Occasionally a dust-colored car shot
past them filled with men in uniform.
"Do you ride?" asked Betty suddenly. "Uncle Dick has always wanted
me to learn, but I've never had a good chance."
"Well, you can begin to-morrow morning," Bobby informed her. "We've
three ponies that are fine under the saddle. Betty, I do wish you'd
make up your mind to live in Washington this winter. There's no
reason in the world why you shouldn't, and we were talking it over
last night, making plans for you."
"Why! that's entirely as Uncle Dick says," returned Betty,
surprised. "I haven't any say in the matter."
Bobby shot a triumphant glance toward the other girls.
"He said he hadn't much right to dictate, but I told him I knew
better," she said with satisfaction. "He wants you as much as we do,
and that's considerable, you know."
Again a wave of doubt swept over Betty. Uncle Dick had said he had
not much right to dictate! When he was her only living relative!
"Uncle hasn't a fever or anything, has he?" she asked apprehensively.
"I mean the injury to his foot hasn't, it didn't--" she floundered.
"Oh, that old hurt to his head never amounted to anything," declared
Bobby with convincing carelessness.
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