He was
a man of about forty, tall and leathery. His eyes were bubbling over
with good humor, but they could become very stern when the occasion
demanded it. Laura had become well acquainted with him during her former
visit to the ranch, and knew that the Endicotts trusted him implicitly.
While he had taught her how to ride, cowgirl fashion, she had taken a
number of snapshot photographs for him, to be sent to some relative in
the South, and for these he had been very grateful.
"We want to do a lot of riding, and a lot of hunting and fishing, too,"
said the senator's son. "Do you think we'll have a chance for much
sport?"
"I dunno," answered Sid Todd, dryly. "Might be the game will hear of
your coming and move on to the next State," and his eyes twinkled over
his little joke.
"I'd like to see some kind of a round-up," said Phil. "Will there be one
while we are here?"
"Might be, Mr.--I didn't quite catch your handle."
"Phil Lawrence. Just call me Phil."
"I will if you'll call me Todd, or Sid. I can't git used to this mister
business nohow. Besides, the boys would have the laugh on me, if they
heard you a-mistering me all the time."
"All right, Sid it is," said Dave. "And I'm Dave."
"And I am Roger," added the senator's son.
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