“Hello!” he said, seeing her, “are you Dorothy Gale?”

“Yes,” she answered, looking gravely at his tousled hair and blinking gray eyes.  “Have you come to take me to Hugson’s Ranch?”

“Of course,” he answered.  “Train in?”

“I couldn’t be here if it wasn’t,” she said.

He laughed at that, and his laugh was merry and frank.  Jumping out of the buggy he put Dorothy’s suit-case under the seat and her bird-cage on the floor in front.

“Canary-birds?” he asked.

“Oh no; it’s just Eureka, my kitten.  I thought that was the best way to carry her.”

The boy nodded.

“Eureka’s a funny name for a cat,” he remarked.

“I named my kitten that because I found it,” she explained.  “Uncle Henry says ‘Eureka’ means ‘I have found it.’”

“All right; hop in.”

She climbed into the buggy and he followed her.  Then the boy picked up the reins, shook them, and said “Gid-dap!”

The horse did not stir.  Dorothy thought he just wiggled one of his drooping ears, but that was all.

“Gid-dap!” called the boy, again.

The horse stood still.

“Perhaps,” said Dorothy, “if you untied him, he would go.”

The boy laughed cheerfully and jumped out.

“Guess I’m half asleep yet,” he said, untying the horse.  “But Jim knows his business all right—­don’t you, Jim?” patting the long nose of the animal.

Then he got into the buggy again and took the reins, and the horse at once backed away from the tree, turned slowly around, and began to trot down the sandy road which was just visible in the dim light.

“Thought that train would never come,” observed the boy.  “I’ve waited at that station for five hours.”

“We had a lot of earthquakes,” said Dorothy.  “Didn’t you feel the ground shake?”

“Yes; but we’re used to such things in California,” he replied.  “They don’t scare us much.”

“The conductor said it was the worst quake he ever knew.”

“Did he?  Then it must have happened while I was asleep,” he said thoughtfully.

“How is Uncle Henry?” she enquired, after a pause during which the horse continued to trot with long, regular strides.

“He’s pretty well.  He and Uncle Hugson have been having a fine visit.”

“Is Mr. Hugson your uncle?” she asked.

“Yes.  Uncle Bill Hugson married your Uncle Henry’s wife’s sister; so we must be second cousins,” said the boy, in an amused tone.  “I work for Uncle Bill on his ranch, and he pays me six dollars a month and my board.”

“Isn’t that a great deal?” she asked, doubtfully.

“Why, it’s a great deal for Uncle Hugson, but not for me.  I’m a splendid worker.  I work as well as I sleep,” he added, with a laugh.

“What is your name?” said Dorothy, thinking she liked the boy’s manner and the cheery tone of his voice.