"if the misery In my back wasn't a little mite onery this mornin'. Racketing about in that contraption o' yours, I reckon, wouldn't be the best kind of liniment for cricks like mine."
So only Mr. Gordon, Betty and Bob started for the fields.
"I saw a horse that I think will about suit you, Betty," said her uncle when they were well away from the house. "I'm having it sent out to-morrow. She is reputed gentle and used to being ridden by a woman. Then, if we can pick up some kind of a nag for Bob, you two needn't be tied down to the farm. All the orders I have for you is that you're to keep away from the town. Ride as far into the country as you like."
"But, Mr. Gordon," protested Bob, "I don't want you to get a horse for me! I'd rather have a job. Isn't there something I can do out at the oil fields? I'm used to looking out for myself."
"Look here, young man," came the reply with mock severity, "I thought I told you you had a job on your hands looking after Betty. I meant it. I can't go round on these inspection trips unless I can feel that she is all right. And, by the way, have you any objection to calling me Uncle Dick? I think I rather fancy the idea of a nephew."
Bob, of course, felt more at ease then, and
