at the Manor.
"You know, Kit," explained Bet, "these stuffed olives are Auntie Gibbs' own invention and what goes into the filling of them, no one knows but herself. It's her secret!"
"And it's a secret to the death!" laughed Shirley. "She says she'll never tell and when she dies she will bequeath the recipe to her best friend. Won't that sound funny in a will?"
Kit laughed
