Breakfast was an early matter at the Six Star . It came almost with the sunrise, in fact. Genevieve had assured her guests, on the night of their arrival, however, that their breakfast might be hours later—that it might, indeed, be at any hour they pleased. But on this first morning at the ranch, there was not one guest that did not respond to the breakfast-bell except Mrs. Kennedy. The stir of life out of doors had proved an effectual rising-bell for all; and it was anything but a sleepy-looking crowd of young people that tripped into the dining-room to find the boys already waiting for them—a little quiet and shy, to be sure, but very red and shiny-looking as to face and hands, speaking loudly of a vigorous use of soap and water.  
Before the meal was half over, Mrs. Kennedy came in, only to meet a chorus of that she should have disturbed herself so early.
 
Genevieve, however, assumed a look of mock severity.
 
"Aunt Julia," she began reprovingly in so perfect an imitation of Miss Jane Chick's severest manner that Mrs. Kennedy's lips ; "didn't you hear the rising-bell, my dear? How often must I ask you not to be late to your meals?"
 
For one brief moment there was a dazed about the table; then, at sight of Cordelia's face, Genevieve lost her self-control and .
 
"Oh, but that was such a good chance," she . "Please, Aunt Julia, I just couldn't help it. I had to!"
 
"I don't doubt it," smiled back Mrs. Kennedy; and at the meaning emphasis in her voice there was a general laugh.
 
"Well, what shall we do first?" demanded Tilly, when breakfast was over.
 
Genevieve put her finger to her lips.
 
"I wonder, now. Oh, I know! Let's go out and see if they've driven in the saddle band yet; then we'll watch the boys rope them and start to work."
 
"What's a saddle band?—sounds like a girth," frowned Tilly.
 
"Humph! I reckon it isn't one, all the same," laughed Genevieve. "It's the horses the boys ride. Each one has his own string, you know."
 
"No, I don't know," retorted Tilly, aggrievedly. "And you needn't use all those funny words—'string' and 'saddle band' and 'rope them'—without explaining them, either, Genevieve Hartley. You've been talking like that ever since we came. Just as if we knew what all that meant!"
 
Genevieve laughed again.
 
"No, you don't, of course," she admitted, "any more than I understood some of your terms back East. But come; let's go out and watch the boys. One of the sheds has a lovely low, flat roof, and we can see right over into the horse corral from there. It's easy; there's a ladder. Come on!"
 
"Why, what a lot of horses!" cried Tilly, a moment later, as they stepped out of doors. "Do they ride all those?"
 
"Not this morning," laughed Genevieve. "You see, each man has his own string of horses, and he picks out some one of the bunch, and lets the rest go. That's Reddy, now, driving them into the corral. The other boys will be here pretty quick now, and the fun will begin. You'll see!"
 
The horse corral was high and circular, and there was a fine view of it from the shed roof. A snubbing post was in the middle of the corral, and a wing was built out at one side from the entrance gate, so that the horses could be driven in more easily; yet Reddy quite had his hands full as it was. At last they were all in, and a merry time they were having of it, in a circle about the enclosure, heads up, and tails and manes flying.
 
"Regular merry-go-round, isn't it?" giggled Tilly. But Cordelia clutched Genevieve's arm.
 
"Genevieve, look—they've got ropes! Genevieve, what are they going to do?" she , her eyes on the boys who were running from all directions now, toward the corral. "Why, Genevieve, they're going in there, with all those horses!"
 
"I reckon they are," rejoined the mistress of the Six Star Ranch. "Now watch, and you'll see. There!—see there?—in the middle by that post! Each man will pick out one of his own horses and rope him; then he'll lead him out and saddle him, and the deed's done."
 
"I guess that's easier to say than to do," observed Bertha, dryly. "I notice there aren't any of those horses just hanging 'round waiting to be caught!"
 
"No, there aren't, to-day," laughed Genevieve; "though some of the horses will do just that, at times—specially Long John's. They're pretty lively now, however, and it does take some skill to make a nice job of it when they're jamming and jostling like that. But the boys are equal to it. We've got some splendid ropers!" This time there was a note of very evident pride in the voice of the mistress of the Six Star Ranch.
 
It was a brief but exciting time that followed, filled, as it was, with the shouts of the boys—the at some failure, the cheers at some success—the thud of the horses' , the of the skillfully flung ropes. It was almost as exciting when the boys, their horses once caught, led out, and saddled, rode off for their morning's work. To Cordelia, especially, it was an experience never to be forgotten.
 
"Going to turn cowboy, Miss Cordelia?" asked Mr. Hartley, with a smile, as he met the girl coming into the house a little later. Mr. Hartley, in his broad-brimmed hat, and his gray tweed trousers tucked into his high boots, looked the picture of the prosperous ranchman at home.
 
Cordelia showed a distinctly shocked face.
 
"Oh, no, sir!" she cried.
 
"Don't think you could learn to swing the rope—eh?" he teased.
 
"Mercy, no!"
 
A half-proud, wholly-gratified smile crossed the man's face.
 
"It isn't as easy as it looks to be," he said. "Once in a while we get a tenderfoot out here, though, who thinks he's going to learn it all in a minute—or, rather, do it without any learning. But to be a good roper, one has to give it long, hard practice. The best of 'em begin young. Reddy, the crack roper in my , tells me he began with his mother's clothes-line at the age of four years, with his rocking-horse for a victim. It seems there was a picture in one of his books of a cowboy roping a , and—"
 
Mr. Hartley stopped, as if listening. From the rear of the house had sounded the creak of the windmill crank. The man turned, entered the hall, and crossed to the window. Then he shook his head with a smile.
 
"I'm afraid Genevieve is up to her old tricks," he said. &qu............