"Would you-all keer if we-all ast as much as twenty to a time?" asked Sary, fearfully.
"Ask forty, if you like--and if you can find them," laughed Mrs. Brewster, recklessly.
"Only see to it that they leave the roof, Sary," ha-hawed Sam Brewster. "And that the sky-larkin' is all over when we return."
Sary nodded understandingly. She had instantly planned how to create envy in the souls of her old friends at Yellow Jacket Pass, by asking them all to her parties.
The Brewsters sent John a wire to say that they would spend a few hours in Chicago, and would like him to keep that time open. But when they reached Chicago, John was standing on the platform holding a suit-case in his hand. Tom Latimer and Paul Stewart stood beside him.
John explained: "Paul and Tom are going, too. Some good fairy sent us round-trip tickets, but we don't know who it was. Not a line came with the tickets. So here we are--ready to help in the surprise."
John then introduced Paul, and Mrs. Brewster took his hand as she looked into his face. "You are the image of our Anne, Paul; I would have known you anywhere."
"That he is," added Sam Brewster, shaking Paul's hand heartily. So the party of five continued on the journey, smiling as they pictured the glad surprise to be given the family at the Studio. Little did they dream that the Studio family were busy preparing for a gladsome Christmas for them all. For Mr. Latimer had told them about the telegram from Pebbly Pit, and that he had heard from Tom that he and John and Paul were going to join the party coming East. But he did not say that he, incognito, had mailed the tickets.
The Twentieth Century had a long line of Pullmans to take to New York that trip, and it was small wonder that passengers having berths in the last coach, should fail to meet anyone traveling in the first one. So it was with speechless amazement, that the Brewsters met the Maynards at Grand Central Station when both parties were waiting to get taxi-cabs.
"Well, well, Ah believe it's Mr. Maynard!" exclaimed Sam Brewster, in his deep western thunder.
"Brewster? so it is! Indeed I am glad to see you here. Come to cheer up the little girl, eh?" and Eleanor's father grasped the ranchman's big hands.