The Project Gutenberg eBook of Polly in the Southwest, by Lillian Elizabeth Roy
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
using this eBook.
Title: Polly in the Southwest
Author: Lillian Elizabeth Roy
Illustrator: H. S. Barbour
Release Date: December 31, 2021 [eBook #67057]
Language: English
Produced by: Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images
made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLY IN THE SOUTHWEST ***
POLLY IN THE SOUTHWEST
[Illustration: ALGY MEASURED HIS FULL LENGTH UPON THE FLOOR.]
POLLY IN THE SOUTHWEST
BY
LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY
AUTHOR OF
POLLY OF PEBBLY PIT,
POLLY AND ELEANOR,
POLLY IN NEW YORK,
POLLY AND HER FRIENDS ABROAD,
POLLY’S BUSINESS VENTURE,
POLLY’S SOUTHERN CRUISE,
POLLY IN SOUTH AMERICA.
ILLUSTRATED BY
H. S. BARBOUR
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
Copyright, 1925, by GROSSET & DUNLAP
CONTENTS
I News from Dodo
II Old Friends Once More
III Dodo Joins the Ranks
IV Jack and Algy Entertain
V Impromptu Amusements
VI Albuquerque Festivities
VII Jack’s Valet Duties
VIII Mr. Alexander’s Ruse
IX Surprises All Around
X Hold-ups Along the Way
XI What Happened on Humphrey’s Peak
XII Two Weeks Later
XIII Dalky’s Story
XIV Letters East and West
XV Dalky Takes a Vacation
XVI Arrivals in Los Angeles
POLLY IN THE SOUTHWEST
CHAPTER I
NEWS FROM DODO
Mr. Dalken’s southern cruise had come to an end, much to Polly’s and
Eleanor’s regret. Though there had been discomforts and many
unlooked for incidents throughout the voyage to the West Indies, and
to both coasts of South America, the entire yachting party had
thoroughly enjoyed the long pleasure trip.
Now they were back in prosaic, old New York, with its eternal
clatter and bang of hustling affairs, and the crush and rush of the
mobs of strangers or the workers at recess hours; but they seemed to
be tense and nervous at such metropolitan confusion. Mr. Dalken
laughed, as he escorted his party from the _White Crest_, upon its
arrival at the dock of the Yacht Club—every one seemed irritable
and displeased with the city.
“What an awful din!” exclaimed Eleanor, closing her ears with her
forefingers.
“I only wish we were back in Buenos Aires—they never make such a
deafening racket there,” added Jack, frowning, as a pushcart owner
bawled his wares directly back of the young dandy’s ear.
Jack’s friends laughed appreciatively at the foreigner’s timely
shout, and Jack scowled at the unconscious offender. Then, as if to
provide still more amusement for the members of the
party,—excepting Jack, of course,—the Italian tried to avoid a
mud-puddle in the asphalt, just as the young New Yorker sprang
lightly over it. The result was Jack collided with the rickety cart,
which was filled with over-ripe bananas and lemons.
The unexpected blow from the corner of the cart sent Jack sprawling
upon the street, and the pyramid of fruit descended instantaneously
upon him, then bounced in every direction, giving the ever-present
street urchins an unusual treat.
Eleanor, the irrepressible, began to sing: “Yes, we have no
bananas,” but this ridiculous ditty failed to calm Jack’s annoyance.
The laughter from not only his friends, but from every one who had
witnessed the funny episode, made him turn upon the outraged vendor.
“What do you mean, by running me down like that?” demanded Jack,
glaring at the still petrified foreigner. As though this demand
loosed the pent-up torrent of the man’s grief, he deluged the cosmos
with his heart-wrung lamentations. Mr. Dalken and Mrs. Courtney
understood Italian, and they could sympathize with the poor man,
whose tale of woe might have melted a stone image. Even Jack could
not cope with the volubility of the peddler.
Finally, Mr. Dalken stepped over and took out his wallet. Instantly,
the bereaved man’s face changed its expression, and his voice died
down to a murmur of anticipation.
“Here’s a ten dollar bill, my man. See to it that your eleven
children, now dependent upon your fruit-sales, are comfortably fed
to-day. You say they have had nothing to eat for three days—not
even such bad fruit as you have on sale—so I am sending this to
them.” As he handed the money to the vendor, the Italian broke forth
in a new strain—one of heaping blessings upon the great
monseigneur, the bounteous gentleman!
“I just know he will pick up every lemon and black banana he can
find the moment we are out of sight!” declared Nancy Fabian, smiling
as she touched upon the truth.
“_I_ wouldn’t have been so easy, Dalky,” grumbled Jack, trying to
remove some of the dirt from his coat.
“I wasn’t spending my money, Jack—don’t worry over that! I thought,
seeing that you caused the trouble, that I would apply a part of
your quarterly income to assuage the misery of the father of eleven
little New Americans,” explained Mr. Dalken.
The blank look of disgust upon Jack’s face brought forth another
ripple of laughter at his expense.
Thus teasing the young man in the party, and laughing or talking
eagerly of everything they saw, the four girls followed their elders
to the subway station.
But I anticipate: perhaps you are not acquainted with these happy
young friends, who just came from the beautiful private yacht, the
_White Crest_! In order to introduce you, before the girls proceed
to Mr. Dalken’s apartment where they were to have luncheon that day,
I will leave them for a short time during their ride on the subway.
Polly Brewster, the favorite in Mr. Dalken’s group of young friends,
had been born and raised in Colorado. Her home, a great ranch
located in the crater of an extinct volcano known upon the map as
“The Devil’s Grave,” had been renamed by Rancher Brewster, “Pebbly
Pit,” because of the marvelous Rainbow Cliffs which formed one of
the boundary walls of the crater. These cliffs were composed of
great masses of colored stones, which were readily broken from the
towering wall. All about the foot of the cliffs were scattered tons
of these shining pebbles. At the back of the wall ran the queer
formations of lava which took grotesque forms, such as statues of
men and animals. This undulating stretch of hardened lava became
known to the surrounding ranchers as “The Imps” and the “Devil’s
Causeway.”
Since Polly had left her western home to study a course of interior
decorating in New York City, the Rainbow Cliffs and the mass of
hardened lava which extended far back of the colored, pebbly wall
had been transformed by modern machinery set up on the grounds, to
cut the lava-jewels into marketable gems. This work, started after
the group of wide-awake financiers headed by Mr. Dalken had seen the
great possibilities in the stones, now provided most of the income
by which Polly, as well as some of her friends, found it possible to
travel luxuriously wherever inclination invited them.
This powerful company might never have been formed, had not
circumstances developed from that first meeting of Eleanor Maynard
and Polly Brewster, at the Colorado ranch where Eleanor went to
spend the summer. But, then, you must read that story called “Polly
of Pebbly Pit,” if you would know how Anne Stewart, the teacher,
took Eleanor and her sister Barbara out of their society atmosphere
in Chicago, and suddenly transported them to the simple but
wholesome life of a ranch. And then, how Polly took her new friends
for a trip to Grizzly Slide, where they encountered the terrific
blizzard which was instrumental in leading them willy-nilly into a
gold-mine.
The gold-mine, so thrillingly discovered, eventually founded the
beginning of Polly and Eleanor’s introduction to the world—a world
of New York adventures, European travels, business experiences, and
touring or cruising with their millionaire, self-appointed guardian,
“Dalky,” in company with other chosen friends.
The last tour Mr. Dalken had planned and carried out very
successfully was the Southern Cruise, with the Fabians, the Ashbys,
John Baxter,—always called “Jack”—and the two girls, Polly and
Eleanor, with their intimate friend and chaperon, Mrs. Courtney.
Nancy Fabian and Ruth Ashby had been members of Polly and Eleanor’s
party in Europe, hence they seemed very much like girls in one
family—so intimately acquainted had they all become with each
other.
We left Polly and her circle of friends on board the _White Crest_,
just after it had resumed its homeward voyage from Cayenne, and now,
in this present book of adventures, we meet the girls after landing
in New York City. They may have been glad to get home, to replenish
a limited wardrobe such as they had been advised to take on board
the yacht, when she sailed from New York for the South American
tour; but they also felt poignant regret at having to say good-by to
the good times they had had.
Consequently, the four girls, to say nothing of Jack, sat about Mr.
Dalken’s large dining-table, after their elders had left the room to
discuss politics and current events of New York City. They were
wondering whether Dalky would feel disposed to invite them again on
board his yacht, should he return to Colombia, in company with Mr.
Fuzzier, to inspect the plans of the great railroad and canal system
which the group of financiers had developed during their voyage
between Cayenne and New York.
“Well, now, girls,” ventured Jack Baxter, “I’ll promise you this
much—if Dalky will consent to my sharing an interest in this new
project of his, I will move heaven and earth to include you in the
prospecting party. But there must be no frills or furbelows,
understand? In fact, I’m sure you’ll have to travel minus cold cream
and beauty make-up, on such a tramp to the interior—it will mean
riding-breeches and such, to facilitate progress through the Amazon
jungle, no doubt.”
Since no one took Jack seriously, the girls now laughed at his grave
expression and businesslike tone. It was not compatible with their
knowledge of Jack, to believe him in earnest about this new mining
scheme of the group of capitalists—a scheme that meant hard work
and many sacrifices of luxuries and comforts. Jack had never been
known to give up his lazy self-indulgences, hence the girls’
laughter.
A short time after the older members in the party had left the
luncheon table, Mr. Dalken returned with a great sheaf of letters in
his hand. In the other hand he held an open sheet of paper, which he
had been reading just before entering the dining-room.
“Well, children, here’s news, all right! I had my mail for the past
week held here to await my return to the city; and now, with other
letters which had not been forwarded since we left Cayenne, I find a
letter from Ebeneezer Alexander—Dodo’s father, you know.”
“Oh, yes!” was the chorus to this announcement, and the four girls,
as well as Jack, expressed eager interest in the contents of the
letter.
“He writes me a few personal bits of information regarding certain
mining interests we have in common in Arizona, and then he goes on
to report favorably on the gold mine at Choko’s Find. He seems to
have solved the problem of getting at the vein without starting a
landslide every time one winks at the peak. He is enthusiastic and
tremendously interested in the possible outcome of his
investigations and makes expert miner’s suggestions to John Brewster
and Tom Latimer. If the tests he now has under way, prove to be
reliable experiments, our troubles over the Lost Claim may be buried
and forgotten. That leaves us free for new troubles.”
Mr. Dalken smiled as he explained this much of the letter, and,
finding his audience about to storm him with questions, he held up a
hand for silence, and anticipated some of the queries about to be
made.
“I know—you all want to know about Dodo! Is she with her Dad at the
ranch in Colorado? or is she home with her mother? Is she as
enthusiastic over interior decorating as ever—or has she deserted
the ranks, for a beau? Is she willing to join an expedition to the
North Pole, or will she prefer to spend her millions in eating bon
bons and growing obese like her mother? All of which I cannot
answer, but which you girls may have the opportunity to ask
personally very soon, provided you can be induced to turn your backs
upon New York’s charm, and give your enlivening company to a sear,
old man like me.”
“What do you mean, Dalky?” demanded Nancy Fabian.
“Is this an invitation to go somewhere?” asked Ruth Ashby.
“Dalky—are we off for another adventure?” exclaimed Eleanor
Maynard, eagerly.
“Oh! Dalky is going west to inspect the mines, and he wants us to go
with him!” declared Polly, clasping her hands, anxiously.
Jack said nothing, because he knew he would learn sooner by keeping
quiet. And he was right in his surmise.
“Polly comes nearer the truth than you realize; but I’m sure she has
Choko’s Find and the Rainbow Cliffs in mind, when she refers to the
‘mines’; but I have the mines of Southern Arizona mentioned here in
this letter—and those are the ones I will have to visit without
loss of time. In fact, I should have joined Alexander more than
three weeks before this, but I failed to receive his cable which was
sent to Rio de Janeiro. Possibly we had just left there before it
arrived. Now, however, there is no excuse for my dallying in New
York when tremendous interests depend upon my personal visit to
certain holdings out west. You all know of the plans on foot, to
incorporate a land company to exploit and open up the interior of
the northern section of South America, and as stock-holders in that
company organized on board the _White Crest_, you appreciate the
necessity of unlimited capital. Mr. Alexander’s letter offers me a
remarkable method of securing necessary funds for the work that Mr.
Fuzzier and I hope to launch very shortly. Hence, my haste in saying
farewell to New York again, and taking my little kit-bag and
starting west. How I should long to have agreeable company with
me—provided such friends could be prevailed upon to pass up a
shopping season in New York. I shall bear no grudge against the
attractive shops, however, should my feminine contingent decide in
favor of new styles and ravishing gewgaws.”
“Oh, Dalky!” rebuked Nancy Fabian.
“You know better than that, Dalky!” remonstrated Ruth.
“I’m ready to start west on the Twentieth Century—leaves at
two-twenty,” declared Eleanor, positively, causing all to laugh at
her.
“How fortunate, Dalky, that your plans fit in so nicely with my
own,” remarked Polly, a twinkle in her eyes. “I am about to go home
to visit my family, and to judge for myself how the climate of
Arizona agrees with Dodo.”
Mr. Dalken laughed outright. Then Jack cleared his throat and
murmured: “Yes; Polly was speaking to me confidentially, not two
minutes before you joined us, of the pleasure it would give her if I
would use my persuasive powers in inducing you to consider our
invitation to visit Pebbly Pit.”
The stares from the girls made Mr. Dalken laugh again, but he
hastened to reply to his ward’s invitation. “Fine, Jack! I always
try to save a dollar, in order to have the more to spend upon other
things; now I shall gladly avail myself of this agreeable and
convenient invitation, thereby saving all the expense of a western
journey. But you do not say how far nor how long this invitation is
to last me. Am I to infer that you propose paying all my expenses
throughout the western trip?”
Jack was equal to his guardian’s question. “The invitation we had in
mind to extend to you is for a visit to Pebbly Pit. Nothing was said
about expenses of getting there, or of getting back again. It is
immaterial to the host and hostess how their guests arrive—by air,
rail or afoot. Therefore I would advise you to take enough carfare
to insure you a seat in a train, in case your cross-country walking
grows too fatiguing.”
The girls now laughed in their turn, and Mr. Dalken added: “Who will
pay your fare—you have overdrawn your quarterly account, you know,
by running down that poor fruit peddler.”
“I have a plan which will provide for all my needs during the next
few months, and render the greatest service to a friend, at the same
time,” was Jack’s surprising news.
“Indeed! May I ask what that plan is?” asked his guardian.
“You may, since you are the friend I hope to serve.”
“I may be the friend, but I doubt whether your services are very
helpful to me—I judge entirely by past services, understand?”
retorted Mr. Dalken, gazing quizzically at the young man.
Jack tilted back in his chair, and thrust his hand down into his
trousers pockets; then he glanced impishly up at his guardian. “Why,
I’ve discovered how necessary a valet is to your comfort and decent
appearance in public, and I have applied for and accepted the
position as valet to your respected self. That engagement includes
all traveling expenses of mine, and leaves you ample time and
leisure to enjoy your journey with these young ladies. It is an
ideal combination.”
Jack’s plans, inspired upon the moment’s demand, provided fun and
laughter for some time thereafter. Mr. Dalken had to sit down, he
laughed so heartily at the very idea of his ward doing any kind of
service for another. But Polly, by her remark, put Jack on his
mettle.
“If I were Dalky, I’d make you live up to that agreement—there are
four witnesses to what was said, and you ought to prove what stuff
is in you, then you can win Dalky’s consent to your going to South
America with our other boys, when Mr. Fuzzier is ready to launch his
land-operations.”
“Of course I meant what I just said, Dalky,” insisted Jack. And to
his utter amazement his guardian took him at his word.
“Done, Jack! You go west with me, to attend to my wants and to
receive for your valet services all expenses and a hundred dollars a
month. For that, I shall expect you to look after my comforts, the
traveling accommodations, hotel suites, autos, and what-not. You may
have every other Sunday off for yourself, and an evening once a
week. All your other time belongs to me—not even a chance for a
little flirtation with a pretty girl on the train, or out on the
deserts of Arizona.”
“And how about the girls you take with you—any chance for Jack to
say a word to them, now or then?” laughed Eleanor.
“That depends! If such words do not conflict with my own, I may
overlook the unusual behavior on the part of a valet.”
Mrs. Courtney now entered the room, and wanted to know what could be
so absorbing that no one at the table had heard the summons from
those in the living-room. Before she could quite conclude her
questioning, an avalanche of explanations overwhelmed her. In the
confusion of voices, she could not get the drift of what it meant,
so Mr. Dalken led her back to the other room and there he explained
to his friends what he had told the girls—and he added, he had
secured five companions for his western journey. It would develop,
as soon as he had outlined his trip, how many more wished to
accompany him.
In another moment, he was the center of interest, and all was hushed
in anticipation of what was about to be revealed.
CHAPTER II
OLD FRIENDS ONCE MORE
In spite of persuasions, threats, and prophecies of good times to be
missed, the Ashbys and Fabians could not be induced to join the
proposed party to the Southwest. Mr. Ashby declared that he would
have to attend strictly to business after his long vacation, or
Polly and Eleanor would have the opportunity for which they said
they were waiting—the chance to succeed Mr. Ashby in his enviable
shops. Naturally, learning that her husband would not think of
leaving the city, Mrs. Ashby was firm in the decision to remain
home, too. Ruth did not wish to leave her mother, so that eliminated
the three Ashbys from Mr. Dalken’s list.
The Fabians were not to be cajoled into going west with the rest of
their friends, because they maintained that New York, being their
home, was the place for them to recuperate after the delightful
though lazy life on board the yacht. Mr. Fabian said that laziness
was a disease which must be cured by hard work for a time, if his
family hoped to live during the approaching winter. Nancy found keen
enjoyment in being with her old friends again, and so she preferred
to remain in the city.
Consequently Mr. Dalken’s party consisted of Polly and Eleanor, with
Mrs. Courtney as chaperon, and Jack Baxter. Mr. Dalken, of course,
since he was the prime leader on this tour. Where they would
eventually find themselves, no one knew, because that had not yet
been revealed to any one.
“All we now know is this,” laughed Mr. Dalken, the last night the
friends met at his apartment to bid the travelers good-by, “that we
are on our way, and that way may criss-cross the country many times
before we reach California.”
“But you promised us that we should see California, Dalky, because
there is where we are dying to go,” exclaimed Eleanor.
“California is a great state, my child,” declared Jack, paternally;
“and Hollywood is but one small section of it. I should not blame
poor Dalky, in the least, if he led you three aspirants for the
screen _away_ from Hollywood, instead of _to_ it.”
This was in the light of a revelation. “Ah!” laughed Mr. Dalken,
“now I understand why this intense eagerness to visit California for
an extended time. But let me warn you, fair ones—I shall see to it
that I am not deprived of my traveling companions just at the time I
shall have leisure to enjoy their society. Forewarned is forearmed,
you know.”
“Yes,” retorted Polly, “that adage is as good for us as for you,
Dalky.”
“Besides,” added Mrs. Courtney, shaking an accusing finger at Jack,
“it was that valet’s own proposition that we remain in Hollywood
long enough to have a fling at a movie! He thinks his handsome
person may find fame and fortune in posing before the cameras.”
The laugh now turned upon Jack, and he had no denial ready. Thus,
laughing and joking, the little group passed a merry evening, until
the Ashbys said it was time to say good-by and start for home. Soon
Mr. Dalken was left alone with Jack to complete the last few items
of their packing.
The following day found all baggage on the way west, and Mr. Dalken,
with his party, on board the Chicago Express, leaving New York
behind. When the forms upon the platform became a blurred spot,
Polly and Eleanor returned from the observation platform and sat
down with their friends, Mr. Dalken, Mrs. Courtney and Jack.
“Well, here we are,” declared Eleanor, “not a month since we landed
in the city, and off again for another jaunt.”
“I only hope this trip will prove to be as enlightening to you young
ladies as the last one must have been,” Jack replied.
“Enlightening! I do not understand you,” said Polly.
“Oh, geographically, I mean! You must admit, girls, that your ideas
of South America were completely reversed. Did you dream of finding
such transportation systems as we enjoyed—from Lake Titicaca to La
Paz, for instance? And then to behold such vast tracts of nerve
tonic as Nolla found up in the nitrate fields.”
The merry laugh which followed this remembrance,—now a funny
experience of the past, but once a most painful incident of
traveler’s luck—launched memory in reviewing other laughable
episodes, and many a smile and giggle drew the attention of other
passengers in the Pullman to the happy group.
After a delicious dinner in the dining-car, Mr. Dalken led his
protégés back to their compartments once more. Then he showed them
the sketch of a map he had made before deciding finally on this
journey.
“You can see by this map that we propose to stay in Chicago for a
few days, while I interview Fuzzier and his capitalists about the
Land Development Company. During those few days Eleanor will have an
opportunity to visit her home and family, and the others may visit
the Public Library and ascertain where the richest veins of ore can
be found in Arizona. It may prove advantageous, in case you decide
to stake claims which the United Verde Company overlooked.” Mr.
Dalken traced the pencil-line upon the paper, from Chicago to
Flagstaff, Arizona, and then showed his audience where the Verde was
to be found.
“But, Dalky, you do not propose to go straight to Arizona, after
leaving Chicago, do you?” asked Polly, wonderingly.
“Not unless you have good reasons to avoid going to Pebbly Pit,”
returned he, trying to control a smile, as he thought of Tom Latimer
eagerly awaiting Polly’s arrival.
Polly frowned. “The main reason of wanting to visit home was the
longing to see mother and father, and John and Anne.”
“Oh, yes! I see,” teased Jack. “Sary and Jeb have no part in your
life, and the star-boarder at Pebbly Pit has been forgotten, eh?” By
“star-boarder,” Jack referred to Tom, who, with John, had remained
on the premises to guard and superintend the mines and their output.
Polly flushed angrily, and Mrs. Courtney, thinking that the teasing
was becoming too personal, quickly changed the subject, by saying:
“Time to retire, I see. The porter wants to make up the berths.”
Every individual in their party had been flying around during the
past few days, and now that all necessity for haste and hurry was
over they felt the reaction. Hence, Mrs. Courtney’s suggestion to
retire was hailed without protest. There may have been those on that
train that passed a sleepless night, but not so with any one in the
Dalken group.
The next morning they realized that Chicago was nearer than they had
thought possible, because so much time had been given to sleep. So,
when Jack laughingly played the part of valet and gathered up the
bags in order to hand them to the colored porter, the girls gazed
from the windows to assure themselves that they were really pulling
in at the Chicago terminal.
Mr. Maynard had been wired that his daughter and others in her party
were to arrive in Chicago on the noon train, and the moment they
stepped from the car, he was seen to be awaiting them. In another
moment, Eleanor was being smothered against a broad, fatherly
breast, and the other friends were smiling sympathetically at Mr.
Maynard’s joy.
“Well, well, well! Where is my little tom-boy? I here behold a tall,
up-to-date young woman, whom I almost dread to hug,” exclaimed Mr.
Maynard, holding Eleanor off at arm’s length.
“Nothing of the kind!” retorted Eleanor, making a dive and throwing
both arms about her father’s neck. “If you have any compunction
about hugging in public, your daughter hasn’t!”
“I can verify that, Mr. Maynard,” added Mr. Dalken, smiling, to hide
his own feelings as he thought of his daughter, Elizabeth, and her
habitual aversion to him and his affection. “We find it very
embarrassing, at times, to control Nolla’s desire to hang about our
dignified necks.”
“Pooh!” was all the answer vouchsafed him. But Mr. Maynard laughed
happily—he would have laughed at any silly thing, so glad was he to
have his pet with him again.
The days in Chicago passed swiftly by for those who were to continue
on their way to Pebbly Pit. Mr. Maynard gave every moment of his
time to his guests,—they had been induced to accept his
hospitality, instead of going to a hotel,—and Mr. Dalken found
ample time in which to discuss finance with Mr. Fuzzier and the
select group of bankers he had interested in his plans to develop
the interior of Colombia. Mr. Maynard had already heard the inside
information of the scheme, and he had signed up to join the
speculators in this vast undertaking.
Finally came the day when Eleanor said good-by to her parents and
friends again, and the eager members of Mr. Dalken’s party started
on their way to Pebbly Pit.
How familiar seemed the prairie lands to Polly, as the train steamed
across the vast plains, and began to approach Denver! Then came a
hasty change from the Chicago Express to the local for Oak Creek,
and at last the travelers were on the final ride of that journey to
Polly’s ranch-home.
More than a year had passed since Polly had visited the mining
settlement, where the train stopped to accommodate passengers for
and from the surrounding country-side. And in that year great
progress had been made in the growth and improvement of the place.
Polly was astonished to see the mushroomlike rapidity with which the
two-story houses had replaced the shacks of the old town; and now
streets were laid out and lighted for the convenience of towns-folk,
as well as for the ranchers.
The Brewsters had come in full force to welcome the expected
friends, and joyous were the shouts of the young people, when all
were gathered upon the railway platform. In fact, so eager seemed
every one in that circle that no one paid heed to what the others
said—but each one laughed and talked effusively without regard to
subject.
Two huge ranch-wagons had been requisitioned to hold the happy
individuals now about to drive to Pebbly Pit; nor did any one notice
the rough trail, nor the long trip, before the first glimpse of
Rainbow Cliffs came to view.
Here Polly found the greatest change in her old environment: the
great grinding mill, the shafts which worked the apparatus used in
moving the tons of stones to the mills, and the small railroad train
and tiny engine which transported the rough jewels to the
packinghouse. And all this activity was well hidden from the sight,
by the natural depression of the Devil’s Causeway, with the peaks
called “The Imps” standing in front like a screen.
Polly seemed genuinely glad to see Tom Latimer again, and Tom’s
heart leaped high when he realized that his beloved seemed inclined
to treat him kindly once more.
Tom had been taking lessons of Anne, since his farewell to Polly at
Palm Beach—now seemingly such a long time ago! And it promised a
relieved frame of mind for Polly, if Tom would but adhere to Anne’s
repeated advices and instructions to him. That remained to be seen!
[Illustration: SARY CAME BOUNDING OUT TO MEET THEM.]
As the ranch-wagons stopped at the wide porch of the solidly-built
house which Polly remembered so well, Eleanor and she gazed in
wide-eyed astonishment at the _smallness_ of the structure. It had
been remembered as being a large, low building; but after all their
tours of Europe, South America, and the recent views of the New York
and the Chicago sky-scrapers, Polly’s old home seemed almost too
small to accommodate all these visitors.
Sary came bounding out of the kitchen door, much the same Sary as
the one who had welcomed Eleanor and her sister the day they first
arrived at Pebbly Pit. Then Jeb shuffled up with a sheepish
expression to greet the new-comers. Mr. Dalken knew just how to
reach the hearts of others, and he shook hands with Sary and Jeb,
saying, as he did so, that he had a token from South America for
them in his baggage. That gave him the place of honor, during that
visit to the ranch.
Mr. Alexander had been at the gold mine all that week, and John
explained to the eager questioners that he would be back the
following morning. He had been determined to attend personally to
such interests at Choko’s Find as might be bettered by his presence
and expert advice; and, since he would be absent so long on the
proposed trip to Arizona, he thought it best to forego the pleasure
of being present when the guests arrived at the ranch.
The next two weeks sped swiftly by, and then came the time when,
business conferences over between the men, the Dalken party, with
Mr. Alexander taking the place of guide instead of Mr. Dalken, were
on the eve of departure for Arizona and new adventures in the
southwest.
“We’ll be wondering what you are doing to-morrow, this time,”
remarked Polly, _apropos_ of her mother’s saying that the place
would seem deserted after the young folks had gone.
“Tom will be able to keep us informed upon those points,” was Mr.
Alexander’s reply. “He is well-acquainted with the ranch-rule, and
all we have to do, when we need information, will be to ask him what
time the folks do this, or what are the home-people doing now.”
Polly looked surprised and failed to grasp Mr. Alexander’s meaning.
Eleanor must have sensed it, however, for she quickly exclaimed:
“Will Tom be sitting at a radio-instrument, or does he carry a
pocket-telephone around with him, that he can answer the moment we
wish to call him up?” She laughed, but her words showed she wished
to be given a cue to Mr. Alexander’s speech.
“Why, no! Tom will be right beside you to reply, if you are kind
enough to permit it,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“Tom! You don’t mean he is going with us, do you?” asked Polly, too
amazed to disguise her annoyance.
At this tone, Tom forgot Anne’s wise admonitions and flared up in
anger. “Yes, I am! I find that every one but you seems anxious to
have my company on this excursion, because they understand that I am
of some value to them. However, that need not interfere with _your_
happiness,—I’ll take mighty good care not to come within ten rods
of you, when it can be helped!” Polly was so astonished at Tom’s
irritation and his words that she stared at him in silence. Eleanor
almost laughed outright at the expression upon her chum’s face.
Jack mumbled something about “The worm hath turned,” and Mrs.
Courtney gave him a vicious dig in the ribs to silence him. Then she
whispered behind Polly’s back: “You’ll go and ruin everything, you
rascal!”
Tom now got up and, saying “Good-night,” stalked from the room. No
one saw him again that evening, and in the early morning, when the
heavy wagon drew up to the steps for the visitors, Tom was already
seated beside Jeb. It developed, then, that he had said good-by to
the Brewster family before the Dalken party had appeared for
breakfast.
During the long drive over the trails which led to Oak Creek, Tom
devoted his attention to Jeb. When the wagon pulled up at the
horse-trough near the station, Tom shook hands with Jeb and sprang
down to assist Mrs. Courtney in alighting. Then he escorted her to
the platform and stood conversing with her until the local steamed
into the station. He had not spoken a word to Polly since the
previous evening.
In the train, he seated himself beside Mrs. Courtney and entertained
her with accounts of the tremendous undertaking of safely mining the
gold ore from Choko’s Find on Grizzly Slide. In fact, so well did he
fulfill his part, that that lady voted him one of the most
intelligent and courteous young men she had ever met. At the same
time she could not understand how Polly Brewster could help loving
Tom with all her heart. He was handsome, well-bred, highly educated,
and had all the money a girl might crave—and best of all, he had
loved her with the earnestness, persistence, and whole-mindedness of
his one-track heart.
“Well, I’m going to see to it that that girl has her eyes opened
during this trip!” thought Mrs. Courtney to herself.
But Polly and Eleanor were whispering between themselves, and their
plotting might be considered along the same lines as those of the
chaperon. Mr. Dalken, engrossed with Mr. Alexander, had left the
girls to choose between Jack’s society or exchange personal
confidences; they chose the latter as being the lesser of two
tiresome evils. Hence Jack went forward to smoke, and the two girls
began to plan just how they might bring about a settled state of
affairs between Mrs. Courtney and their dear friend, Mr. Dalken.
“We ought to have clean sailing in the next few months, Nolla,” said
Polly. “No other man or woman to interfere in the match, you know.”
“But Dalky will be so taken up with schemes, and going off to
investigate holes in the ground, that Mrs. Courtney will feel
disgusted.”
“‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder,’” quoth Polly, laughing.
“Just because he won’t always be at beck and call, and because he
compares so favorably with other men, it will be an incentive to her
love—if she feels any.”
“If! There’s that awful ‘if’ in the way!” sighed Eleanor.
“Well, anyway, Nolla, we ought to be able to find out one of two
things on this western trip—whether she does love him, or whether
she doesn’t! I’m not so sure but that daily companionship on board a
private yacht is coma to spontaneous love. You can always tell, from
day to day, just what is about to happen, and who will be in the
party. Now, out here, where great things occur frequently, these two
may discover how dear each is to the other. I’ve known hurricanes,
land-slides, and little things like that, to be instrumental in
opening the eyes of lovers.” Polly spoke as though the “trifles”
just mentioned were casual incidents in a westerner’s life.
Eleanor laughed. “I’m from the Windy City, Poll, but I’m sure we
wouldn’t consider a hurricane or an Omaha cyclone ‘little things’ to
help on a love-affair. Better let nature take its course.”
So plotted two pairs of match-makers: the two girls on the one side,
and Mrs. Courtney and Tom (who felt intuitively that he had a
champion in her) on the other side. Which pair would win the first
place, in successfully bringing about an understanding, in regard to
the others remained to be seen—there also remained the long winter
in balmy Arizona, during which the two affairs might thrive
splendidly. Who could tell?
CHAPTER III
DODO JOINS THE RANKS
Back in Denver once more, Mr. Alexander found a telegram awaiting
him. In it he read that his wife and daughter would leave Colorado
Springs and planned to arrive in the city that same evening, as Mrs.
Alexander had unexpectedly decided to join the travelers to Arizona.
“Now, what d’ye think of that?” exclaimed little Mr. Alexander,
snapping the telegram with impatient fingers. “It’s all right for
Dodo to come, but my wife isn’t used to roughin’ it—least-ways, she
don’t care for it, since we got so much money to spend.”
“Oh, I shall enjoy having another woman help me to keep all the
girls in order,” remarked Mrs. Courtney, pleasantly.
“Don’t fool yourself, Madam—my wife isn’t goin’ to be much help in
lookin’ after others. She demands all the lookin’ after for herself.
I gen’ally see to it that she has a lady’s maid to wait on her—that
lets me out of buttonin’ her boots, and runnin’ here and there like
a beast of burden, to take or carry her shawl, or parasol, or
smellin’ salts. Since she’s takin’ to golf and tennis, it’s her
golf-bag or the tennis racquet I’m expected to carry. I’m sorry to
have to explain so much of my family troubles to you, Madam, but you
must know that I hate to play caddie, though my wife says I resemble
one.” The humility and meekness of the little man made Mrs. Courtney
feel as though she must stand by him in some way—just as Polly’s
friends had felt, as soon as they had grown to understand him on
that European tour.
“If you really wish to secure a competent lady’s maid for your wife,
maybe I might help you in seeking for one in the city to-day,”
ventured Mrs. Courtney, though she realized what a social error she
was committing in offering to engage a maid for another woman.
“Oh, say! If you’d do that for me, Madam, I’ll never forget it. I
want to give my time to Mr. Dalken and the men we hope to meet here
in Denver and, later on, in Prescott. If Mrs. Alexander demands my
attention, how can I serve two masters?” appealed the little man.
“Just tell me the kind of maid I ought to hire, and I’ll move heaven
and earth to find one for you,” promised Mrs. Courtney; at the same
time she wondered what had come over her to make her step into
another woman’s place in this way, and thus force that woman to give
the husband all the spare time he craved to attend to business
affairs. But Mrs. Courtney had no idea that she was acting because
of her deep interest in the South American land plans, in which Mr.
Dalken had not only committed himself as well as his keen business
brain, but also had signed for great blocks of stock that would
bankrupt him should the scheme fail.
“It _must not_ fail!” said Mrs. Courtney, vehemently, to herself.
Thus it came to pass that Polly and Eleanor were invited to
accompany their chaperon to one of the best employment offices in
Denver that same afternoon of their arrival at the hotel. And to
their amusement, they heard and saw Mrs. Courtney interrogate
several maids, believing as she did, that maids out west must be
much like maids in New York. She was soon informed to the contrary
however.
To her questions of “Can you dress hair stylishly?” “Do you wash and
mend laces neatly?” “Are you experienced in manicuring?” “and in
preparing the bath?” and other personal attentions, she heard to her
surprise: “I kin darn socks, lady”; or “I have sewed clothes sence I
was knee-high to a prairie-dog”; or, perhaps, the applicant would
explain, “I ain’t no common general worker, lady, but I kin do plain
cookin’, er lend a hand at the wash-tub, when it’s called for. I
even will agree to het the water fer the baths, ef so come yuh-all
need it that way.”
Hence the polished society woman from the East had to confess
herself vanquished in her effort to help Mr. Alexander provide a
lady’s maid for his wife. On the way back to the hotel Polly made a
suggestion which Eleanor thought would prove very exciting, if not
practical, for Mrs. Alexander’s future peace and personal comfort.
“Why waste time in finding a maid for Dodo’s mother when we can get
a first-class Indian servant, who will cook, pack, wash, and do
everything else for the men, when they have to camp in the
mountains; then he can work for Mrs. Alexander, when the men are
with us and have no need of the Guide.”
“But, Polly, Mrs. Alexander will not need an Indian to cook or wash
for her—she wants a maid to look after her comfort in the hotels
along the beaten track,” argued Eleanor.
“If she annexes herself and her wardrobe trunks to our select party,
she’ll have to put up with discomforts in Arizona, even as we are
willing to do,” declared Polly, impatiently.
“Well, I’ve done all I could to smooth away the obstacles from
little Mr. Alexander’s pathway—now it is up to his wife to find her
own maid,” complained Mrs. Courtney.
That evening Eleanor amused the men by describing the visit at the
employment office and the interviews with sundry maids. Mr.
Alexander felt deeply obliged to Mrs. Courtney, but she begged him
to forget it, since she had not succeeded as she had promised him.
About eight o’clock that same evening, a commotion outside the hotel
entrance announced the arrival of Mrs. Alexander and her daughter.
This time, the commotion was caused by the taxi running head on into
a costly limousine which was waiting for its owner. Not only the
scene between the two chauffeurs, but also the hysterical screams
from the lady inside the cab, drew a crowd that refused to be
dispersed until an officer came running up to arrest the
culprits—should he find any.
Jack and Tom had been the first of the loungers in the hotel-lobby
to hurry to the street and watch the altercation between the two
drivers; but the moment they saw Dodo gazing anxiously from the taxi
window, they sprang across the sidewalk and quickly opened the door.
“Thank goodness, Jack, you’re here to get mother out of this!” cried
Dodo, in relief. Then she managed to slip her arm underneath her
mother’s, and urged her to get up and out of the cab.
Mrs. Alexander spied handsome Jack, and quickly decided she must
lean upon the strong right arm of a young man, instead of accepting
her daughter’s equally strong arm. With a rolling of her eyes
between pencilled eyelashes, and a plaintive gasp meant to enlist
Jack’s sympathy, Mrs. Alexander permitted herself to be coaxed from
the cab, and half-carried into the hotel. How she loved all this
confusion, which she considered better than nothing, in the absence
of other ways of announcing her arrival!
“Well, so here you are, my dear!” exclaimed little Mr. Alexander,
coming from the smoking-room, in time to see his wife sink upon a
huge lounge in the large reception hall.
Had it not been that Mr. Dalken, Tom, and the ladies now hastened to
greet the new arrivals, Mrs. Alexander might have amused herself by
scolding her spouse for his neglect in meeting her train at the
station—though she had failed to mention in the telegram the time
of its arrival in Denver. Being the center of interest, because of
the fuss she made over the collision in front of the hotel, Mrs.
Alexander forgot to take her husband to account for his oversight of
duty.
Mr. Dalken had planned to leave Denver the following morning—in
fact, he would not have stopped over-night at the hotel, had it not
been for the wire received by Mr. Alexander, in which Mrs. Alexander
said she would join the party in Denver that evening.
Now, to end the lady’s little tableau, Mr. Dalken looked at his
watch. “We must retire, friends, if we wish to get the train to
Albuquerque to-morrow morning.”
“Oh!” cried Mrs. Alexander, “I cannot think of it! I have a great
deal of shopping to attend to and, besides, I promised faithfully
that Dodo and I would wait here for a certain dear friend to join
us. He leaves the Springs in the morning, and I am sure he will be
with us by noon.”
“Who is he?” demanded her little lord and master. “Not a fool who’s
after Dodo’s money, I hope.”
“Ebeneezer! How can you speak so shamelessly of your child’s
admirers?” complained Mrs. Alexander.
“Don’t worry, Daddy,” added Dodo, frankly as ever. “He makes a fine
fetch-and-carry addition to Ma’s cortège, and I don’t mind him a
bit—he manages to dust his wisp of a moustache upon my finger-tips
now and then, and that seems to pay him for his doglike devotion to
Ma.”
“But why wait for him to come to Denver?” demanded her father.
“Why—because Ma invited him to join your party on its trip to
Arizona. She thinks the invigorating climate may cause certain
dormant brain cells in sweet little Algy’s cerebrum to open. If that
should develop, think how thankful we would be!” Dodo laughed
heartlessly.
“Poor Dodo!” whispered Eleanor to Polly. “What a life she must have
had with her mother, at such a resort as the Hot Springs.”
“Darling child!” cried Mrs. Alexander, reprovingly, to Dodo. “Some
day you will appreciate such a devoted love as adoring Algernon has
for you. At present you are too young to understand it.”
“I am as old as Polly and Eleanor, Ma, in spite of your denials of
my true age. I think it is too silly for anything—the way you tell
people how grown up I am for my tender age! How much older I _look_
than I really _am_! That I ought to be in school, with my hair in
pigtails! Now, I’m going to have it out, since Daddy is here to
stand by me. The next time you start in to sigh about my
precociousness for my age, I’m going to tell right out how old _you_
are. I’m going to inform people that you married very late in life,
and that I am a child of your old age.”
Ebeneezer Alexander smiled approvingly at his daughter’s threat, and
the others in the group had difficulty in controlling their facial
muscles—not that the elders approved of such remarks to a parent,
but Mrs. Alexander’s was an exceptional case, and Dodo happened to
be a very frank, even blunt, character, much like her father’s. Mrs.
Courtney heard and saw the attitude between mother and daughter, and
she was intelligent enough to understand the situation without any
other explanations. She felt that possibly she might be of great
service to both.
But Mrs. Alexander now commanded all attention. Dodo’s speech could
not be denied by her, so she took refuge in her usual
way—hysterics. All present, but Dodo and her father, rushed around
in search for smelling-salts and other remedies, but the two who
should have been most concerned were least concerned. They
understood that the third member of the family would come out of her
attack instantly, once she realized no one paid any attention to
her. Now, however, she continued the pretension as long as there
seemed hope of annoying others.
“I sure am sorry to interrupt you-all from waitin’ on my missus,
folks,” finally said Mr. Alexander, “but I got to get to bed, ‘cause
we’re goin’ to make an early start.”
This made his wife forget her recent indisposition. She sat up.
“Ebeneezer! I told you that I could not get ready to start away from
here so early as you plan. I have to do necessary shopping for
myself and Dodo,” exclaimed she.
“I will pass up the shopping, Ma, because I really prefer going on
with the rest of the party,” said Dodo, quickly.
“Children must be seen not——” Mrs. Alexander began, but she
suddenly remembered her daughter’s threat to expose her true age,
and she sighed aloud.
“If you say you must shop fer things, you can stay over and come
along on another train. Our’s won’t be the last one out of Denver,
you know,” ventured Mr. Alexander, hopefully.
“I am sorry that your shopping will detain you here, and not permit
you to go on with us in the morning,” added Mr. Dalken, hoping to
end the argument, and to show the lady that he was obdurate over her
selfishness.
“You men might go on, and we ladies follow in the afternoon,”
suggested Mrs. Alexander, appealing to Mrs. Courtney.
“No,” instantly retorted her spouse. “We got all the mileage on one
ticket, and the crowd can’t break up that way. You make up your mind
to stay and shop, and at the same time hire a maid for yourself to
go down to the desert of Arizona, and we’ll go on and wait for you
at Albuquerque.”
The evident desire of her liege lord to be rid of her society, even
for a day, caused the contrary woman to change her plans. “I will
sacrifice myself and all my appointments in Denver for you, dear
Ebeneezer. What time must I be ready in the morning?”
“Huh! All this time and talk wasted—might have said this in the
start!” snorted Mr. Alexander, marching away without replying to his
wife’s honeyed question.
Now the other members in the party believed Mrs. Alexander was
persuaded to go with them before noon the following day. But those
who had crossed wills with her in England and, later, on the
Continent, might have known her better. The next day proved that
Mrs. Alexander had won her point; she acted _too_ guileless about it
to deceive any one.
It had been decided to take the eleven-forty train from Denver, but
this decision came to naught much to the aggravation of the men.
Polly and Eleanor, knowing as they did Mrs. Alexander’s stock of
tricks, had to laugh at this newest one.
Everything was ready, and cabs were called to take the tourists to
the station. Bags, girls and all were settled in the taxis, and the
men were impatiently waiting for Mrs. Alexander to appear. Finally,
at the very last moment in which they might reach the train by
speeding the cars, she came out to the curb. Just as she was going
to step inside her cab, she cried in alarm and sank down upon the
curb.
Naturally her male companions sprang over to help her up, but she
could not stand. She hung limply between Mr. Dalken and her husband.
Meanwhile she groaned and seemed in genuine distress.
“Good gracious, Maggie, what ails you now?” wailed little Mr.
Alexander, wishing to thrust her into the cab, in order to permit
them to drive on.
“Take me back to the hotel! I cannot go——” she seemed to grow
faint and her head drooped forward.
“She’s ill, Mr. Alexander,” whispered Mr. Dalken, anxiously.
“Well, we’ll lift her in the cab, and the air’ll bring her to, as
soon as the driver starts,” suggested her husband.
The chauffeur now ventured a disconcerting announcement. “If you-all
planned to catch the noon express, you’re goin’ to be disappointed.
Can’t possibly make it now, not if you had wings to fly there.”
“Why, man, we’ve _got_ to catch it! Made dates with business men for
to-morrow,” said Jack impatiently, looking at his watch.
“Too bad, but you-all can understand that I’m not talking for my own
good, seein’ that I’m losin’ all these fares to the station,” said
the driver.
“He’s kerrect, Jack!” cried Mr. Alexander, in distress. “No use
scootin’ to catch that train. Gotta wait fer the five o’clock now.”
But his expression boded no future peace to his wife, who had been
the cause of the delay.
Mrs. Alexander was too wise an actress to revive immediately after
she had won her game. She allowed them to carry her into the ladies’
parlor, and there she secured the interest of the maid by slipping
her a liberal tip to attend upon her.
Mrs. Courtney remained with the sighing lady, but the girls would
not join them, lest Dodo express her candid opinion of this unusual
incident. In fact, it was all Polly could do to restrain Dodo from
telling her mother what she believed to be the truth; and the men
were equally engaged in keeping Mr. Alexander from announcing to his
wife his intentions to divorce her. Mr. Dalken laughed and explained
that a husband had to prove more serious misdemeanors on the part of
a wife than clever acting.
Mrs. Alexander revived quickly, once she had gained her point, and
by the time Mr. Algernon Alveston was announced, she had regained
her usual strength of mind, as well as strength of ankles—the
weakness which had caused her graceful subsidence upon the curb
seemed to have vanished like magic.
Mr. Dalken’s party had given up their rooms at the hotel, at the
time they believed themselves to be leaving for the train; then it
became necessary for the Alexanders to engage another suite to allow
the indisposed lady to recover without being annoyed by strangers.
Every member of the Dalken party, except Mrs. Alexander, was waiting
in the luxurious lounge for further news of the invalid, when a
thin, sallow-faced, silver-haired youth pranced into the hotel and
glanced eagerly around. He must have been weak-sighted, because Dodo
was a prominent figure in the waiting party of friends, yet the
newcomer failed to see her.
“Oh, goodness!” whispered Dodo. “There’s Algy,—spats, cane and
monocle!”
The others had seen the ridiculous-looking young man, and now they
gasped at Dodo’s information. Was _that_ the cause of their hold-up?
Mr. Alexander frowned ominously, as he muttered aloud: “Where’d he
come from, Dodo? And how long’ve you known him?”
“He doesn’t seem to know himself where he hailed from,” tittered
Dodo, getting back of her friends to avoid being spied by the little
green eye back of the monocle. “As for time in which to know him,
Daddy, a minute or two is sufficient. There’s nothing more to
discover, once you’ve had a look at his clothes and general get-up.”
Polly and Eleanor giggled, because Dodo’s description seemed to fit
the object perfectly. Then they suddenly turned their attention to
each other and seemed deeply interested in what the gentlemen were
saying,—because a bell-hop was seen to take a card from the clerk
and leave the desk. In a few seconds thereafter, he began to page
“Mrs. Alexander! Mrs. Alexander!”
“S—sh! don’t one of you dare to reply to that!” warned Mr.
Alexander, making sure that Dodo was safely screened from view by
the girls and Mrs. Courtney. “If that swell collar-ad over there’s
called to see Mrs. Alexander, let her answer the call. It ain’t fer
you ner me, Dodo!”
Having paraded all around the public rooms on the first floor, the
bell-hop was returning to the desk with the card in his hand, when
the vigilant clerk spied the Alexanders in Mr. Dalken’s party.
“There, you’ll find out where the lady is by asking of her husband
or daughter—over by the palms,” said the clerk. Then Mr. Alexander
saw the boy hurry across the lobby in his direction.
The little man drew himself up, to look as majestic as possible,
before he turned to stare at the bell-boy. “You say this caller is
for my wife? Well, I’ll go and entertain him, until she comes in.”
Without another word, Mr. Alexander started off, but Dodo felt it
would surely create a divorce in her family if her father was
permitted to interview Mr. Alveston alone—perhaps he would tell him
he was holding up a private touring party, and then ask him to get
out of the way. It was well known that Mr. Alexander stood on little
ceremony and lost no time in speaking bluntly to people who caused
him any annoyance. Therefore it happened that Dodo got her two
girl-friends to hurry with her at the heels of her father. All four
approached the caller about the same time.
Algernon Alveston sprang up from the great leather chair, in which
he had been quite lost, and gave his coat and vest a nervous yank to
straighten out any possible creases. Then he flicked off an
imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve, and “hem-hem-ed” several
times, before he was ready to welcome Dodo and her friends.
Dodo stood still, expecting Algy to join her, then she would prevent
her father from taking a high hand in the addition of the young man
to the touring party.
Algernon’s spirit was willing to fulfill Dodo’s wishes, but his head
was weak. As he nervously started to greet Dodo and be introduced to
her father and the two handsome girls beside her, his extremely
pointed-toed shoe caught in the long fringe of the Turkish rug.
Presto! away went the dapper youth, as though he was performing a
fancy dance for the benefit of his audience. In fact, his body
seemed to be suspended above the floor in a horizontal position
instead of being upright.
Even so, he might have eventually balanced himself, in order to gain
a vertical position, as man was meant to be, had it not been for his
thick, heavy walking-stick. As he went two-stepping over the carpet,
the cane struck the table legs and came back like a boomerang. In
another moment it had managed to get between his weak knees, and in
another moment Algy was measuring his full length upon the floor
directly in front of little Mr. Alexander.
It was all done in so short a time that the girls had not had
leisure to catch their breaths, and Mr. Alexander was not provided
with any other exclamation than his favorite one, which always came
from him like a blast from a small furnace.
“By the Great Horned Spoon! What’cha floppin’ in front o’ me for? I
ain’t no royal personage waitin’ to have my subjecks kiss my shoe,
like-as-how you Britons do, when you got a favor to ask. Now, git
up, and behave like a _real_ man.” With this advice, Mr. Alexander
assisted Algy by kicking the troublesome cane out of the way.
“Ah,—I beg pawdin; aw, I neveh thought of saluting you, Mr.
Alexandeh. It was owing to a trifling catch of my boot on the rug,”
explained Algy, rising awkwardly to his feet, and groping about for
his beloved monocle. So nervous was he, that he adjusted the
eye-glass and never realized that the fall had loosened and lost the
glass. He wore the fine gold-wire rim as though the glass was there.
“Yeh, I noticed the triflin’ trip,” smiled Mr. Alexander.
Algy interpreted the smile as one of paternal sympathy, and never
dreamed that Dodo’s father was actually laughing at the vapid
admirer who seemed so feather-brained.
“Weally, Miss Dodo, I must apologize for such accidental behavior on
my part. I feah I frightened you a bit, but I assure you it was
owing to that trifling trip,” repeated Algy, finding it difficult to
think of any new sentence.
“As Daddy said, ‘never mind.’ Remember you are out west now, and not
in your oft-quoted British Isles. You must know how awfully
democratic father is—just the opposite of you, Mr. Alveston.”
“Oh, I see! Perhaps youh fatheh will convert my views on democracy.
At pwesent, howeveh, I am a thoroughbred autocrat with tendencies
toward my English ancestry.” Algy was not very clear about his
tendencies, thought Polly, as she stood listening very seriously.
“Naturally you would have ancestral tendencies—every one has,”
laughed Dodo; then Algy was ready to be presented.
“In these modern days, the young folks gen’ally take after
themselves,” grunted Mr. Alexander. “All the same, ef this young
feller is like his ancestors was, it’s a lucky thing they didn’t
have rugs with fringes on ’em in the old times.”
Mr. Alexander’s remark was quite lost, however, because Algy was
being introduced, and he never grasped more than one thing at a
time. At the moment, he was grasping Polly’s fingers in order to
waft a dainty kiss upon their tips in salute. Then came Eleanor’s
turn. And at last, Mr. Alexander was introduced. The little man
scowled at the excessively polite young man, and seemed to be ready
to defend himself in case his fingers were lifted to those thin,
white lips.
Just as the formal introductions ended, Jack strolled over and
called out cheerily: “Oh, here you are! Found, the friend Mrs.
Alexander thought to be lost, strayed or stolen?”
Tom had accompanied Jack, but he remained in the open doorway,
annoyed at what he saw. He had appeared just in time to see Algy
kiss Polly’s fingers, and he felt like cuffing the little dandy’s
ears for such impertinence.
Now, however, he crossed the room and spoke impatiently to Polly.
“Why do you permit that Jackanapes to perform as he did?”
“Why—what do you mean, Tom?” asked Polly, surprised.
“Well, you know very well! A man who loves a girl hates to see her
made a fool of in a public place,” retorted Tom, forgetting Anne
Brewster’s advices and allowing his jealousy to show itself again.
“Don’t you dare speak like that to me! I am not made a fool of by
you or any other man, and I refuse to allow any one to correct
me—especially in a public place, and before all my friends.” With
this reply, Polly turned and marched away.
Too late Tom remembered what Anne had tried to teach him, but it
seemed too late now to make amends. He watched Polly go, and then,
instead of running up to apologize and explain himself, he decided
that this was no place for him. He then went to the porter and asked
him to transfer his baggage to a cab which he would get to take him
to the Denver railway station. Leaving a note of explanation for Mr.
Dalken, he slipped away, and that afternoon was on his way back to
Oak Creek. Long before he reached his destination, however, he had
time to regret his hasty act. How he had longed for this very
wonderful tour with Polly and her friends, and now because of his
demon jealousy all was spoiled again!
CHAPTER IV
JACK AND ALGY ENTERTAIN
That evening the tourists were seated in their Pullman, interested
in the scenery along the route—no, not all were thus engaged, for
the Alexanders were otherwise concerned. Mr. Alexander had not
recovered his habitual good-nature since his wife’s clever manner of
compelling her friends to wait for her latest fad, Algy.
“Why, in the name of conscience, didn’t you-all get on the train at
the Springs, ’stead of making us this trouble by coming to Denver
for nuthing?” growled the little man.
“Ma said she had shopping to do,” explained Dodo.
“She could’ve shopped at Albuquerque, all right,” continued Mr.
Alexander. “If we’d picked you-all up at the Springs, it would have
saved Mr. Dalken a hull day’s time. We got a big date on at the
hotel in Albuquerque, and now all this tom-foolery might spoil
things.”
“You are so heartless, Ebeneezer!” whimpered Mrs. Alexander, using a
costly, lace-edged handkerchief to soothe her troubled spirit.
“Yeh! I’ve heard so before,” grunted her angry husband.
“Poor Algernon understands a woman’s sensitive nerves far better
than you ever can, Ebeneezer,” continued Mrs. Alexander.
That was a little too much for the annoyed man’s temper. He sat
glaring across the car at the inoffensive, blonde-pated,
insignificant young man, and snorted so that Polly and Eleanor
plainly heard what he said. “If your beau-ideal understands
_any_thing, he kin understand you, all right, Maggie—’cause there
ain’t so much to understand as you’d like to think!”
This was a trifle too deep for Mrs. Alexander’s intelligence, but
she felt the sarcasm in his tone, and she resented the use he made
of her detested first name.
“Mr. Alexander! how often must I inform you that my name is not
‘Maggie’—I am to be called ‘Marguerite,’ or nothing! I ought to
know my own name, I reckon!”
“It usta be Maggie long enough, afore I struck that pay dirt! If I
hadn’t piled up money in spite of myself sence then, you’d still be
plain Maggie Alexander, doin’ your own washin’ and cookin’, and not
a thought of chasin’ young fellers for Dodo to marry.”
“Don’t you dare remind me of those horrible days!” cried Mrs.
Alexander, her face red as a peony, as she glanced covertly around
to assure herself that no one else had overheard her husband’s
revelations.
“I wouldn’t hurt your feelin’s, if you’d behave and not drag these
ever-lastin’ dudes around the country, tryin’ to tag ’em to Dodo’s
apron-strings. That gal’s as much mine as she is yourn, and I got a
word to say about the man she wants to marry! Remember that,
Maggie!”
Once more his wife looked daggers at him, and then she reiterated:
“I’ll have you call me Marguerite, or nothing at all, Mr.
Alexander!”
“So be it! I’ll remember to call you ‘Nothin’-at-all’ after this,
but I swear I shan’t call you no high-falutin names like Marguerite!
It’d gag me—tryin’ to fit such a fancy name onto my plain, old
wife!” As he dropped this last bomb, Mr. Alexander got up and went
forward to the smoking compartment.
In another moment Algy, seeing his opportunity, came over to take
the vacated seat. But Dodo would not remain beside him, so she got
up, excused herself, and joined Polly and Eleanor. Jack saw his
chance for amusement, and he crossed the aisle to take Dodo’s vacant
place.
The train had reached Colorado Springs, and the tourists had been
interested in looking at Pike’s Peak and Manitou in the moonlight,
so that only part of the Alexanders’ altercation had been heard by
them.
Mrs. Alexander turned to Algy and simpered affectedly: “Oh, what
sweet memories come back at sight of this delightful resort!”
Algernon, his slow brain seldom grasping any idea until others had
forgotten what had been said, merely smiled vacantly at the speaker
and nodded his head. Jack gazed in impatient astonishment at Mrs.
Alexander, then he turned and stared at the simpleton.
“The wonderful motor trips, Mr. Baxter, and the stunning
women—genuine fashion leaders from New York and abroad, they
are—that are at the Springs,” sighed the lady, her mind dwelling
upon the “fashion-plates” she had seen in the resort.
“Yes, I’ve heard that Colorado Springs is a great center to attract
the salaried women of New York, Chicago, and European cities, who
are paid to display toilettes which are expected to win favor with
the ladies—in this way the fashions are made for you, just as they
are done in France and England. I suppose you know that?” said Jack,
innocently.
“I believe so,” murmured Mrs. Alexander, uncertain of what was the
best reply to make.
“Yes, yes!” now came happily from Algy, as his expression denoted he
had grasped some elusive joy. “Yes, dear lady, I can see you now,
wearing one of those becoming costumes, about to motor with your
wonderful child, to one of the famous points of interest.”
Jack had almost forgotten the exclamation Mrs. Alexander had made a
short time before, and she had _quite_ forgotten it, since she only
spoke to show Jack that she was a member of the gay society at the
Springs. Now, however, she frowned disapprovingly at Algy, thinking
he was speaking of the parade of fashions for a fee. How could he
think that!
Polly and Eleanor were sitting with Dodo just across the aisle, and
the conversation of the three was plainly heard. They found much to
do to keep from laughing merrily at Jack’s subtle teasing.
Then Dodo whispered to her chums: “Algy will be getting in deep
water if he fences with Jack. He’d better watch his step, or he’ll
go in over his head.”
“You say it is too empty to be damaged,” laughed Eleanor.
“Yes, but it may fill with water, you see,” retorted Dodo.
“It may float like a cork, Dodo,” now giggled Polly.
“No danger! It is too much of a vacuum,” added Dodo.
“S-sh!” warned Eleanor, hearing Jack continue the conversation with
the two other entertainers.
“I suppose you played golf a great deal at the Springs, Mrs.
Alexander?” asked he, politely.
“Oh, yes. I simply adore that game,” exclaimed the lady. “I have
been told that my teeing is a sight to behold! Several elderly
gentlemen, stopping at the same hotel, complimented me on my form in
using the mashie. That is a very difficult stick to use properly,
you know. Then, too, I was told that the graceful manner in which I
handled the niblick every time I made a great drive, was a treat for
old players of the famous game.”
“I can well imagine how old players of the game were amazed at your
form,” returned Jack, not a smile crimping the corners of his mouth.
The three girls, however, laughed into their handkerchiefs, and Dodo
explained her amusement at her mother’s words, by saying: “Girls, Ma
never took a stick from the bag that Algy toted all over the course.
The two of them just walked slowly around, because it was the thing
to do, and many a good player swore at them for getting right in the
way. One day, during a four-some between some famous golfers, Ma and
Algy managed to get right in the way. One of the men shouted
impatiently: ‘Fore!’ And Ma turned to smile sweetly at them, then
she replied: ‘I know it, thank you. I’ve heard you four were
wonderful players. Don’t mind me watching you.’ Do you wonder I have
to laugh as I remember?”
During Dodo’s whispered explanation, Jack had said something which
the girls had missed. Mrs. Alexander was replying to him.
“Oh, yes, indeed! Just ask Algy to prove it. He always carried my
bag, you see, so he was present whenever I finished the game in a
few hundred strokes.” She beamed upon Algy for him to convince the
young New Yorker of her skill in beating the record. And the youth,
thus called upon before he could muster his wits on the proper
answer to give, spoke recklessly, but he never realized it.
“Mrs. Alexander walked so much every morning, over those links, that
she really weighed nine pounds less when she left the Springs. I
told her it was a pity she could not carry her own golf-bag, because
that would have taken off five extra pounds, I’m sure. I lost that
much, and I really felt that I had no right to lose an ounce. It
almost ruined my figure, losing those five pounds, you know.”
Mrs. Alexander sent Algy a second dagger-like look, but he sat
smiling upon Jack, who was the one addressed. Jack was not the one
to disappoint any one, and in this case he fairly reveled in
entertaining those about him.
“I believe it is a real strain—to have to caddy to another. Not so
bad, when one carries one’s own bag, but the fun is missed when the
caddy cannot use the sticks he has to carry.”
“You’re right there!” agreed Algy. “There were plenty of paid
caddies, understand, but dear Mrs. Alex. is so particular, and I had
nothing else to do, you know, so we hit it off fine in golf.”
The train had been speeding on its way to Pueblo, and now the
tourists saw the outlying sections of that manufacturing city come
into view. La Junta would be the next stopping place on the
railroad, but the tourists in the Dalken party were not so concerned
about getting off the train to visit places of interest as they were
in arriving at Albuquerque in time to meet the men with whom the
important appointment had been made. Therefore they were going
through on the sleeper.
Having left Pueblo behind, the younger members in the party took up
their conversation where it had been suspended while waiting in the
station. Jack launched an entirely new form of the same game.
“Your name would suggest British nationality, Mr. Alveston.”
“Aw, yes!” agreed Algy, fixing his monocle in the latest approved
English manner. “My full name, you know, is Algernon Alfred
Alveston. Quite unusual, don’t you think?—The initials, I mean, A.
A. A.”
“I should say so!” declared Jack seriously, albeit the three girls
saw a fine wrinkle at the corners of his eyes. “It reminds one of a
grade of flour. In fact, I am sure I’ve seen the advertisements of
the ‘Aunt Jane Pancake Flour’ with the ‘A. A. A.’ to tell the
quality. I suppose that is what you refer to—the quality in your
makeup, eh?”
Algy was not certain that this could be considered a compliment; nor
was he certain whether it was a covert insult. Moreover, he had no
time for either, just then, because he was engrossed with the
euphony of his name. He smiled beatifically to himself as he
repeated it.
“Another great publicity stunt your name suggests,” continued Jack,
finding he had not “gotten Algy’s goat,” with his last remark, “is
the rubber trade. Now, I do not mean you to infer that I mean the
slang word ‘rubber,’ but I am thinking of A. A. A. rubber, such as
we use in washers on hose and kitchen sinks. They are handy for
other purposes, too. Some folks wear A. A. A. rubber under foot—to
keep the soles of their feet dry, you know. I suppose you find it
dreadfully embarrassing when your initials remind people of their
feet, and of drains, or kitchen sinks.”
Algy had to ponder this before he would commit himself, but Mrs.
Alexander began to think that perhaps this handsome young man might
be laughing quietly at her friend and great admirer. Before she
could grasp the situation, however, Jack had diverted her attention
to the town the train was now approaching—La Junta.
“I always feel that I must take in a great mouthful of pronunciation
before I speak that word. Then it comes with an explosive sort of
sound—‘La Hoontah!’” laughed he, purposely keeping her from
investigating his recent bout with Algy.
“I have heard that it would be far better if the men who attend to
the spelling of names and places in America would use simple
spelling the way the town is called,” said Mrs. Alexander. “I’ve
often thought of writing to the board of men who do this work, to
ask them to think of my suggestion. It would be a great deed, to
spell names exactly as they are spoken.”
“Indeed it would,” agreed Jack. “For instance, such a fine idea
would save so much confusion that you would be entitled to a
memorial in the Hall of Fame, Mrs. Alexander.”
“Oh, this is the least of many great ideas I have, but so few
friends ever appreciate them. I really feel that I am repressed in
my beautiful thoughts for the world’s welfare, because my husband
and Dodo never can understand me, you see,” explained the poor lady.
“Well, now that I understand you, esteemed friend, you will not have
to waste your ideals on Algy. You may share them with me,” said
Jack, with one of his adoring glances.
Mrs. Alexander felt sweetly thrilled at such appreciation, and
suddenly Algy woke up to a remark made ten minutes before.
“Oh, I say! You didn’t mean that my initials might be in the class
of flour or rubber, did you?” He was quite aggrieved.
“Not at all!” retorted Jack, giving a swift look at the girls, to
make sure they were listening. “I was only wondering how it was that
you got such a distinguished set of initials to stand for yourself,
since the world considers an ‘A. A. A.’ to be superlative quality.
In business references, you know, the ‘A. A. A.’ signifies that the
one mentioned is absolutely trustworthy, and often it means he is
financially sound and safe to be trusted. But your initials do not
mean that for you, do they? I suppose business references are a
foreign tongue to you.”
“Aw, yes!” said Algy. “It would be a bore to have to study business,
don’t you think? I neveh had to work, and so I neveh dabble in trade
terms, you know. Speaking of foreign tongues—what language did you
mean?”
Dodo now whispered to her friends: “As usual, Algy can only remember
the last idea spoken. All the others went over his head, because he
could not keep up with Jack’s speed in thinking. Isn’t he funny?”
“Well, there is no use in trying to explain to you, A. A. A., for I
feel convinced that you would never make use of such speech. You are
in your right place now, I should judge: keep on being caddy to a
patron like Mrs. Alexander, and don’t strain your cerebrum by ever
aspiring to reach any higher altitudes than those which may be had
by climbing up the peaks in a train, or by an auto. Even then, the
rarefied air may cause you cramps in the vacuous cellular region
inside the skull.”
With this grandiloquent speech, Jack got up and shook himself
exactly as a shaggy dog might do when he climbs up from a shallow
pool of limpid water—a pool with absolutely no depth but which had
seemed pleasant and inviting for a refreshing bath. “Oftentimes it
happens that reflections from Nature’s surrounding banks mislead one
in thinking the water deeper than it really is,” remarked Jack, as
he sat down beside Dodo.
“No, Jack, I do not agree with you,” laughed Dodo. “A. A. A. has
nothing about him to reflect—not even Nature. All he has a claim
upon is his grandfather’s fortune, which he is fast passing on to
those who understand how to handle it better than he can.”
“If he has a fortune, why is he dangling after you?” was Jack’s
wondering comment.
“Good gracious!” laughed Dodo, “any one would think I was an ugly,
disagreeable, old maid, with only my money to attract a beau.”
“Oh! I never meant that!” exclaimed Jack, flushing scarlet. “You
know what I think of you, Doe; I _meant_ that this simpleton could
not appreciate you or your intelligence, but I thought he might envy
you your cash. If he has enough of that, why should he worry?”
“To be candid with you, Jack, I doubt if he knows enough to say
good-by where he is not wanted. Ma tags him along because he
actually does make a good servant—and he has good clothes and pays
his own way. Ma uses him disgracefully, as you will see, soon; but
Algy doesn’t seem to mind, nor does he realize it. As a little pet
dog, he is excellent. And he never barks nor bites, either. That is
in his favor, you will admit,” and Dodo laughed, as she finished
explaining.
“It may turn out to be a fortunate thing that we could not hire a
maid for Dodo’s mother,” said Polly.
“What is that?” asked Dodo, curiously.
Then the girls told how Mrs. Courtney had gone to the employment
office to engage a good lady’s maid for Mrs. Alexander.
Dodo laughed at the interviews and their termination.
“Just as well you were unsuccessful in the quest,” said she. “If
mother has a maid, she becomes so dependent upon her for the least
act, that she soon grows too heavy to feel comfortable. Then she
feels cross, because she cannot dance and act like a girl, and,
worst of all, her new costumes never will meet. Life then becomes
impossible, until she has dieted down again. Algy is better than a
maid, because he induces her to walk and go out with him, and that
is good for her health.”
At this moment the men returned from the smoking compartment, and
Mr. Dalken said: “It’s time for bed, children.”
“Oh, dear me, is it?” sighed Mrs. Alexander, suddenly seeming to
feel indisposed to move.
“You don’t have to go to bed, Maggie, if you like to sit up and
enjoy that young man’s conversation,” returned Mr. Alexander.
“It’s not that, Ebeneezer—but I really feel as though I were going
to have one of my nervous spells,” explained the lady, sighing
again, more emphatically this time.
“By the Great Horned Spoon! Don’t carry on like that, while we are
travelin’!” cried her husband, glancing anxiously about for some one
to share his troubles.
“I really can’t help it, dearest! When I feel this way I am not able
to recline upon a bed, or to think of sleep.”
“That’s why you’d better sit up all night—and have that boy sit up,
too, to get what you need, or to read to you and keep you from
worryin’ over yourself,” advised Mr. Alexander.
“Algy, dear boy, will you pull the bag of medicines from under the
seat. Get me the aromatic ammonia, like a good child,” weakly
requested Mrs. Alexander.
The others of the group, all but Dodo and her father, appeared
concerned over Mrs. Alexander’s sudden indisposition, and Mr. Dalken
offered to go through the Pullmans to find a physician.
“Oh, if you would, dear Mr. Dalken,” sighed the apparently ill lady.
“No, no! don’t you take a step, Mr. Dalken,” remonstrated Mr.
Alexander. “Maggie’s fits always pass off quicker when no one pays
any attention to her. I know, from years’ experience, what ails her
now. We ain’t been amusin’ her since we started this trip, and now
that we’re here to hear and see, we’re in for my wife’s kind of
scoldin’. Ask Dodo about it, if you don’t believe me.”
But Dodo turned away and walked to the other end of the car. She was
wise for so young a girl, but then she had had ample time in which
to watch and profit by her mother’s silly pretences.
Mrs. Alexander flashed a furious glance at her husband, but she
still had hopes of making herself the center of concern, so she
slumped down in the seat and closed her eyes, at the same time she
threw up both hands and gave a gurgling breath. Poor Algy stood
beside her, trembling violently, and wiping the perspiration from
his noble (?) brow.
“Say! Aw, I say! cawn’t you folks do something to brace her up a
bit? I weally haven’t the stwength to stand by and witness the end
of a lady. Why, I cawn’t bear to see any one kill a fly—it makes me
deathly ill, don’t chaw know!” Having expressed his sentiments, Algy
turned and fled to the smoking compartment.
At this moment Dodo rushed down the length of the Pullman, and
excitedly cried: “A fire! Oh, what shall we do—there’s a fire on
the train.”
All signs of illness vanished from Mrs. Alexander. She sprang up and
called imperatively to Dodo’s amazed father, “Get the small bag,
Ebeneezer—it’s got my jewelry and money in it! Hurry—and then
follow me.”
Mrs. Alexander was out of the seat, and tearing for the door, in
another second. But Dodo caught her arm and said quietly: “Never
mind jumping off, Ma. I had to apply radical treatment to establish
a perfect circulation of your blood and a normal action of your
nerves, you know. There really is a fire aboard this train, but it
happens to be on the engine.”
“Dodo’s way of curing you, Maggie, is quicker’n better than all
medicine, I see. We’ll have to dose you the same way, if you get
more fits while we are on this trip,” added Mr. Alexander, frowning
at his erstwhile dying mate.
“I’ll see to it that this unnatural daughter of mine pays for this
breaking of the Commandment. She doesn’t know a thing about
‘honoring her mother,’ or she wouldn’t make me a joke to the world!”
With this ultimatum, Mrs. Alexander yanked aside the green curtains
hanging before her berth, and disappeared from view. Another yank
closed them back of her, and Mr. Alexander heaved a relieved sigh.
“Now, with my blessing, you can all go to bed, children. You needn’t
worry—there won’t be no more fits to-night, I’m sure.”
“Before we retire, Alexander, I want to inform the ladies that they
need not feel disturbed about leaving the Pullman in the morning,”
said Mr. Dalken. Then he turned to the girls and Mrs. Courtney, and
said: “We have arranged with the two other passengers of this coach
to have this particular car switched off at Santa Fé, to give you
all the rest you want. Jack is to remain with you and escort you
about the famous old city for a day or two,—or longer if you
like,—then you can come on to Albuquerque, where Mr. Alexander and
I will be head over heels in conferences. We are going right on,
after dropping your car at Santa Fé. And we will meet at the hotel
Jack knows about, where we may remain for a week or more.”
CHAPTER V
IMPROMPTU AMUSEMENTS
Mr. Dalken’s plan met with such approval that the girls slept until
late the morning that the Pullman had been dropped at the side-track
in Santa Fé. When they were roused finally by the porter, they found
Jack waiting impatiently for them to dress and follow him to the
hotel. Mrs. Alexander seemed to have recovered entirely from her
annoyance of the previous evening, and Algy apparently had forgotten
there had been any disturbance in the harmony of the touring party.
“Algy, dear,” said Mrs. Alexander, sweetly, as she motioned to her
numerous pieces of baggage, “when you take these from the car, don’t
drop any. I have valuable things in each bag.”
“But, Ma, the Pullman porter will look after the luggage,” was
Dodo’s reminder.
“Not mine! thank you. I wouldn’t allow one of those strangers to
handle one of my bags. In this desert land, I could never replace my
cosmetics and toilet articles. Algy loves to oblige me, so why
disappoint him?” was Mrs. Alexander’s tart reply.
Algy said nothing, but he gathered the bags in both feeble hands as
well as he could. Then Jack, taking pity on his futile efforts to
hold them all, waited for Mrs. Alexander to march off towards the
door, before he tied the seven leather bags together with an end of
rope which the porter had handed him. Thus Algy could swing them
over his back, but it was a heavy load for one so slender and limp.
“Oh, Jack! Why don’t you carry some of them?” asked Eleanor.
“Why should I? I’m paying the Pullman porter to take all the
luggage, and now that Algy is so easy that he does whatever Mrs.
Alex. asks of him, let him obey. I am not that kind.”
“But he looks as though he might break in half,” laughed Polly.
“May be a good turn for him—put some bone and brawn into his
frame,” chuckled Jack, watching Mrs. Alex.’s obedient follower
toddle along the platform at the heels of the owner of the bags.
As the cabs carried the tourists to the leading hotel of Santa Fé,
the girls were interested in looking at the interesting sights of
the old Spanish city. Jack knew no more about the points of interest
than they did, but he pretended to do so, and he drew their
attention to the plaza—not easily mistaken for anything else; and
he told them a certain old church was the Cathedral of San
Francisco, when it really was the Church of San Miguel—but the
girls did not find this error out until later.
That first day was spent in visiting the quaint old city and its
ancient buildings and the new museum and art gallery. Then the
second day was devoted to an auto trip along the scenic road of the
Pecos River, through the forests of the Pecos, as far as the forest
rangers’ headquarters at Panchuela. That evening they stopped at
Bishop’s Lodge for supper, and drove back to Santa Fé in the clear
moonlight.
They had preferred driving in a large seven-passenger car, instead
of using two smaller autos, and the young folks felt merry and
high-spirited as they crowded into their seats upon leaving the
Lodge. Soon after they started along the fine highway to Santa Fé,
Jack began to hum a popular air, and soon the three girls were
singing the words. Algy listened, but he never opened his lips, and
the expression upon his face seemed to say that he disapproved of
jazz-time songs.
At the end of the song Jack turned and spoke to Algy. “What’s the
matter with your vocal chord, A. A. A.? Has it broken, or can’t you
sing anything but soprano?”
Algy pondered this query for a few moments, while the girls had to
smother their risibles in their handkerchiefs. Then the troubled
young man said: “Why, I am just wondering where the vocal chord is?
Has it any connection with the spine? You said something yesterday
about violent exercise being good for my spinal cord, and now you
ask if it is broken.” He seemed not to have heard the question about
having a soprano voice.
“Why, no, A. A. A.—you are wrong on both counts. _Your_ vocal
chord, because it is so high, you know, must be located in your
cranium. Any one can tell that, by your high-toned airs. Some day it
might prove very interesting for you to have a specialist on the
brain seek for the Lost Chord in your head. You would become famous
in a day, were he to discover it in your cerebellum,” explained
Jack.
Poor Algy knew nothing of cerebrums or cerebellums, or of
chords,—Lost or Found,—so how was he to know that Jack was making
a goose of him? That night, after he had sought his down pillows to
sleep, the erratic spirit refused to close his eyes. Then Algy began
to wonder what that tremendously wise chap meant by his high-toned
airs! How the girls would have teased Jack, had they but known that
Algy revered the young man’s intelligence—all because that joker
spoke of matters pertaining to the head.
Early the following morning Jack rapped upon each door of the rooms
occupied by his friends, and informed them that he was ready to
start on that day’s excursion. There was no need for a second call
for breakfast that time—in less than half an hour every one was
gathered about the table. True, Algy looked heavy-eyed, but no one
paid overmuch attention to him.
“We are going to take lunch and eat it in the Ceremonial Cave at
Frigoles Canyon, this noon,” announced Jack. “If we take one of the
autos usually rented for the round trip, we are limited to six
passengers. That would cost us thirty-five dollars for the
sixty-eight miles there and back. If we wanted to remain overnight
at El Rito Ranch, the extra cost on the car would be twenty dollars.
So I got busy and figured out costs, and I am persuaded to hire a
regular seven-passenger automobile, such as we had yesterday, and go
as we like, and return any old time. What do you think of the
suggestion?”
The car used the preceding day was very comfortable; and the idea of
leaving one member out of the party if the regular bus was engaged
had no appeal to any one in Jack’s party; hence it was quickly
decided to engage the large touring car for the round trip—perhaps
for the night and next day. Immediately after deciding this
question, Jack hastened out of the dining-room and arranged for the
auto.
The hotel management packed a generous luncheon for seven guests and
the chauffeur, and soon after breakfast had been finished the young
folks gathered on the verandah for the start.
Jack sat in front beside the driver and learned much about the
wonders of the region. It was due to information thus received that
he halted the car some time after Santa Fé had been left behind, and
told his companions about the ranch called El Rito where a splendid
luncheon was to be had at a dollar a person.
“But we have planned a luncheon in the cave you told about, Jack!”
exclaimed Eleanor, plainly disappointed.
“The driver says we will be so hungry by three o’clock, that an
extra lunch will be found most acceptable. That’s what I thought we
would do with the hamper of good things,” explained Jack.
“In that case, we will have no appetite for dinner to-night, and
later, about nine o’clock every one will feel starved,” objected
Mrs. Courtney.
“The driver says it is a most tiresome trip to make in one day,
because we will want to climb and visit all the queer caves and
ruins, and we’ll be thankful for a rest at the ranch to-night. We
can get excellent rooms at this time of year for three to
three-fifty per. I thought his suggestion an improvement on my plan.
Then we might enjoy the ride back to-morrow, early in the morning,
far more than coming in late at night all tired and hungry after
such a day’s outing.”
“All right, Jack! We’ll do as you say. But tell the driver to be
sure and see that we get good accommodations at the ranch,” agreed
Mrs. Courtney, having been informed that the others were pleased
with the change of programme.
The entire country presented interesting as well as unexpected
scenery, and the girls were too absorbed in gazing around to pay
attention to Mrs. Alexander and Algy. These two members of the group
never saw anything novel or unique in the sights passed. Had they
been suddenly perched upon the top-most pinnacle of the Continental
Divide they would not have felt the exaltation of soul which would
have caused others to groan with the burden of a physical body that
held the spirit down upon earth!
Picturesque Mexican villages with adobe houses and old mission
churches gave Polly and Eleanor ample opportunities for kodak
pictures. The dark-eyed señoritas and their adoring señoras added
the touch of Ancient Spain to the views. In direct opposition to
these old Spanish scenes, was the grandeur of sheer cliffs and
mighty canyons, the road often winding along the very edge of great
boulders which might roll and hurl them all down into dreaded
depths. While skirting these awesome chasms Mrs. Alexander uttered
shrill little screams and clung dependently to Algy’s arm. Poor
fellow! He wished he had some strong right arm upon which he, too,
might lean during those risky places.
After stopping at El Rito Ranch for an excellent dinner, and having
engaged the best rooms to be had for that night, the party went on
its way rejoicing.
The rest of the day was spent in visiting the ruins in Frigole
Canyon, getting pictures of different views of the ancient Kiva in
Ceremonial Cave of the Canyon, and in adventuring to various old
cave dwellings.
It was well that Jack had planned for his party to remain over-night
at El Rito Ranch, because there was scant time before sunset that
evening to see all the wonders of this remarkable place. They wished
to visit White Rock Canyon and the Painted Cave, but the darkness
fell too quickly for further sight-seeing. Therefore it was voted
unanimously to return and see all that was left to see the next
morning.
The evening at the ranch house passed merrily for the young people.
The victrola provided the dance music, and the younger members in
the party were the dancers. But the day had been fatiguing in spite
of the enjoyment of the sights seen, so bed was not sneered at when
Mrs. Courtney suggested sleep.
After a hearty breakfast in the early morning, Jack superintended
the activities of packing another luncheon and placing his friends
for the drive to the Cave and Canyon.
Upon this trip Algy managed to place Dodo between her mother and
himself. He had rebelled at the demonstration of trust and
dependence shown by Mrs. Alexander the previous day, not that he
felt annoyed at the good judgment of his elderly friend, but because
he wished to be absolutely free to save himself in case another
dangerous route had to be taken in reaching the Cave that day. What
could he do for himself if a heavy woman clung tenaciously to his
arm?
But Algy had maneuvered in vain, that time, since the auto road ran
safely over splendid tableland until the Canyon was reached. Here
the driver advised his passengers to get out and walk to the Cave
and other points of interest, in order that they might see all the
various things along the way.
The Painted Cave was left for the last visit. And just before
“doing” that, Jack proposed luncheon on the edge of the great cliffs
along the Rio Grande. The girls hailed the idea, but Algy had
nothing to say. In fact, when the others sat as close to the edge of
the towering cliff as it was possible to reach in safety, he managed
to sit the farthest back in the group. At every shout of sudden or
unexpected laughter from the others in the happy party, had any one
watched the timorous youth he might have been seen to jump nervously
and turn pale.
Then they all proceeded to the Painted Cave; Algy, naturally,
lingering behind the others as though he wished to study each
strange item seen on the way. Finally the others had advanced so far
ahead of the loiterer that they were quite out of sight. This was
the timid young man’s opportunity to enter an aperture and silently
await the return of his friends. Then he could slip out unseen and
join them as they returned to the entrance of the Cave. His plan
would have worked wonderfully well for him, had not Jack studied the
sketch given him that morning by the host of El Rito Ranch. By this
map it was found that an exit could be used by going single file
through a crevice at the end of the Cave, and emerging some distance
away from the main entrance.
The sense of adventure proved a factor in the general approval to
follow this exit, so Jack led on and used his pocket flash-light to
show the way. The others followed directly after him, and no one
dreamed that Algy was not one of the party in the Cave where unusual
sights abounded. Each one had been intent upon seeing all that was
possible, hence Algy had been forgotten for the time being.
Finally Jack led them out once more to the dry, clear, invigorating
air, and then they picked a careful pathway around the cliff to get
back to their rendezvous with the chauffeur. Not till then did they
realize that one of the party was missing.
“Why—good gracious me! Where did he go?” exclaimed Polly.
“When did you see him last?” asked Jack, wonderingly, as he turned
and gazed along the trail to the Cave.
“Really—I can’t say,” admitted Dodo; and Mrs. Alexander also
confessed that she had not missed her usual escort.
“Could he have fallen down one of the slippery sides of the rocky
way we came out?” asked Mrs. Courtney, anxiously.
“Hardly! The trail is too carefully guarded against accident,”
returned Jack.
“Well, anyway, we can’t go on without him. We’ve got to hunt him up
now,” declared Dodo, impatiently. Then she added, to her mother,
“Why don’t you tie him to your apron-strings, since he is not
capable of taking care of himself?”
“You don’t expect me to sacrifice my pleasure by playing nurse maid
to your admirer, do you?” retorted Mrs. Alexander.
“You know very well that he never would have joined this party were
it not that you insisted that he come. He knows I despise his airs
and silly attentions, but you keep encouraging him. So it’s up to
you to assume responsibility for his safety. He cannot take care of
himself, as you can see.”
Thus arguing over the hapless Algy, the two arguers followed Jack
back to the Painted Cave. But so much time had been devoted to other
sights that day, that now it was twilight once more and the Cave
entrance was shrouded in semi-darkness.
Meanwhile what had become of the lost Algy?
He found the small cave he had entered quite a pleasant
hiding-place. And, seeing a soft covering of dried grass and roots
upon the rock at one side, he decided to sit down and rest, while
waiting to catch the sound of the voices of his returning friends.
He sat thus for some time, but he preferred doing nothing, even
though he had to sit in a low, rock-ribbed cavelet while doing so.
He felt drowsy, and he was tired from the long tramps of the day
before, plus the constant walking while exploring the places where
he saw nothing to rave over—as the girls seemed to do.
As he waited patiently, with now and then a little doze to furnish
necessary stimulus to his weary body, he was suddenly roused by a
horrid noise at the mouth of his retreat. He had penetrated so far
into the small aperture as was possible, and he had no idea of what
the threatening danger might be, but he did understand that without
notice or explanation the place he was in became unexpectedly dark.
He jumped up and ran back to the opening of the crevice and, there,
to his horror, he found that a huge boulder had rolled down and now
filled the entrance and exit of his hiding-place. It was indeed a
hiding-place now!
Algy’s head went round dizzily, and he felt that he would swoon,
only he managed to recollect, too, that he dared not give in to
unconsciousness then, lest his friends pass by during that time and
he would be helpless to shout to them to help free him.
Fear and desperation acted like spurs to his usual lack of physical
control, and he felt relieved to learn that the fainting spell was
passing away. Then he examined the rock in order to see if it might
have left a crevice wide enough for his slim form to pass through.
But no!
He drew in his breath and cramped his almost flat body against the
rough sides of the senseless boulder, and he tore his natty clothes
to shreds upon the jagged edges of the heartless obstruction. Then
he sat down and began to cry childishly, complaining to the silence
of the dark cave the reasons he had for cursing such an outlandish
trip—but he did not dare to use any strong language in his
extremity, because he was not certain whether it would send him to
limbo or not. Hence he remained neutral by merely giving utterance
to what he _wished_ to do under these trying circumstances. Even in
this predicament, Algy felt that he might be overheard by cultured
persons, and he flattered himself that he was acting up to the
nicest form of politeness.
Loneliness and dark solitude are not conducive to polite behavior,
however, as Algy learned after he had been captive in the small
cavelet for some time; still no one passed by on the other side of
that naughty rock!
“I’d blast you to atoms with my vengeance, if I had the means!”
shouted Algy, to the insensible fragment of cliff before him.
Then he ran up and began pounding it with his doubled fists; but
these futile taps merely scratched his flesh and bruised his
knuckles, so he desisted and retired again.
After a few minutes,—seemingly hours to the frantic young
stowaway,—he ran up to the rock again and strove mightily to shove
it ever so little out of its bed, in order to allow him a bit more
space by which he might manage to squeeze past, but the stubborn
obstacle had no intention of giving way—even ever so little.
“Oh, you mean, nasty, old thing!” screamed Algy, striking at the
sharp face of the boulder again and again. “If I was out of here I’d
blow you to bits with a ton of dynamite, so there!” Then he sat down
upon the hard rock-floor and began to weep helplessly.
“Why was I ever beguiled into coming to this awful country, where
there is no pleasure or peace for a highly cultured young man? Oh,
why do I love Dodo Alexander as I do, when I’d rather be heart-free
to go about with my friends at Colorado Springs, instead of having a
slow death in this cave?”
As he reached the end of his lamentations, he, like Job, lifted up
his voice to the high heavens and his wail ended in a yell of fear.
It was well he did so, since that ear-splitting yell reached the
leader of the rescue party—no other than Jack!
“Now you-all stay out here where it is light, and I’ll go in and
show A. A. A. the way out. Seeing they have no exits printed upon
the walls of the Painted Cave, it is no wonder he lost his way.”
Thus saying, Jack ran into the Cave and came opposite the place
where Algy sat Indian fashion upon the ground, his nose lifted up in
the air after the manner of a hound when he bays at night.
“Say, A. A. A.! Stop that nerve-racking howl, will you?” called
Jack, locating him by his cries.
“Oh, Jack! Is that you, dearest boy? Help me out of this death, and
I’ll never forget you,” shouted Algy, in a frenzy of hope.
“I’ll get you out, if I can, without your everlasting remembrance,”
laughed Jack, going over to try to push the boulder aside. But he
found it would not budge an inch.
“Say! why don’t you come out the same way you went in?” asked Jack,
finally.
“I cawn’t, you know! I came in, and that blawsted rock rolled down
and blocked the way. Do push it away, won’t you, precious Jack.”
“Say, there! stop calling me names, will you? I’ll go right home,
and never play with you again, if you dub me one of those mushy
things again,” growled Jack, glaring at the rock fiercely, as though
it were Algy.
“Yes, yes, yes! I’ll agree to anything, Jack de—only get me out
safely, at once,” whimpered Algy.
Jack tried again to move the boulder, ever so little, but it seemed
to be wedged tight, and he realized that he must get assistance.
“A. A. A., I’ve got to go back to the car and get the chauffeur to
come and help. Also, we must have a crow-bar, or a length of tree,
to pry under the stone and move it. You sit down and play tag with
your fingers, while I am gone for help.” Without waiting for Algy’s
mournful reply to stay nearby with him and not leave him alone in
the dark, Jack rushed away and was soon out of the cave.
A few words shouted to the girls explained where he was going, and
then he was out of sight.
Well, between the driver of the car, a broad-shouldered Amazon of a
westerner, and Jack, the dandified New Yorker, and a stout trunk of
a tree which had been found and dragged to the cave niche where A.
A. A. still wept and wailed for succor, the rock was moved enough to
enable Algy to come through the aperture made for him.
But, oh! what a sight he made, when he appeared in the light of the
flash-lamp. Jack doubled over with laughing, and the driver hastily
glanced back to assure himself that the ladies were not able to see
the scarcely covered form of thin little Algernon.
“Here! throw this dust-coat about you, Mister, and button it all the
way down, or the girls will jump into the Canyon,” roared the
heartless chauffeur, as he offered this protection to A. A. A.
CHAPTER VI
ALBUQUERQUE FESTIVITIES
Upon arriving at the hotel in Albuquerque, Jack was given a letter
written by Mr. Dalken that same morning. In it he explained that Mr.
Alexander, Mr. Fuzzier and he had to go on to Gallup in order to
confer with several other gentlemen who would be in that place for a
few days. Jack was told to conduct his friends to such points of
interest as they might wish to see, and to come on to Gallup not
later than three days from date.
“Hurrah!” shouted Jack, waving the paper at the girls, as they
waited for him in one of the beautiful alcoves of the hotel, “We
have _carte blanche_ to do whatever we please for the next three
days. Dalky has to be in Gallup, where we will meet him when we
leave here.”
“Oh!” returned Polly, regretfully, “I was sure we would have him
with us on our tours in Albuquerque.”
“What’s the matter with me—any complaints about my manner of
playing host?” demanded Jack.
“No, but that’s just it, Jacky,” laughed Eleanor. “You only _play_
host, while Dalky is the real thing.”
“Humph!” snorted Jack, then he turned away to Dodo. “I see you
disagree with the others—and it’s just as well that you do, or I
would resign, and take up my valet duties again.”
The girls smiled, but Algy had not heard of Jack’s engagement as a
valet, so he was horrified at what he just heard.
“Valet! Valet! Wh-y,—I was told by Mrs. Alexander that you were
quite my equal in society. She never mentioned the fact that you had
been a common servant,” gasped Algy, horrified at the disclosure.
“Oh! didn’t you,” was Jack’s delighted reply. “Perhaps Mrs. Alex.
never knew it herself, or I’m sure she never would have associated
with me so intimately.” Then Jack sighed heavily and added, to the
girls’ intense amusement, “I have had a hard life of it—till Mr.
Dalken took an interest in my future career and offered me the
position of valet to himself. You can imagine how I jumped at such a
chance—having been a waif thrown upon the mercies of a cold world
all those years!”
“You don’t say!” was all Algy could whisper in his distress at
hearing such astounding revelations from a young man whom he had
fondly believed to be a millionaire. What a shock to his sensitive
self!
“You will pawdon me, I’m suah, Mr. Baxter, but I—ah—feel that I
must attend to an urgent errand,” stammered the troubled youth.
“Certainly! Certainly!” agreed Jack, grinning broadly as Algy
hurriedly left the group to seek out Mrs. Alexander.
“Oh! That’s the best joke yet!” laughed Eleanor.
“The little snob!” muttered Dodo, angrily. “Now he’ll act so
superior to Jack that life will be made wretched.”
“It will be the best fun I ever had, Dodo, and I don’t want you to
spoil it by telling the child the truth about me,” said Jack.
“We’ll have to warn Dalky and Mrs. Courtney then, or they’ll wonder
what’s wrong with A. A. A.,” added Polly.
“You tell Mrs. Courtney, and I’ll put Dalky and Dodo’s father on,”
laughed Jack, gleefully.
Before the plotters had had time to plan for their next diversion,
the hotel porter came over to Jack and asked politely: “I am holding
a number of trunks for your party, sir, and I shall be glad to
deliver them to the rooms you direct me to.”
“Trunks! Why, we brought our light luggage with us,” exclaimed Jack,
astonished.
“These were forwarded from the Spring Hotel at Colorado Springs, and
they are plainly directed to Mrs. Alexander, care Dalken Party,
Alvarado Hotel, Albuquerque,” explained the porter.
“Goodness me! They are _mother’s_ trunks!” cried Dodo, with intense
annoyance. “I warned her not to send her trunks, because we would
have no need for elaborate clothes. She promised me she would have
the hotel management store them for her till further notice. Now
what does she mean?”
It was soon explained, because Mrs. Alexander now joined the
surprised circle of young friends and used her loftiest manner in
addressing the porter and Jack.
“Young man (to Jack), show the porter to my room, and help him
unstrap the trunks.” She held forth the key to her room as she
spoke.
Dodo was about to exclaim, but Jack sent her a look, and the other
two girls nudged her quickly to keep her quiet. Jack took the
proffered key, and nodded to the staring porter to follow him.
“I got ’em on the freight elevator, sir. We got to go up that way,”
announced the porter, apologetically.
“Quite right, porter,” retorted Mrs. Alexander. “All servants should
be made to use other elevators than those their masters use.”
“Mother!” exclaimed Dodo, frowning at such airs, but Jack bowed
humbly and followed the porter.
“Don’t you ever look at me, or speak to me in such a shocked manner
again, Dorothy, when I am addressing servants. If there is any
reason left in this world of silly democracy since the War, I’m
going to find it, and I shall act as though I understood the rights
of Class. If you prefer to follow with the rabble along with your
father, do so.”
Dodo turned away in anger, but she did not reply as usual to her
mother’s irritating remarks. Then Mrs. Alexander hurried away also,
leaving Polly and Eleanor alone to discuss the peculiar situation.
When Jack got back to the hotel lobby no one he knew was to be seen,
and he rightly decided that all had gone to their rooms. Then he
strolled over to the desk and began to chat with the clerk. When he
left him again, the clerk was seen to be smiling appreciatively at a
joke.
That day was spent in seeing the sights of Albuquerque, and
arrangements were made for a motor trip to Isleta, Laguna and Acoma,
including the Enchanted Mesa. Jack had engaged a seven-passenger car
as usual, which would carry the entire party, but Mrs. Alexander and
Algy refused to go. Dodo looked furious after she had asked her
mother privately for her reasons in not being one of the group, and
the other girls and Jack had no trouble in guessing the cause—why
two members of their group dropped out of the sight-seeing. Jack
smiled.
The five remaining members of the outing party enjoyed the day as
much as though Algy and Mrs. Alexander had been with them, and it
must be confessed that the ride was far more enjoyable with but five
in the car, which made it possible for Jack to be with his friends,
instead of sitting outside beside the driver.
Isleta and the Ruins were visited that day, but Laguna and Acoma
were left for the following day. This change of plan was agreed upon
after Jack was told by the chauffeur of the mid-week dance to be
given at the hotel that night. Immediately, the young folks voted to
go back in time to rest and be ready for the hop.
Dinner was speedily disposed of, and then the girls hurried to their
rooms to dress in the simple evening frocks which they had packed in
their light luggage. Polly and Eleanor were soon ready, and then
they ran to Dodo’s room to help her if necessary. A few minutes
after they were comfortably seated and watching Dodo slip her feet
into silver brocade slippers, a sharp rap sounded upon the door.
“That’s Ma’s knock,” whispered Dodo, going to unlock the door. She
was right. Mrs. Alexander entered the room with a gorgeous frock
over her arm.
“I brought your dress for this evening, Dodo,” she said, dropping it
upon the bed. Then she sneered at the simple gown her daughter wore.
“You don’t mean to say that you’d be seen in this exclusive hotel in
that rag!”
Polly and Eleanor wore similar unpretentious dresses and they
wondered what Mrs. Alexander would think of their costumes! Dodo was
not to be so easily influenced as once she had been long ago, while
on that European tour. She had developed a great deal of
independence since that time, and she had scant patience with her
mother’s whims.
“This is not a personal affair, Ma, nor is it expected that
transient guests dress like all-possessed. You’d look a hundred per
cent more exclusive, and appear in better taste, if you’d remove
that imported Paris gown and all your diamonds, and wear a simpler
rig,” advised Dodo, her expression plainly condemning her mother’s
tendency to display her finery.
“When one has jewels and clothes like mine, it is foolish to keep
them in the trunks. How is the world to know we have these things,
unless we show them?” demanded Mrs. Alexander, angrily.
“There are places where it is correct to wear them, and there are
people who know enough to keep them for proper occasions; but you’ll
find such society members do not consider this sort of an impromptu
hop the place to show off personal effects.”
“Humph! I suppose you are throwing Mrs. Courtney up to me, by
speaking of society persons who know how to dress! Well, I will say
this much: I wouldn’t _think_ of traveling in such a dowdy
tailormade suit as she wears on this trip. Not a speck of trimming
on it, and no panels or drape to conform to the very latest fashion.
Her ball-gown most likely will be similar to her convent-like taste
in dressing,” declared Mrs. Alexander.
Eleanor flared up in defence of her friend’s perfect judgment in
dressing. “If you knew the price of that exclusive tailormade suit
imported direct from London a few weeks ago, and showing next
season’s advanced styles, you’d change your mind, Mrs. Alex.”
But Mrs. Alex. had no opportunity to change her mind at that moment,
since a knock sounded upon the door, and Dodo opened it to admit the
lady just being discussed. The moment the girls saw Mrs. Courtney,
they felt secretly delighted. She wore a handsome though strictly
suitable black velvet gown relieved only by a long string of
beautiful pearls about her neck. In contrast to the flashily gowned
Mrs. Alexander, there could be no doubt as to the good taste of the
one dressed in simple black.
Mrs. Alexander must have felt the silent rebuke of the other lady’s
quiet appearance, for she tossed her extravagantly coiffured head
and marched to the half-open door. There she turned and said: “I
expect you to wear that dress I brought in, Dodo,” then she was
gone.
“Ma may expect it of me, but she is doomed to disappointment, this
time,” remarked Dodo, giving the dress a disgusted look.
“If you are ready, girls, we may as well go down to the dance,”
suggested Mrs. Courtney, wondering what had caused the suppressed
anger so plainly manifested on the faces of the three girls.
“Yes,” cried Eleanor, jumping up quickly; “let’s get out of here
before we explode.”
Grasping Dodo by the hand, she dragged her towards the door. Polly,
laughing, followed with Mrs. Courtney. They descended and upon
arriving at the ball-room where the mid-week hop was held, they
found Jack waiting for them.
“The poor valet has to ask some fair lady to befriend him, because
A. A. A. and his patroness just sailed past me without a glance.
Even a lapdog may be given a kindly look or a bonbon,” complained
Jack.
“You do not seem to be downcast over your treatment,” giggled Dodo.
“But come along—I’ll take you under my wing and introduce you to
the Honorable Algy and my Ma.”
“Better not! Ma may send you to bed,” warned Eleanor. “Or more
dreadful still, Algy may never be seen in your company again, if you
persist in associating with a mere valet.”
“S-s-h! Girls, remember Mrs. Alexander is Dodo’s mother, and as such
she is entitled to your respect,” was Mrs. Courtney’s rebuke.
There were many dancers on the floor when Polly and her friends were
ready to join them, and the sight of pretty gowns and still prettier
faces presented a festive scene. Since there was but one man in
their party, the girls urged Jack to take Dodo for the first
dance—in spite of Mrs. Courtney’s shake of the head. And off Dodo
and Jack danced.
At first glance nothing was seen of Mrs. Alexander and Algy; soon,
however, they were seen whirling swiftly around in the dance,
drawing nearer and nearer to Dodo and the despised “valet”—both of
whom danced slowly and gracefully. The other two girls and their
chaperon watched the two couples eagerly.
Algy seemed to think that speed in dancing proved he was a past
master in the art, so he, metaphorically speaking, “stepped on the
gas” at every other round, gathering momentum as he whirled.
Naturally his partner had to keep step with him or give up the race.
But Mrs. Alexander was not the woman to give up a dancing partner,
even though that partner flew around like a mad kitten after a ball
of wool.
As might have been foreseen by the watchers of this comedy, Algy and
his partner, in blindly wheeling fast and furiously, collided with
Dodo and Jack, who were chatting and enjoying the rhythm of the
music and the motion of the sliding steps.
Jack seemed slender in black evening clothes, but he was a splendid
athlete, and his body was hard as nails. Thus, when the soft pulpy
form of Mrs. Alexander struck him back to back, it was not Jack who
grunted and fell over.
Algy, being a “fragile darling,” and never prepared for emergencies,
was lifted from his feet when Mrs. Alexander began to slip and
gyrate, while endeavoring to balance in an upright position. The
grip the lady maintained upon the only tangible thing at hand made
Algy hop-skip-and-jump about like a Jack-on-a-stick. But all this
performing took only a few moments to accomplish, then came the
end—upon the floor.
For such a little fellow Algy needed more room in sprawling than
three big men could have covered. Consequently he managed to trip
several other couples who could not avoid dancing close to the
danger zone, and they, too, began to slip and slide about
grotesquely before they subsided upon the floor.
Polly and Eleanor, try as they would, could not help laughing at the
amusing scene; and others in every direction joined in the general
laugh. The music now came to an abrupt end, leaving the embarrassed
group of unfortunates the center of attraction.
Mrs. Alexander, much too stout for her elaborate gown, had paid the
room-maid handsomely to strap her into her harness. Then she found
it possible to work herself into the tight-fitting costume. She had
had difficulty in breathing, however, and soon after Algy began to
whirl her giddily around the floor, she wished with all her heart
that she had had courage to refuse to dance. But she had heard that
dancing made people slender and sylphlike, so she had succumbed to
the temptation.
After turning about like a whirligig, Mrs. Alexander had appreciated
why dancing made one thin—she was perspiring freely and had no
opportunity in which to dry her streaming face. Her breath had
become shorter and shorter, and her head seemed to swim. At the last
she felt that she must drop or die, but instead, had come the
collision.
Now she doubled up on the smooth floor, gasping madly for a bit of
air. The more she struggled to gain a foothold on the waxed wood,
the more she slid and gasped. Finally a desperately deep breath
broke the bonds which held her lungs and heart as in a vise, and
instantly there sounded the r-r-r-ip of a tight seam.
“Ah!” sighed the wearer of the armor, as she released her pent-up
lungs and thought she would fly from sheer lightness. Then she
recollected where she was. This reminded her that she must divert
the laughter from herself to others, so she instantly pretended to
faint—to rouse sympathy in place of ridicule. And she was an adept
at fainting.
“Oh, I say! Mah deah Mrs. Alex.! Do try to sit up,” cried Algy,
plaintively, when he saw her head roll back and her eyes close.
But his partner seemingly was dead to his supplications. He managed
to stand up, and then he gazed helplessly around for some one to
come and advise him what to do. His eyes, in their roving, found the
despised valet watching him with ill-concealed amusement.
“Oh, I say theah! Come heah, and lift this lady from the floah.” But
Jack turned and gave his attention to the girls. Mrs. Courtney
seemed to be urging them to do something against which they
rebelled.
Algy felt angry at a common valet’s treatment of him, and now he
cried aloud shrilly: “I say! Mr. Dalken’s valet—you, Baxtah! Come
heah directly, and lift this lady to a chaih!”
Several men sprang over at the call, believing the poor woman to be
injured; and finally Dodo had to go with Mrs. Courtney to see that
her mother was not hurt. Dodo had declared the truth—that she knew
her mother too well to fear that anything worse than chagrin could
be the matter with her.
Even while Mrs. Alexander was planning what to do, should they try
to carry her to an alcove to revive, an unexpected turn was given
events, by the presence of a physician. He kneeled upon the floor
beside the prostrate woman and took her wrist between his practised
fingers. As he counted the strong, regular beats, he began to smile.
Evidently the doctor had no patience with women who played upon the
sympathy of their friends. He must have seen other cases similar to
Mrs. Alexander’s, because he applied a drastic remedy.
“Here, gentlemen—lend me a pocket-knife, will you? I must slash
this gown up and down to give the patient plenty of room to breathe.
And you, my good woman, remove her jeweled dog-collar so her neck
muscles can act. Hold it till she revives—it’s only paste, I
suppose.”
The very idea of slashing that wonderful gown was bad enough to
bring consciousness back to a dying woman, but add to that the awful
fact that a ten-thousand-dollar collar would be handled as though
the stones were paste, was too much! Suddenly Mrs. Alexander sat up!
She forgot to regain consciousness slowly and gracefully, but she
remembered the heartless doctor’s words—only paste!
“Don’t you dare ruin my gown!” cried she, catching hold of the hand
that would devastate a Parisian model. “As for my diamonds being
paste! Well, I can show you the insurance on them. Paste, indeed!”
With this retort, Mrs. Alexander managed to stand on her feet,
though it was not done without awkwardness.
“There!” muttered Dodo, flushing scarlet, “Didn’t I tell you so?”
And the poor girl turned away quickly and hurried from the room.
Mrs. Courtney followed immediately, beckoning Polly and Eleanor to
come, too.
CHAPTER VII
JACK’S VALET DUTIES
After a full realization of what must be the general opinion of Mrs.
Alexander in the hotel, every one in the Dalken party felt eager to
get away from Albuquerque. Hence, the morning following the hop and
its disastrous result for Dodo’s mother, the tourists left for
Gallup.
They had not thought of telegraphing to Mr. Dalken of their changed
plans, but Jack had been thoughtful enough to wire the hotel
management to reserve several of their best suites for his party.
Thus they found everything in readiness for them, but Mr. Dalken was
out with his two associates, Mr. Alexander and Mr. Fuzzier. Jack
thought the hotel manager would tell Mr. Dalken that his friends
were due to arrive that day, but the manager, not knowing that the
signed name of “John Baxter,” upon the telegram meant anything to
his star guest never mentioned it.
Consequently there was a great surprise awaiting Mr. Alexander and
Mr. Dalken that evening when they came back to their hotel: an
unpleasant surprise for the little miner-millionaire, and a pleasant
one for the New York millionaire.
“By the Great Horned Spoon, Dalken! Ain’t that my wife sittin’ over
there with that silver-headed dude?” whispered Mr. Alexander, as he
caught a glimpse of a gorgeously gowned woman conversing eagerly
with the great and only A. A. A.
“Why—yes,” responded Mr. Dalken, as he caught hold of his
companion’s arm, to prevent him from getting away again—little Mr.
Alexander’s instinct of self-preservation was as strong now as ever
it had been in the dangers and risks of a gold-miner’s claims and
work.
“Come with me to the register and see if our entire party is here.
No one will see you, if you walk in front of me, you know,” advised
Mr. Dalken.
That seemed to calm Mr. Alexander’s perturbed mind, and he managed
to keep well out of sight of his wife as he walked over to the desk.
The register showed the names of all the members of the New York
party, plus the names of Dodo and her mother, plus a name which
filled the whole line—“Honorable Algernon Alfred Alveston, London,
England.”
“Huh!” jeered Mr. Alexander. “Now he’s takin’ to callin’ himself an
honorable! Wonder if he really comes from London, England, or
London, Connecticut?”
Mr. Dalken laughed at the sarcastic look in his friend’s eyes, and
he added: “There’s a London in Canada, too, you know.”
“Yeh, I s’pose so!” muttered Mr. Alexander. “Mebbe, afore I get
through with A. A. A. he’ll be fixin’ to run away to London,
Canada!”
“My dear friend, don’t waste your ire on him,” advised Mr. Dalken.
“He’s perfectly harmless, and he keeps your wife engaged in pleasant
entertainments. Remember, that allows you more freedom to seek after
your own interests.”
“Well, I ain’t so sure about his bein’ harmless!” retorted Mr.
Alexander. “He’s after Dodo, you see, and I won’t stand for any
monkeyshines in that direction—not even if the Missus swears A. A.
A. can pay court to my gal. Dodo is more like me, and she ain’t got
use for no prancin’ little scatter-brain like him.”
Having aired his grievance, Mr. Alexander felt better, and Mr.
Dalken had no difficulty in persuading him to use the stairway
discovered in the corridor outside the smoking room. Thus they would
not need to cross the lobby, where Mrs. Alexander and Algy might see
any one who came in or went out.
Polly and her friends learned, that night, that Mr. Dalken would
have to remain in Gallup for about a week, so this would give the
tourists ample time in which to visit such points of interest as
Zuñi, Inscription Rock (which is now a National Monument), the
Mormon settlement of Ramah, and other sights. Being November, Jack
learned that the famous Shalako dance of the Zuñi Indians was to be
held that week. Since this is the most interesting of all the
amazing Zuñi celebrations, the girls were delighted to find they
would be able to see it.
Mrs. Alexander had been silenced by her fiasco at the hotel hop in
Albuquerque, and its effects had made her show more friendliness
towards Jack, but she still thought that he should be made to fetch
and carry for Mr. Dalken’s companions, so she felt no compunction in
asking him to do errands for her.
This arrogance of his revered friend seemed to be contagious for
Algy, and he had no hesitancy in asking Jack to get things for him,
or to go to learn what the girls wished to do that day. Naturally
Jack refused to dance attendance upon the unpopular young man, and
Mrs. Alexander called this “insubordination on the part of a
servant.”
“Why don’t you complain to Mr. Dalken,” asked Dodo one day, after
hearing her mother complain about “that valet.”
“I would, in a minute, if the man were your father’s valet. Being
Mr. Dalken’s man-servant, however, I’m not sure whether we ought to
ask favors of him,” admitted Mrs. Alexander.
Dodo laughed. “Well, you might tell Dad about him, and get Dad to
complain to Mr. Dalken.”
“That’s a fine idea, Dodo! I’ll do it the minute I see your father
again,” declared Mrs. Alexander, a satisfied expression of
retaliation settling upon her face.
Algy was seen approaching at this moment, so Dodo hastened away to
tell Jack and her friends about her mother’s decision. But Mrs.
Alexander confided in Algy that now she had a way to make that
insolent valet mind his business! Thereupon she told Algy what she
purposed doing, the next time Jack showed any inclination to balk at
work or duty.
“I shall remembah this, deah Mrs. Alex., the next time I have
occasion to use the fellah, and he sneers me out of countenance,”
added Algy, a gleam of malice flitting over his expressionless face.
The entire group of tourists were gathered in the Lounge that
evening, when Jack spoke of his plans for the week they would remain
in Gallup. “I made a rough sketch of Gallup and various points of
interest that we ought to see. But I figured out that it would be
waste of time to motor half-way across Arizona to visit the Hopi
Indian Reservation, and the wonderful sights near the Grand Canyon.
Those can be seen when we stop at Flagstaff, with Dalky.”
Mrs. Courtney and Mr. Dalken merely nodded their heads in agreement
with Jack’s suggestions. But Mrs. Alexander failed to see the nods,
and thought this a splendid opportunity to set Algy against Jack.
Therefore she whispered eagerly to her ever-present shadow,
A. A. A., and he seemed spurred to action.
“Aw, I say, Mistah Dalken, it seems rawtheh impertinent, don’chaw
know, for a meah servant to dictate to us like this,” began Algy,
pulling fiercely at the few lonesome white hairs upon his upper lip.
Mr. Dalken turned and glanced at Algy in surprise. He had not been
informed that Jack was rigging this “darling of the gods.” He
heartily disapproved of A. A. A.’s standards and behavior, and now
he felt slightly annoyed at what he said.
Algy thought the New York financier showed concern over the
situation—a situation made impossible by having a man-servant sit
in such intimate relations with his master and his master’s friends.
Fully convinced that he was doing the gallant deed for all the
ladies who did not wish to hurt Mr. Dalken’s feelings, Algy summoned
courage and continued his complaint.
“Theah may be places we would like to visit, places quite
incomprehensible to ordinary minds such as servants have. Theahfoh,
we would awsk that the man Baxter be relieved of duties foh which he
is not mentally equipped.” As Algy concluded, he bowed very
deferentially to Mr. Dalken.
“What the blazes is that poor dote drivin’ at?” demanded Mr.
Alexander, scowling at Algy, but speaking to his wife.
“S-sh! Don’t interfere!” commanded his wife, sternly.
“I won’t ‘s-s-sh’ at such an insult,” rebelled Mr. Alexander. “And
what’s more, if that Barnum’s Freak wants to toddle by your side
during this trip to Arizony, he’s got’ta watch his step! We ain’t
got time ner room for him to hold up any game, lemme tell you-all,
and there ain’t no call fer him to have any opinions ‘bout
nawthin’—not even Jack Baxter!” As Mr. Alexander relieved his mind
of the weight of grievance, he was surprised to hear Jack laugh
outright, and he saw several of the others smiling.
“Oh, Daddy! You made the most awful break just now. You told A. A.
A. he had no right to any opinions about nothing—not even Jack’ and
I’m sure Jack thinks he is a great deal more than ‘nothing.’ At
least, Dalky thinks so, or he never would have brought him west as
his valet,” explained Dodo, laughingly.
Mr. Alexander frowned at his evident error, but he added: “It’s
enough to make a man talk ten ways to onct! Having such trouble tag
on at his heels!” But he failed to designate the particular
“trouble,” though he glared at Algy in a way that said: “You are the
cause of all the misunderstanding.”
Meanwhile Jack had hurried to Mr. Dalken’s side and was explaining
something in a low whisper. Mr. Dalken seemed to receive light on a
problem, and then he shook his head disapprovingly, even though he
had to smile as he disapproved. Jack took a chair nearby, and, as
soon as Mr. Alexander had stopped speaking, he cleared his throat
and resumed.
“My master says that I am to continue the plans, since I have them
prepared. So, awsking A. A. A.’s pawdon for my offensive self, I
will say this much:
“One trip we ought to take is the one which goes to St. Michael’s
Mission, and from there on to Canyon de Chelly and Canyon del
Muerto, by way of Fort Defiance, in Arizona. If we had enough time
we also ought to tour onward from Chinlee, to Monument Valley and
the marvelous sights in the northern section of the State. Those
points of interest which may be approached from the Flagstaff tour
can be visited later, when we start for the Grand Canyon trip.
“Another trip we ought to take, starting from Gallup, is the trail
due north to the Ute Indian Reservation, and the Mesa Verde Park.
These trips will use up seven or eight days’ time, and Dalky figures
he will be through here in that time. Therefore, in order to take in
the visits to the Painted Desert near Adamana, and the Petrified
Forest, just across the borderline of Arizona, we might motor from
Gallup, as we turn our backs upon New Mexico, and continue on our
way to Flagstaff in automobiles, instead of on train. That will give
us ample opportunity to see the wonderful sights along the route,
and we can remain as long as we choose at each place. After reaching
Flagstaff, the cars can be sent back to Gallup. Now, what do you say
to these plans?”
As Jack finished his plans, he glanced hopefully around at his
friends to receive their delighted thanks and approval for his
arduous sketch. Instead of hearing words of commendation, such as he
had expected from the girls and Mrs. Courtney, he heard Mrs.
Alexander’s voice.
“No one seems to notice the insult to a lady—of course, my husband
does not count, since he never took lessons in social deportment and
modern etiquette, so his words spoken a short time ago bear no
weight with me;—but I refer to insults to ladies by allowing
men-servants in friendly intercourse with their betters. I have
tried to stand this degrading intimacy with a common valet, and I
must say that, if the young man is going to run this trip, I shall
leave the party!”
Mrs. Alexander stood up during the delivery of this frigid speech,
and, having had her say, stared at Mr. Dalken, whose eyes seemed
riveted upon the floor, and his tongue likewise riveted to silence.
Then she shifted her glance to Mrs. Courtney, who seemed eager to
have Mr. Dalken explain matters. Then her eyes wandered on to the
three girls who were stifling their laughter with handkerchiefs.
This was too much for the complainant.
“Very well! I am to understand that the fellow remains at his post
as major domo, so I am to leave the party. But I will add that my
daughter and Mr. Alveston, as well as my husband, Mr. Alexander,
leaves with me. Come, Dodo, follow me and pack your trunks.” And
Mrs. Alexander beckoned her child to obey.
“Don’t try any funny stunts like this, Maggie!” commanded Mr.
Alexander, getting up from his chair and placing a restraining hand
upon Dodo’s shoulder. “I’m cashier of this outing, remember, and I
ain’t got no patience with your fol-de-rols. It’s bad enough to have
to foot the bills for your escort, but I figger he comes cheaper, at
that, than a maid would cost me. So let him stick to the job, if he
likes. About traipsin’ away with Dodo and me, howsomever—that’s a
horse of another color, and it’s a color I don’t take to. If A. A.
A. wants to run away, we’ll shake a by-by at him and wish him a safe
journey back home—wherever he started from. But you stay right with
me—understand!”
“Why, Ebeneezer Alexander! Do you think, for one little minute, that
I’m going to be ordered about by you?” demanded the irate lady,
flushing as red as a peony, with pent-up fury. “I just reckon not!
I’ll go now, if only to show you that you can’t make me do as you
say. I’ve got enough money left from my Colorado Springs trip to
take me as far from you as I can get. Then dear Algy will see that I
go further.” She was so excited that she failed to understand that
she had made a laughable remark about the end of her proposed
journey.
Algy now arose gallantly to the demand upon his chivalry. “I
certainly will escort yuah theah, deah lady,” mumbled he, tugging at
his infantile mustache.
Mr. Alexander threw back his head and laughed loudly. “Well, mebbe
it’s just as well that you two git out. You never was invited,
remember, and my good friends never said a word about your gettin’
on their nerves, but I can appreciate how broken down their feelin’s
must be by this time. We-all kin get a rest, now. And mebbe Algy
will see to it that you two travel all the way to Reno!”
“Father!” came from Dodo, in shocked tones.
“Don’t worry, Dodo. They won’t take the hint, but I shall have to,
if your Ma sails off in company with that poor stick.”
Mrs. Alexander had reached the door by this time, and she merely
turned to give her liege lord a scathing look. Then she vanished
behind the portières. Algy toddled at her heels.
“Dear me!” cried Mrs. Courtney, in deep distress, “when Jack begged
me to pretend he was a valet, I never dreamed the joke would assume
these dreadful phases. Now it is time it was stopped, Mr. Dalken.”
“I told Jack this evening, when he explained what had been the
impression given to Mrs. Alexander and her young friend, that I
disapproved of the entire plot. Now it is up to him to get us out of
the unpleasant scrape,” replied Mr. Dalken, seriously.
“What’s all this?” demanded Mr. Alexander, wonderingly.
Dodo now began to explain to her father how the mistake of Jack
being a servant had started, and how it had been received by Algy.
She spared her father the story of how her mother danced with Algy
at the hop, in the hotel at Albuquerque, because he seemed annoyed
enough at the fact that a member of his democratic family would
spurn a young man for no other cause than that he was earning his
living.
“I say, it serves that white-haired dude right—to let him show
what’s in him, by the way he acts now. But Jack won’t have to play
valet longer, with Algy out of the way,” explained Mr. Alexander.
Mrs. Courtney did not agree with the little man, and she lost no
time in saying what she thought. “It is not fair to Mrs. Alexander
to play the joke any longer. Dodo must appreciate that her mother is
her natural guardian and as such must be honored and obeyed. We must
try to explain away the differences between us all, and introduce
harmony for the remainder of the tour.”
Mr. Dalken showed his appreciation of these words, by the glance of
admiration he sent Mrs. Courtney; but the glance was not seen by
Polly or Eleanor, because they were too concerned about their “fun.”
“We-e-ll,” came slowly from Mr. Alexander’s lips, “you ought to know
what’s right, Mrs. Courtney; but I must say, my Missus ain’t so much
a guardian and protector of her child like-as-how you seem to say.
Little Dodo’s got me to advise her, and to see that she don’t make
mistakes in choosin’ the wrong husband—but the Missus would have
her gal marry any dumb-bell, as long as he had a title er money.
Ain’t it so, friends? I appeal to you: how about the Urope tower,
when Dodo and me had to elope to get out of marryin’ that Osgood
dude, eh?”
Mrs. Courtney had heard of this unique elopement of Dodo with her
Dad, and she could not help smiling at the remembrance. Still she
felt that certain respects were due Mrs. Alexander, in spite of that
lady’s foolishness and ignorant chase for society honors, and she
said so now.
Mr. Dalken upheld her verdict, and then he turned to Jack.
“Well, seeing how eager you were to keep on acting as my valet, we
will make use of you as one. It is part of your duty to me. I will
write a letter of explanation to Mrs. Alexander, and tell her of
your engagement to serve me during this trip—that you were to
escort the girls and their chaperon to different places on this
Southwest tour, thus affording me all the leisure I would require to
attend to my business appointments. I will confess that you have
other resources to live upon than the salary I pay you; then I will
admit that the salary is merely nominal, since you were eager to
take this journey with us. If that doesn’t fetch the lady to her
senses, then I shall have to try and discover other means. Now, you
all keep quiet while I write. Then we will order Jack to deliver the
letter at Mrs. Alexander’s door in person.”
Since Mr. Dalken was Big Chief of the party, there could be no
objections to his plan, and soon he was seated at a writing-table.
He wrote quickly for some time, then read aloud what he had written.
He blotted the sheet, and folded it carefully, then placed it in an
envelope and wrote the name and room number on the outside. Then he
handed this note to Jack with orders to deliver it at once.
“We shall await your return, Jack,” said Mrs. Courtney, settling
herself in a comfortable position to wait.
Jack looked slightly inclined to rebel against his orders, but Mr.
Dalken had turned away towards the fire-place, and the young
ex-valet sauntered out of the room. The girls watched with a grin of
sympathy upon their faces, but not a word was spoken by any one
present. Mr. Alexander, as though defying his wife’s strict
commands, pulled the old black pipe from his pocket and loaded it
with Cut Plug. Then he struck a match on his trousers leg, and lit
the tobacco. In another minute he was smoking away like a clogged
chimney.
Jack was absent more than the specified ten minutes allowed by his
friends, but when he did come back he was laughing to himself.
“Oh! do tell us all about it!” exclaimed the girls, eagerly.
“No, siree! I had to take that bitter dose without the sugar you
girls might have given me, and now I have no intentions of sharing
the sweets that I earned. But you may find out all about it, some
day. Suffice it for me to say: the awful scandal which threatened
the sweet accord of the Alexander couple has been avoided by my
diplomacy. Henceforth Mr. Alexander and his daughter Dodo will be
made supremely happy by having Mrs. Alexander dote upon them, as all
turtle-doves should.” Jack laughed.
“Jack! You are rude!” reprimanded Mr. Dalken, frowning.
“I’ll say he’s gone queer in the head,” added Mr. Alexander,
knocking the ashes from his pet pipe, and getting up to leave the
room. “If he figgers any one’s goin’ to watch me romancin’ again,
after the experence I had fer nigh thirty years, it shows he’s gone
luny. Rather than live up to his idee, I’ll quit the works—so I
will!”
As the little man rushed away, Mr. Dalken jumped up and ran after
him. It must have taken a deal of explanation and assurance from the
leader of the party to Mr. Alexander, to calm his fears and make him
feel that he was not in any immediate danger of having his wife
daily make love to him.
CHAPTER VIII
MR. ALEXANDER’S RUSE
The following morning Algy failed to appear in time to join the
tourists. Mr. Dalken and Mr. Alexander wished them all a good time,
and then hurried away to the business meeting. Mrs. Alexander had
ordered her breakfast served in her room, but she sent word to Jack
that she would be down in time to start with the others on the auto
trip.
Finally, having waited half an hour longer than the time appointed
for starting, Jack sent a bell-boy up to the room occupied by Algy,
and Dodo went to telephone her mother to hurry, if she wished to
accompany them.
Dodo came back to her friends with an impatient expression upon her
face.
“Ma says she will be down in just _one_ little moment. That means
another half-hour to wait! May as well sit down and take life easy,
Jack,” remarked she.
“It does seem a shame that we have to lose a whole hour of this
wonderful day, and then have to rush over the sight-seeing after we
are there,” declared Eleanor, angrily.
At this moment the bell-hop returned to the waiting group with his
astounding information. Word was brought Jack that Mr. A. A.
Alveston had checked out that morning, leaving no word of
explanation. Then he turned and went away again.
“Why! Of all things!” exclaimed Polly, astonished at what she heard.
“There must be some mistake. I can’t picture Algy having enough
gumption to do such a thing without some one to coach him in it.” So
saying, Jack hurried to the clerk to find out if the message was
correct.
“Yes, Mr. Baxter,” replied the clerk, politely. “I was just coming
on for my morning duty when the young man paid his bill and left
orders with the porter for the forwarding of the trunks.”
“Trunks! He only had one, I thought,” gasped Jack.
“I’ll call the porter and you can speak to him,” said the man.
The head porter was called and Jack learned from him that four
trunks were removed and expressed to Williams. Jack felt perplexed,
but he concluded that it was a fortunate day for his friends when
silly A. A. A. had sense enough to realize that he was not a very
welcome addition to the Dalken party. Then he hurried back to tell
his companions of the strange move made by Algy.
“Don’t let’s waste time wondering why he did it, but let us enjoy
the respite he is giving us. It will be dreadful to find him
awaiting us at Williams as he is sure to do, because he hasn’t pep
enough to plan any journey for himself. I will wager anything that
Ma is the cause of this sudden move of his, and she can explain how
he managed to get away so early without saying good-morning to us,”
said Dodo.
At this moment Mrs. Alexander was seen approaching the group. She
was smiling too genially for one who had nothing to hide, and long
before she joined the watching circle of friends, she began to
apologize for her tardiness.
“You see, it is so difficult to dress without the help of a maid. I
am unaccustomed to doing my hair and hooking my gown. And, of
course, Dodo _never_ thinks of me, in these little acts of
kindness.”
“Don’t spoil the day’s outing by explanations,” retorted Dodo,
impatiently. “It’s bad enough for you to have held up the entire
crowd for an hour.”
Jack started for the door, and the others now followed him, but it
was plainly seen that Mrs. Alexander’s coming had failed to add joy
or peace to the party.
Mrs. Courtney now spoke to the lady. “We heard, to our amazement,
that Mr. Alveston has gone. He evidently plans to remain at Williams
for some time, since he had his trunks sent there.”
“Is that so! Well, we need not weep over that,” returned Mrs.
Alexander, pleasantly. “Algy is a dear boy, but he _does_ get on
one’s nerves at times, doesn’t he?”
“I really cannot judge, since I paid so little attention to him, you
know,” replied Mrs. Courtney, just as sweetly as her companion had
spoken. “He seemed to be always attending you, and I was engaged in
attending the girls, you see.”
“Yes, that’s so! Algy must have felt himself out of the group of
young folks. He was quite important a personage at the Springs,
however, and Dodo was the envied one of all the girls there. How
different it must have seemed to him—to be secondary in your
party,” said Mrs. Alexander.
Mrs. Courtney remained silent after this, because she detested
hypocrisy and preferred silence to such empty conversation. So the
two ladies took their seats in the car without further explanations.
While Jack was advising the driver about the trip, Dodo turned to
her mother and spoke.
“What under the sun made you send A. A. A. on with the trunks?”
“My _dear_! As if I was responsible for his leaving you!” the lady
sighed, as though the accusation was too much for her to bear.
“Well, never mind, Ma! We’re all thankful you did it, because it
would have been too distressing to have him slide down one of the
high cliffs we will visit, or get mixed up in an Indian brawl, or
lose himself as usual, when we go to inspect queer caves and ancient
canyons,” laughed Dodo.
Mrs. Alexander seemed mollified at this, and subsided with a fixed
smile upon her lips. A smile that seemed to say sorrowfully: “I’ll
be pleasant no matter what you do or say to me, since I am a martyr,
anyway.”
The young people soon forgot Algy, and Mrs. Alexander exerted
herself to be agreeable to Jack, hence the trip proved to be very
enjoyable to all.
The week passed quickly with so much sightseeing, and the genial
company that agreed pleasantly upon every suggestion Jack made for
them. Then Mr. Dalken and Mr. Alexander concluded their conferences
at Gallup, and, in company with Mr. Fuzzier, informed Jack that they
were ready to leave. Jack then arranged with a man who owned several
fine cars to drive the entire party to Adamana, which was the
nearest stop to the Painted Desert, just north of the town, and the
Petrified Forest to the south of it. It had been decided to visit
the Painted Desert first, and then drive through the Petrified
Forest the next day, and come out near Holbrook, where the entire
party could spend the night. In the morning the three business men
would continue to Ash Fork where they were to remain for a week, to
consult privately with several prominent men. The party under Jack’s
supervision would motor to the Hopi Indian Reservation, where the
wonderful Keams Canyon and the remarkable Hopi Mesas were to be
found. Going southerly from Polacca, he wished his friends to visit
the Giant’s Chain, and then follow the autoroad from Oraibi to the
Painted Desert of the Little Colorado. Thence he would turn off this
road and follow the one which led to Canyon Diablo. Here they would
stop long enough to see all the points of interest, and then motor
on to Flagstaff.
This route was followed, and a week later the two cars ran into
Flagstaff. The passengers and their luggage were soon waiting in the
hotel while Jack paid off the drivers of the automobiles and sent
them back to Gallup. To the delight of the three girls, Mr. Dalken
and his two companions met them as they entered the hotel. This
meant that Dalky would be with them when they visited the Cliff
Dwellings just south of Cliffs, a wonder-spot which they had seen in
the distance when motoring past.
Soon after the party had gone to their individual rooms to brush
away the dust and dirt of touring in a wind which carried the desert
dust upon its wings, Jack’s room-telephone rang. He answered it at
once, and heard his guardian’s voice.
“Jacky, old boy, what do you plan to do the rest of the day?”
“I paid off the chauffeurs and sent them back to Gallup, because I
learned how much cheaper are the cars in Flagstaff. But I have not
hired any; I wanted to hear from you first,” returned Jack.
“Can you come down—or shall I come up?” asked Mr. Dalken.
“I’ll run down—I was about to leave my room, anyway,” said Jack;
then he hung up the receiver and left the room.
A few minutes later he met Mr. Dalken, and sat down beside him to
plan for the week.
“I suppose you all expect me to go about with you to visit the
side-shows of Flagstaff, eh, Jack?” asked Mr. Dalken.
“Why, yes,” returned Jack. “The girls were awfully glad to find that
you were here and would be at liberty to stick to the bunch.”
“Well, that is what I had planned to do, my boy, but we—that is,
Alex., Fuzzy and myself—find we can drive with you as far as
Montezumas Castle, but we will have to leave you there, while we go
on to inspect a stretch of land now for sale. It is not generally
known to be for sale and Alex. says we must get an option on it
before the United Copper Company gets wind of the thing. We just
heard of this last night—Fuzz got a code wire from Chicago, and you
understand that we have to work fast, eh?”
Mr. Dalken seemed anxious, as he confided this news to Jack, and the
young man understood how important it was that his guardian should
be excused from joining the tourists.
“Why, Dalky, every one of us will give up our outings if, by doing
so, we might help you in this work you are developing. Just you go
on exactly as though you were here alone with Fuzzy and Mr. Alex.,
and never waste a thought upon us. In fact, I have done nobly, thus
far, with A. A. A. out of the way. Ask Mrs. Courtney if you doubt
that I made a fine guide.”
“Oh, that reminds me!” exclaimed Mr. Dalken, laughingly. “I saw
Algy—but I will wait and tell the crowd about it later.”
Mr. Fuzzier strolled up at this moment, and Jack got up to shake
hands with him. Then the newcomer spoke to Mr. Dalken.
“I’ve been doing a little private detective work, Dalken, and I find
that a stranger who reminds me of one of the directors of the Copper
Company is staying at this hotel for a few days. Now, how in the
name of conscience are we to get away without their suspecting our
intentions? Lucky we took Alex.’s advice and registered under
assumed names.”
Mr. Dalken turned to Jack and said: “You know what I told you just
now? Well, the girls—and Mrs. Alexander particularly—must be
warned not to greet me as a returned wanderer from Ash Forks. If any
one lurking about finds out how Fuzzy, Alex. and I have been
scouting around the country in quest of capitalists to subscribe for
our new company’s stock, the whole plan of opening the tract
Alexander discovered may go up the flue. On the other hand, it seems
providential that we all arrived about the same time, since it will
seem plausible that we are on a tour of the Grand Canyon and nearby
points of interest. I will leave it to you, Jack, to tell every one
in our party that secrecy about my movements, since I left New York,
is imperative if they wish to help me succeed. This afternoon
at—say—two, we will get in the cars and start to visit Montezumas
Castle, you returning here to-night. But, silence, Jack, upon the
confidential plan I told you—about our going on from the Castle,
and sending you and the ladies back alone—understand?”
“Sure! I’ll skidoo upstairs now, Dalky, and warn the three girls and
Mrs. Courtney about it.”
“Exactly! And I’ll send Alex. up to his wife to put her on guard
about giving things away to strangers—her usual failing,” added Mr.
Dalken.
Then before another word was said, Jack hurried away, and the two
men hastened to the smoking-room to tell their third partner to go
find his wife, and impress upon her the necessity of keeping mum
about the actions and business meetings of her husband and his
partners.
Mr. Alexander smiled cynically as he listened to his friends’
advice; then he replied: “Like-es not, Maggie’ll fly off the handle
and shout all she knows from the housetops, just to badger me into
agreein’ to let that perky dude marry Dodo!”
“Oh, good gracious!” exclaimed Mr. Dalken. “The whole continent of
South America isn’t worth that dreadful mistake.”
“Don’t you worry, friends,” explained the little man, smiling as an
idea entered his tremendous brain. “I’ll fix things so’s Maggie will
be feeding out of my hand for a few days, and by that time there
won’t be no risks of losin’ that property.”
As it was none of Mr. Dalken’s business what his friend said or did
in his private family circle, he did not ask Mr. Alexander how he
planned to keep his wife from publishing the news of her husband’s
close association with a man who added prestige to her social
position. As this news would tell others that three financiers were
affiliated in a way that might bode ill to competitive financiers,
it would be as well to suppress the publisher before she could
broadcast her tidings.
Mr. Alexander hurried away to reach his wife’s room before she could
confide in the chambermaid, or come down to the lounge to see if
she might find any one of importance to whom she might introduce
herself, as was her usual custom when left alone.
In the sanctity (?) of their private room, Mr. Alexander began to
approach his subject in a round-about manner.
“Well, Marguerite, glad to see you lookin’ so good. This bracin’ air
sure does agree with your complexion and tone. A few more weeks of
the same tonic will take twenty years more off your face.”
Mrs. Alexander had just been examining her face and color in the
mirror, and she felt worried over a small wrinkle which she thought
she detected at the corner of her eyes. In spite of all the wrinkle
plasters she used nightly, this fine line crept in unawares, it
seems. But her husband’s surprising compliment—so unusual from
him—pleased her mightily.
“Do you really think so, Ebeneezer? I was just thinking how worn and
aged I had grown since I started on this tiresome tour.”
“Not a bit! Not a bit, Marguerite! I’m the only one that looks worn
and aged. If we-all didn’t know better, you and Dodo could pass for
sisters, all right. I wonder you never thought of lettin’ her go
visitin’ for a season, or so, just to see if folks at home would
credit you with havin’ such a grown-up gal,” continued the wily
little man.
“It does seem too bad, doesn’t it, that Dodo really advertises my
age to the public. I know I look very young to have such a big girl,
but I try to have society people understand that she _looks_ much
older than she is. Still, I don’t know but you are right.” Mrs.
Alexander mused silently over her husband’s remark, after she had
had her say. Mr. Alexander watched quietly and waited for her to
make the next move in this game.
“I’ll have to try your plan out, when we get back to some
fashionable place in the East, Ebeneezer,” finally said Mrs.
Alexander. “Every one in your party knows me here, and even Algy
would laugh if he heard I was trying to play a joke on the public by
passing as Dodo’s sister instead of her mother.”
“I’ll tell you what you might do, Marguerite,—just to try and get
your hand into the game before we-all reach Grand Canyon, which is a
fearful high-toned place, you know. That El Tovar Hotel is one of
the swellest houses in the country, and folks dress to beat the
band. Now, I’ll strike a bargain with you, dearie, if you want to
have some fun by posing as a young lady, heartfree and ready for a
beau, eh?”
Mr. Alexander’s interested smile and his good-natured offer would
have hoodwinked a wiser person than his wife. Being so willing a
victim to blandishments, Mrs. Alexander was ready for the
proposition instantly.
“What bargain do you want to make? I’ll agree to anything that
doesn’t annoy me,” returned she, eagerly.
“Why, it’s this. That you don’t let on Dodo and me are your husband
and daughter until after we leave Arizony. I’ll make believe that
Dodo’s and my name is Ammerman—see. You hang on to Alexander, and
pose as a flapper, if you like, with Dodo and the other gals your
chums. Then I’ll put Dalken wise, to play up as amateur sweetheart,
and Fuzzy must be your steady company. That makes a fine little
comedy, I say, and we’ll see if folks swallow the bait. I’m sure
Dalken and Fuzzier will enjoy the joke as much as you will. The
girls are always out for a lark, and that leaves Jack and Mrs.
Courtney to fix. But, then, Jack will see the fun to be had out of
the play, and Mrs. Courtney doesn’t count any in this plan.”
“Oh, Ebeneezer!” cried Mrs. Alexander delightedly clapping her
beringed hands. “It would be too funny for anything! I can just see
myself with two admiring lovers following around after me. If you
think the others will see what a joke it will be, I’ll play the star
part until we leave Grand Canyon. What a lot of romantic
tête-à-têtes we can have in that lovely resort!”
Her husband grunted silently to himself. But he could not afford to
lose, now that he had won thus far, so he hid his disgust at his
wife’s social aspirations and her yearning for a vanished youth, and
he now made known what she must do for him to clinch the bargain.
“You must act the part of a modest, retiring young lady,
Mag—Marguerite, and keep close to Mrs. Courtney, since she is the
chaperon, you see. Don’t flirt with other men, but make believe you
have your hands full of trouble with keeping off the two elderly
beaux. I’ll put Dalken wise to the play, but Fuzzier is half in love
with you already, I see. He’s not any too particular about loving
another man’s wife, I fear, so he’ll be glad of a chance to make up
to you. Now, then, for my promise to keep Dodo and myself out of
your way, and let you make believe you are Miss Alexander, of New
York, or London, or some other big town: you’ve got to keep secret
that you ever knew a miner by your name; or that Dalken is a
widower, once removed, with his chum, Fuzzier, out here on business.
To play the game right, Dalken and Fuzzier ought to take new names,
too. Fine fix it would be, if some one, knowing of Dalken’s fame as
a New York millionaire, read his name in the hotel register, and
then reported to all the newspapers how he was mad over you! The
same about Fuzzier—only he’s famous in Chicago. Now, I won’t stand
for any such newspaper notoriety, understand? If you want to try out
your hand at acting a part, it’s got to be done proper, and then
I’ll stake my money on you, old gal!”
“Oh! If that is all,” laughed his wife, in relief, “I can promise
that at once. It doesn’t make a bit of difference whether the two
men change their names, or what they do, as long as we go on with
the fun. Then we shall see whether folks really think me as young as
my friends tell me I look.”
“Better begin right here, Mag—Marguerite! I’ll go and coach your
beaux how you are _Miss_ Alexander, and we ain’t no family of yours.
Then I’ll see the girls and teach ’em their parts, too. You dress
the part, and when we start off for Montezumas Castle, you’ll have
things your own way, see?”
“Yes, yes! Hurry away and do as you say. I’ve got to find a youngish
dress in my baggage. What a pity I shipped my trunks on to Williams.
I had lots of Dodo’s fine clothes in them, and they’re just what I
need for this joke.”
“Why not have Dodo loan you one of her suits for to-day? I will send
her here to find out what you want. A few days from now, and you
will have your trunks sent on to Grand Canyon, you know,” advised
her husband, pleasantly.
“That’s a good idea. Run on, and tell Dodo to come to me at once.
But don’t you go and ruin all the fun by calling me by my first
name, as though you knew me intimately!” warned his wife.
“No danger!” laughed Mr. Alexander, as he skipped out of the door
and closed it carefully behind him. Then he shook with mirth as he
remembered how he had slandered the Chicago bachelor, Fuzzier, and
how scandalized Dalken would be to find he was Mrs. Alexander’s
lover.
The little plotter hurried to Dodo’s room to tell her the news, and
she laughed with her father at his description of Mr. Fuzzier being
a flirt, and having intentions to fall in love with Mrs. Alexander.
But Dodo became serious, when she understood the reason for keeping
her mother so interested in Mr. Dalken and Mr. Fuzzier.
“You’d better run and prepare Dalky and his friend, Daddy, or
they’ll escape. Don’t shock them suddenly, but do it by degrees, if
you want them to survive,” laughed Dodo.
CHAPTER IX
SURPRISES ALL AROUND
Mr. Alexander might have spared his friends the disagreeable part of
playing sweethearts to his wife, because the man who had been at the
hotel when the Dalken party arrived, left there that same day,
without having discovered that the supposed competitors for the
envied tract of land south of Montezumas Castle were right at hand.
But it was not so simple a matter to dispose of Mrs. Alexander’s
yearnings to pretend to be a youthful magnet once more. Having
received such an unusual suggestion from her practical, unromantic
husband, she took full advantage of it—much to Mrs. Courtney’s
disgust and certain pangs of jealousy. Thus the first surprise came
to the three men who had been plotting to evade the man they thought
was in Flagstaff for a secret purpose. Had they known that this same
man was then on his way to Williams, where he had heard the New York
and Chicago financiers were to be, what might have been their
fears—knowing that Algy was lounging about that small town, waiting
for Mrs. Alexander to give him the next cue?
While Mr. Alexander stood grinning at his two associates, after
having confided to them the plan he had evolved to protect their
interests, Jack crossed the room to join them. He saw the
expressions of fierce rebellion upon the faces of Mr. Fuzzier and
Mr. Dalken, but he had no key to the situation then.
“Say, Dalky, it’s pretty late to start for the Castle now, because
there is no comfortable place where we could spend the night, you
see?” asked Jack.
“I don’t care where we go—Alex. has made such a mess of things,”
growled Mr. Dalken.
Mr. Alexander chuckled aloud, then turned to Jack and told of his
wonderful plan to throw dust in the eyes of the supposed Director of
the Copper Company. Jack laughed heartily, when he heard that his
guardian and Mr. Fuzzier were expected to play the roles of romantic
beaux.
Just at this moment Polly came down the stairs, and, seeing the men
standing as though waiting for their friends, she hastened to join
them.
“I left Nolla and Dodo with Mrs. Alexander, who is unusually anxious
to make a good impression upon the gentlemen of our group,”
explained Polly, with an amused laugh at Mr. Dalken.
“Humph!” came from that disgruntled individual.
Then Jack spoke to Polly. “I was just telling Dalky that it was too
late to start for the Cliff Dwellings to-day. We ought to get up
early in the morning and have a full day in which to properly see
the Castle.”
“Yes, but I thought the main object in this trip was to help Dalky
and the other two men to get out of the way of their competitor for
that tract of land? If that is so, we’d better lose no more time,
because I saw that man start off in an automobile just as I was
about to leave my room, before coming down here,” explained Polly.
“By Jingo! Then we’d better be off!” exclaimed Mr. Fuzzier.
“I should say so!” added Mr. Dalken, turning to catch hold of Jack’s
arm. “You run out and see if we can start in a car at once—Mr.
Alexander, Fuzzy and myself. Hustle a good driver into the seat, and
tell him not to wait for anything.”
Without waiting to hear more Jack hurried away to do his guardian’s
bidding, and Polly was left to answer the anxious questions of the
three men. All she could add to her information, however, was of no
consequence to the three speculators.
“Polly, we’ll leave you to explain to the others why we had to rush
away without waiting to say good-by,” said Mr. Dalken, taking Mr.
Fuzzier’s arm, to make him come with him.
“What about our luggage, Dalken?” asked Mr. Alexander, not so
anxious to go away in this fashion.
“Oh! Jack will attend to that. The bags can be taken on to the Grand
Canyon, where we will meet the ladies.”
Thus, before the rejuvenated mother of Dodo could appear to
captivate her two promised admirers, they had vanished from
Flagstaff. Jack saw them off, and then turned to laugh at the whole
plot.
“If we could get rid of Mrs. Alexander as easily as she rid herself
of A. A. A., there might be hopes of enjoying ourselves during the
next few days. But she will be in a dreadful mood when she learns
how her beaux have disappeared.”
Polly laughed, too, because she could picture the consternation of
Dodo’s mother. It would be difficult to make her believe the truth
about the sudden departure of the men, and little Mr. Alexander
would have to bear the brunt of her anger in the long run.
Soon after the automobile carrying the three financiers had rolled
away, Mrs. Alexander “in all her conquering glory” came into the
room where Polly and Jack were wondering how she would receive the
news. She certainly meant business—if one might judge of her
intentions by her costume and make-up. Eleanor and Dodo wisely
remained out of sight of their companions; there would have been a
unanimous scream of laughter, had they met each other’s eyes.
“Well, dearies, here I am, ready to start, when you say the word,”
began Mrs. Alexander, but she looked around quickly for signs of her
promised suitors.
“All right, Mrs. Alex.,” replied Jack suavely, “we are all ready,
too. Come, girls! The car is outside.”
Jack and Polly led the way, and in a short time all were in the
automobile, and the chauffeur was given the word to start.
“But, wait! Where are the gentlemen?” cried Mrs. Alexander.
“Oh! they will not be with us on this short outing. We are going to
drive to the Lowell Observatory this afternoon, and postpone the
trip to Montezumas Castle for to-morrow. You see, such an outing
will need the most of an entire day, if it is to be enjoyable,”
explained Jack, nonchalantly.
“All the same, I don’t see why they couldn’t have come with us,”
complained the lady, sulkily.
Eleanor and Dodo had not heard of the unexpected departure of the
three men, and they were not in the surprise which Polly and Jack
would have to spring upon them later. So they all drove to see the
famous observatory where investigations of the planet Mars were
made. Late that afternoon they returned to the hotel, Jack wondering
how he should tell Mrs. Alexander that her beaux had fled.
Flagstaff, being a popular summer vacation place, was, at this time
of year, quiet and settled for the winter’s rest. Consequently the
tourists might be said to have taken possession of the hotel, since
so few visitors stopped there during the cold season.
Upon arriving at the hotel Mrs. Alexander looked eagerly around for
her husband and his two friends, and Jack seized this opportunity to
inform the dismayed lady of the necessity of their hurried trip.
“Well! Any man that would consider a paltry strip of western land in
preference to a _lady_ isn’t worth wasting my time. Let Ebeneezer
run them off, as I’m sure he did in order to annoy me, but I’ll find
other company, just as good as those two old men!” threatened Mrs.
Alexander, angrily.
Having delivered herself of this ultimatum Dodo’s youthfully dressed
mother turned haughtily away and went up to her room. The other
members in the group were too tired to bother about changing their
motor clothes for the evening, and they decided to have supper,
dressed as they were, and then retire in order to be up early in the
morning for the trip to the Castle cliffs.
Dodo telephoned to her mother’s room to tell her they were waiting
for her to join them in the dining-room, but Mrs. Alexander said she
was having her supper sent to her room. Therefore the young people
and Mrs. Courtney thought no more of the matter, and enjoyed the hot
meal while wondering what the three absent men were doing.
Upon bidding each other good-night, later in the evening, Jack
reminded all that the car would be ready at eight the following
morning.
“We’ll be ready, too, never fear,” returned Mrs. Courtney.
And so they were; but Mrs. Alexander sent word by Dodo that she had
had enough of gazing at blank walls and pretending to go into
raptures over a gaping hole!
“Just like Ma,” added Dodo, having given the message to Jack. “If
that hole, or the wall, was noted for the visits paid by some
personages of fame, she’d camp on the spot in order to say she’d
been one of a party where the princess, or a governor, or some other
big gun was the feature.” Dodo’s disgusted tone and expression told
plainly that she did not favor such pretensions.
“Well, it’s too bad we have to leave Mrs. Alexander alone all day,
but she prefers it to going to the cliffs,” sighed Mrs. Courtney,
starting for the automobile.
“Don’t worry about Ma. She’ll console herself with a yellow novel,”
said Dodo.
Mrs. Courtney did not approve of the manner in which Dodo spoke of
her mother, and she wished the girl would use more consideration in
speaking so disrespectfully of her before Polly and Eleanor, but she
felt that she had no right to advise or correct another woman’s
daughter. And Polly and Eleanor, knowing that Dodo spoke truly about
her mother’s weaknesses, kept silent on what they thought to be
rather blunt statements.
That day was spent in seeing the National Monument of cliffs
situated on Beaver Creek, in the Verde Valley, and by sunset time
they were on their way back to their hotel.
“To-morrow we will visit Humphrey’s Peak,” said Jack, looking at his
trip-book. “I was told that we can get one of the finest views of
any in the west from the top of that peak. The clerk at the hotel
says it is possible, on a clear day, to see over 75,000 square miles
of territory—think of that! Don’t forget your kodaks, girls,
because you’ll want them once you get to the top of the peak.”
“It seems rather risky, Jack, to try to gain the summit of that peak
in this cold weather,” remarked Mrs. Courtney. “The snows will have
made the trails impassable, and the guides may have trouble in
finding the way.”
“Oh, well, we’ll see how high we can climb without losing our way,”
returned Jack, indifferently.
“The auto can carry us part way up the mountain,” added Polly, “and
we can ride horses the rest of the way, if the day is pleasant.”
“That’s what I thought,” explained Jack. “Carry the lunch in the
car, and eat before we start for the climb to the peak. It will be
easy enough to come down again, and then we will be back in the
hotel by dark.”
Mrs. Courtney was not so sure about it all, and she determined to
inquire of the hotel proprietor, if the trip would be absolutely
safe.
When the party of five went to the desk to ask for mail, they were
surprised to hear that Mrs. Alexander had paid her bill and
departed. All the word she left was that she would meet them at the
hotel at Grand Canyon. This news annoyed Dodo, because she felt sure
that her mother had stopped to get Algy at Williams, and would go on
to Grand Canyon without a thought of being misunderstood by others
who knew nothing of her social aspirations. She was gone, however,
and nothing more could be done about it.
Jack and his friends went to sleep that night fully convinced that
Mrs. Alexander had called for Algy, and then gone on to Grand Canyon
with him. And Mr. Dalken, with his two companions, anxious to
forestall the Copper Company by securing options on the great tract
of land south of Montezumas Castle, believed the little hoax Mr.
Alexander had played upon his wife had worked successfully to keep
from their competitors all facts about their launching a new company
to mine the valuable ore from the Verde Valley. Perhaps it was just
as well that no one knew what Mrs. Alexander was doing, and what she
contemplated doing for the next few days.
After leaving the hotel at Flagstaff, Mrs. Alexander had boarded the
train and went as far as Williams. Here, as Dodo had thought, she
expected to find Algy and persuade him to attend her on the way to
the Tovar Hotel at Grand Canyon. But she was destined to have
another disagreeable surprise.
She had not telephoned nor wired Algy that she would arrive that
noon, because she was so sure he would be impatiently waiting for
her. To her dismay, therefore, she found that a Mr. Dunlap had been
at the hotel for a few days and had struck up a sudden friendship
with young Alveston. Then Algy, dissatisfied with his lonesome life
at Williams, swallowed the tempting bait held out to him by the wily
promoter. When Mr. Dunlap proposed that the young man be his guest
upon a little side trip to an interesting point which he was about
to visit, Algy hailed the invitation as a godsend. Consequently the
two started off in a luxurious limousine at about the same time that
Jack and his party left the hotel at Flagstaff for Montezumas
Castle.
Because of this acceptance of the invitation, Algy was not to be
found when Mrs. Alexander arrived. The man who owned the hotel at
Williams, where Algy had stopped, knew only that the trunks had been
sent on to Grand Canyon, and that the young man had driven away in
another man’s car.
“I’m sure they went on to Grand Canyon, so I’ll take the next train
from here. What time will I get there?” said Mrs. Alexander, having
to hide her annoyance, since no one was present upon whom she dared
vent her anger.
“You’ll have to wait around here for several hours, Ma’am, as there
will be no train until four this afternoon. You’ll get to Grand
Canyon in time for supper,” explained the man, politely.
“Dear me! And there’s nothing for me to do here, is there?” she
exclaimed, impatiently.
“Well, that depends on what you like to do. Now, we-all find so much
to do, every day, that the days are too short for us,” laughed the
man.
“I suppose everybody—that is every one worth while, goes right
through to Grand Canyon, so Williams never sees society people,”
remarked Mrs. Alexander, with a superior air, calculated to impress
this mere nobody of a man.
“Sometimes society persons find themselves stranded here,” chuckled
the man, who cared naught for this lady’s hoity-toity manners.
“There happens to be such a man, right this minute—just as mad at
being delayed in his plans, as you can be. He’s said to be some
punkins back in Chicago, where he’s a big lawyer.”
“Oh, really! Who is he?” asked Mrs. Alexander, finding life might be
bearable in Williams.
“Why, he’s the Executor of the White Ranch, down Verde Valley way.
He is said to reckon his income with seven figures to the left of
the decimal!”
“I do not think I am acquainted with him, though I have met so many
millionaires lately that he may be one of them,” mused Mrs.
Alexander, seeming to be trying to recollect.
“Reckon you haven’t met this one,” continued her informer. “He only
left the ranch yesterday, and must have expected to meet some
arrivals in this town to-day. They didn’t arrive, and now he’s got
to stay over and do some waiting, I’m told. If you happened to know
him, it would help kill time for you.”
“That would be very pleasant for me, but he is not around, and I’ll
be going on to Grand Canyon in a few hours’ time.”
“You must have struck a lucky day, Ma’am, for here comes Mr.
Belnord—the man I was just telling you about. He’s strolling across
the verandah this minute, as though he wanted to kill time. He’ll
ask me if there is any telegrams or ‘phone messages in another
moment,” whispered the gossipy clerk.
Mrs. Alexander knew the man to be a stranger, but she made up her
mind to get acquainted with a millionaire who might be looking for a
companion to wile away wearisome hours. Hence she planned quickly.
“Oh, yes! I met him in ——” exclaimed she.
Just as the frowning gentleman reached the desk to address the
clerk, the lady who was standing there dropped her costly handbag.
Naturally the newcomer picked it up and bowed politely as he
returned it to the owner.
“Oh, thank you,” said Mrs. Alexander in a demure tone. Then in a
surprised way, held out a daintily gloved hand, as she exclaimed
gladly: “Why! If it isn’t Mr. Belnord! To think of meeting you in
this out-of-the-way spot. The last time I saw you was over a year
ago, at a fête in Chicago.”
She acted the part of a delighted old friend to perfection, and Mr.
Belnord, chagrined that he could not place so charming a lady,
accepted her word for it and kept rummaging through the memory cells
of his brain for a possible clue to her identity.
They shook hands like old friends, and Mrs. Alexander began to
rattle off her complaints against a railroad that failed to run a
train to Grand Canyon to accommodate her. Then she added naively:
“My father, Mr. Alexander, and my younger sister, Dorothy, were to
have met me here to-day, but I suppose they went on with Mr. Dalken
and Mr. Fuzzier to visit the cliffs of the Verde Valley. I am weary
of so many side-trips, and I decided to meet them here. Do you
remember my sister, Mr. Belnord?”
“No, Miss Alexander, I’m ashamed to say I do not. I remember I saw
nothing but you, when you were present, remember,” replied the
gallant gentleman of forty years. “But Fate has been more than kind
to me to-day in giving me an opportunity to amuse you while you are
delayed by the wretched train service.”
Mrs. Alexander managed to hold back a smile of gratification at the
success of her little trick, and Mr. Belnord considered himself very
clever in learning the lady’s name with so little trouble. But he
also caught the names of the three men he had cause to chase,—and
the very three he was waiting in Williams to meet—if the estate
agent, Dunlap, was to be trusted. It now behooved him to find out
all he could from this talkative woman, who evidently had reached
the spinster’s age of garrulity.
The two walked slowly away from the desk, and sought the comfortable
easy chairs in the parlor. Here Mrs. Alexander proceeded to
captivate her new admirer, being wary to steer clear of reefs
whenever the conversation seemed to turn to their former friendship.
But Mr. Belnord cared naught about former or future friendships—he
was anxious to learn about the present plans of certain men this
lady knew, and so, before she boarded her train for Grand Canyon,
where she expected to find Algy, he had found out all he needed to
know for the present.
CHAPTER X
HOLD-UPS ALONG THE WAY
The three men, Mr. Dalken, Mr. Fuzzier and Mr. Alexander, having
been fortunate enough to secure an experienced driver of their car,
now began to notice the scenery along the road to Montezumas Castle.
“I’m sorry we had to run away without the girls. How pleasant it
would have been to hear their exclamations and delight at these
wonderful cliffs,” remarked Mr. Dalken.
“You-all wouldn’t have had much chance to listen to the gals,
because my missus would demand all your attention, onct she knew she
could count on you-all fer beaux,” chuckled Mr. Alexander.
“Well, then, it is our lucky day that we got away as we did,”
retorted the shy bachelor, Mr. Fuzzier.
“I wonder what she will do when she finds out how we escaped?” mused
the lady’s husband.
“Ten to one she will be after us!” laughed Mr. Dalken.
The road was not in good condition, and the three men had not
examined the car before engaging it for this hard trip, therefore
they were not aware that the tires were badly worn. As the road
became rock and rutty, however, Mr. Dalken spoke to his companions.
“Seems to me the tires are not as hard as they might be,” said he.
“The one on my side, rear, feels as though it were flat, or about to
be so,” added Mr. Fuzzier.
Mr. Alexander opened the door to have a backward glance at the
doubtful tire. At the time he opened the door the car was just
running through a mass of gravel-covered road, and the wheels flung
the pebbles up with great force. One exceptionally large stone was
whirled and thrown backwards as from a sling-shot. It struck Mr.
Alexander square between the eyes with such velocity that he
crumpled back in the automobile as though shot. The only sound he
made was a grunt as he fell.
“Great Scott! What’s the matter, Alex.?” cried Mr. Fuzzier, who sat
on that side of the car. But he received no reply. “Not a drop of
anything on hand to revive him!” muttered Mr. Dalken, banging upon
the glass in front to attract the chauffeur’s attention.
The driver turned to see what was wanted of him, and at that moment
the car swerved the fraction of an inch. But that fraction was quite
enough to cause the wheels on one side to run into a deep rut. This
hard jolt sent all three men together in a heap. Poor Mr. Alexander
happened to be underneath, and Mr. Fuzzier on top. Mr. Dalken, being
between both, received no hurt, but Mr. Fuzzier struck his head
against the closed door, and soon a great swelling rose there and
closed his left eye. Mr. Alexander, being unconscious, could not
swear or complain against his tough luck of being the under one.
Mr. Dalken now lost all patience, because of fear of what had
happened to his companion and with this last mishap. He discovered
then, that he had not forgotten how to curse politely, and, once
started, it seemed as though he would never stop. Even Mr. Fuzzier,
with his head aching and throbbing like mad, and deeply concerned as
he was about Mr. Alexander, had to laugh.
The chauffeur sprang from his seat and rushed to that side of the
car which was down in the rut. Instead of coming to the help of his
passengers, he began to look around for a visible means of getting
the wheels up out of the mire.
“You dolt! come here, won’t you?” shouted Mr. Dalken.
“Got anything we could use to help restore consciousness to this
man?” demanded Mr. Fuzzier, shaking a fist at the driver.
Then the chauffeur found that one of his passengers had been
seriously injured, and he immediately feared they might hold him
responsible, because he thought it was due to his accident in
driving. He sprang upon the runningboard and peered in at the
crumpled little man, with fear plainly expressed in his eyes.
“Don’t stand there like a mummy!” called Mr. Dalken, “but open that
door and help us lift the man out of this.”
Thus admonished, the chauffeur did as he was bidden, and, in a few
moments, Mr. Alexander had been taken from the car and carefully
placed upon the bad road.
“I hope, sir, the gentleman hasn’t broken his neck, sir!” whispered
the driver, trembling in fear.
“If he hasn’t, it isn’t because of your careful driving!” snarled
Mr. Fuzzier, the swelling beginning to rise to the size of an egg.
At this moment the man discussed sighed heavily, and in another few
moments he opened his eyes and blinked dazedly at the blinding blue
sky overhead. At the same time, the three men, all anxious to help
their unfortunate companion, started suddenly to stoop over his
prostrate form and offer assistance to him.
What must be the natural result of having two men upon opposite
sides of little Mr. Alexander, unexpectedly bend far over the form
between them? Mr. Dalken and the chauffeur could tell any one after
that just what did happen. But the collision of the two heads seemed
to do more damage to Mr. Dalken’s forehead than to that of the other
man. Perhaps this was due to the fact that the chauffeur was a
hardened young man, while the New Yorker was soft from luxurious
living. Anyway, without going into the cause, it remained plainly
evident that both men, thereafter, bore the marks of the collision.
The driver’s head showed a great bluish lump, and Mr. Dalken’s
eyebrow raised up and caused an enormous swelling above the eye so
that it seemed impossible for the skin to stand more stretching
without a break.
Mr. Alexander now sat up and stared around. He saw two men glaring
at each other as though they would like to strangle each other; and
the third man stood with mouth open, watching the other two. He was
entirely forgotten—or to be exact, he was _overlooked_ in this
interesting scene.
“By the Great Horned Spoon! I got’a turrible smack on the head!”
exclaimed Mr. Alexander, lifting a hand to feel of the injured spot.
“You’ve got more than a smack there, old man,” retorted Mr. Fuzzier,
placing a hand under each arm and helping his friend to scramble to
his feet. “You’ve got a lump about the size of a football, that
will mar your beauty, all right!”
“But, say, Fuzzy!” gasped Mr. Alexander, in amazement, as he stared
at the man addressed, “what struck you, when the gravel flew? You
ain’t such a prize-winner in our beauty contest, either.”
That made Mr. Fuzzier roar with appreciation of the truth, and in
another moment all four men were laughing as though they had just
heard the funniest joke ever told.
“If we needed any disguises to-day, to keep those competitors from
recognizing us, we found them all right!” exclaimed Mr. Dalken,
feeling gently of the awful lump over his eye.
“Had any one told me this yarn—of how four men got swelled heads
over nothin’ more’n a bit of gravel in the road, I’d say, ‘come off
your perch, Mr. Lawyer!’” laughed Mr. Alexander.
“If I look half as fetching as you do, Dalky,” remarked Mr. Fuzzier,
“I’d wear a mask. You’ll frighten away the jack-rabbits, I fear.”
“All right, Fuzzy. Tell the chauffeur to find us four masks—there
is little choice between us, so far as looks go!” was Mr. Dalken’s
reply.
“If you gentlemen expeck to get to that cabin south of Sedona
to-day, we’d better hoist this machine out’n the rut, and get
along,” advised the driver of the car.
“Hoist! What can we hoist with?” demanded Mr. Dalken.
“Reckon we got’a put our shoulders to the wheel,” grinned the man.
“I’ll git under the wust end and jack the car, somewhat.”
Mr. Alexander had recovered sufficiently from the blow of the stone
to help with his hardened muscles. After much puffing and straining
of the four men, the automobile was pushed and pulled out of the
ditch. Then they got in again, and the driver started the engine.
“I was remarking, not so long ago, that I wish the girls might have
been with us,” was Mr. Dalken’s smiling remark. “Now I am thankful
that only four heads were batted in this ball game. If there had
been more of us, there would have been more aching heads.”
“Umph!” grunted Mr. Alexander, “I might’ve said how my blow came as
punishment for my foolin’ the missus. But that wouldn’t account fer
your heads!”
“No, it’s one of those strange freaks of nature—to have four men
traveling together, and each one bearing upon their foreheads the
mark of a misspent life,” laughed Mr. Fuzzier.
“Why not quote Scripture, Fuzzy, and say ‘the mark of the beast,’”
added Mr. Dalken.
“Because I must confess that I’ve forgotten all that I ever knew of
my Bible.” Then, as an afterthought, he added: “But tell me,
Dalky—how is it that you can remember so well, since your Sunday
School days?”
Mr. Dalken returned the quizzical look, and replied: “I may not look
it, but I will admit that I often find time to go to church, and
more times than I will tell you or the world, I find a verse or a
bit of advice in the Bible that does me a lot of good. Men of Big
Business can’t afford to overlook the Science to be had by referring
to the Holy Book.”
“Well! I’ll be doggoned! If you aren’t the last man I ever expected
to hear that from!” exclaimed Mr. Alexander.
Thereafter the subject was suddenly changed, and Mr. Fuzzier spoke
of the prospects of reaching the ranch, whence they were bound, in
time to take advantage of the Copper Company.
No unforeseen accidents occurred until after they passed Montezumas
Castle, though the leaking tires caused many delays in order to have
them pumped full of air. The road was not constructed of
rose-leaves, either, and the jarring and jolting of soft tires over
rocks and ruts made sore heads ache fearfully.
The unfamiliar appearances of the men with the black and blue eyes,
and the unusual excrescences upon the foreheads, caused frequent
roars of laughter from one or the other of the three men. And the
chauffeur came in for not a little of the ridicule because of one
prominent cheek-bone and half-closed eye.
The road from the Cliffs, where the Castle is located, goes westerly
as far as Clarkdale. Sedona, where the three speculators hoped to be
before dark, was located several miles from this road, about half
the distance between Clarkdale and the Cliffs.
The chauffeur, having had a painful lesson about careful driving,
decided it would be wiser to halt long enough at the Cliffs to
change the leaking tire, than to continue on and stop now and then
to pump it full of air. This took time, but the men assisted in
every way possible in order to gain time.
Once more they were traveling along the road which runs to
Clarkdale, and hopes were in the ascendant that Sedona would be
reached by sundown. Very few travelers were met that day, and when,
just before turning off the main road, to reach Sedona, a very fine
automobile was spied, like a tiny dot, coming from the opposite
direction, it attracted general attention.
The two cars turned into the Sedona road with but a few minutes’
difference in time—Mr. Dalken’s car led, however. As the chauffeur
found a good bit of road ahead, he turned and spoke through the tube
at his side.
“I know the driver of that car, sir. He comes from Williams, and has
been down to Flagstaff twice this past ten days. He had a man from
Prescott, who’s been looking out for some men to arrive from
Chicago, but they didn’t show up. I reckon Mr. Dunlap got tired of
waiting around, and is on his way back to the ranch where he hopes
to make a clean-up.”
“Do you know the man called Dunlap?” asked Mr. Dalken, giving his
friends a silencing look, when they would have exclaimed at the
surprising information just heard from their chauffeur.
“Only from hearsay. Jim—that’s the owner of that rear car—says
he’s very flush with his coin, and hired the car for a week. I saw
the man at Flagstaff the last time he waited there for the men he
expected.”
“Did Jim hear who the men were—the ones that didn’t show up?” asked
Mr. Dalken, trying hard to keep the eagerness out of his tones as he
spoke.
“No; but I overheard him ask the agent at the railway station if he
was quite certain that three men did not come from Chicago and get
off at Flagstaff. And the agent said he was sure! He also told
Dunlap that the only men to arrive at Flagstaff in the week, were
three from Ash Fork, but they were not millionaires, because they
were dressed like any other hard-working chaps—not a diamond or
spare penny to be seen.”
“You seem to be an observing young man, chauffeur,” ventured Mr.
Fuzzier.
“It pays to observe sometimes—specially when things are humming
right under one’s nose. Now I observed that you three men came from
Ash Fork, but I should not say you were hard-working men—that is,
with your hands. Your brains might work hard. I’ve done a little
amateur detective work now and then, and I’ve enjoyed it. If I had
to keep my comings and going dark, and should folks keep tabs on my
movements from Chicago on to a certain spot in Arizona, I’d buy a
ticket to Ash Fork and then back-trail to Flagstaff—as you three
men have done this time. Am I right?”
His three passengers laughed outright; then Mr. Dalken replied: “You
have over-stepped the line, young man. We did come from Ash Fork, as
you noticed, but we had no movements to keep dark. In fact, we
traveled with a gay and noisy party of young people, and stopped at
every town along the Sante Fé where there were sights to be seen, or
places to be visited. So, you see, it is merely a coincidence that
there are three of us, and your man Dunlap had been expecting three
men, also. Besides I am from New York, and Mr. Alexander is from
Denver, so there is another count gone wrong.”
“What’s your name, driver?” now asked Mr. Fuzzier, taking a pen and
address book from his pocket.
“I’m Bill Beldon, a native of Gallup, but doin’ business in
Flagstaff. It’s busy there in the summer season.”
“Well, Beldon, I’m going to confide a little secret to you and
surprise my friends here at the same time. If I make it worth your
while to help me out of this fix, and keep your lips sealed about
what you see or hear, will you stand by me?” Mr. Fuzzier winked at
his two companions for silence, and Bill Beldon was instantly
interested in this new development of what he considered a fine case
for a detective.
“All right, Beldon. I’ll take your word, in front of these two
witnesses, to be as good as a bond. Now, gentlemen, prepare for the
surprise: I’m one of those men from Chicago, but the other two did
not come. And I’m the man the agent Dunlap is after, but I do not
wish him to catch up with me. Now, then, if Beldon can step on the
gas and get us to our destination half an hour or so before Jim gets
there, I’ll make it well worth his efforts.”
“By the Great Horned Spoon!” exclaimed Mr. Alexander, winking at a
great rate, as he tried to make his voice sound full of surprise at
what he had just heard.
“You are the closest mouthed man for a friend that I ever had,”
added Mr. Dalken. “You never told me a word of this secret.”
“Why should I? I wouldn’t have told you now, only Beldon has shown
me that it is best to confide in the three of you. Well, Bill,
what’s your answer?” laughed Mr. Fuzzier.
“Oh, I’m your man, all right! I’ll sign my name to a paper if you
can manage to draw it up whiles this car is jogging over the road,”
exclaimed Beldon, eagerly.
“Look behind us, Dalken, and see how far away that other car is?”
advised Mr. Fuzzier. “And, Alex., you get out the box of lunch we
had packed for the girls—I grabbed it up and shoved it under the
seat, when it was decided that we start at once for the ranch.”
Mr. Dalken did as he was requested, but his report quickly drove all
thoughts of lunch from their minds. “That other car has caught up
with us—it is not more than twenty feet behind this one.”
Then Mr. Fuzzier caught the tube and spoke to Beldon: “If you let
that other car pass you, Bill, you don’t get a cent. I’m a fine
friend, but I’m a nasty enemy. Now get busy and keep that friend of
yours in the rear—better still, get speed up and run away from him.
I’d even bail you out of jail if you cracked the tires on that rear
car. Understand how important this thing is?”
“I sure do! And Jim can’t go back and say he made me take his
gasoline smoke!” retorted Beldon, starting off at high speed, the
moment a good bit of road was found.
Between Mr. Dalken and Mr. Fuzzier, the rear car was kept constantly
in sight—now it drew nearer, then Beldon forged ahead; then the
rear car would drop back, because the leading car would gain a long
lap in the race. But the end was not yet, since Dunlap was not the
man to lose out in a speculative deal whereby he had hoped to
profit. He now knew from Algy that the three men he had been
expecting had arrived in Flagstaff, but they had not registered at
the hotel, as he had thought they would do. He cursed himself for
thinking that three millionaires would travel to Arizona to inspect
a mining property, and wear clothes or gems to advertise their
wealth. He should have known better, he thought.
Another thing that Dunlap had done, which had been a brilliant idea,
was inviting the insignificant little heir of a fortune to tour with
him. Algy had accepted gladly, but he had no idea of the tortures he
would have to endure while on that trip. He had looked for a
comfortable, enjoyable drive along fine state roads. Instead, he was
compelled to endure jolts and jars that shook his frail little form
as it had not been shaken since his heavy-handed father had died.
Puny Algy did not like this method of traveling, but he had to go
on, because Mr. Dunlap declared he could not turn back, nor was
there any way Algy could reach a house or hamlet until the end of
the journey.
Dunlap had no intention of letting this member of the Dalken party
slip from his grasp, so he stood Algy’s whimperings, and tried to
soothe his plaintive begging to be sent back to dear Mrs. Alexander!
CHAPTER XI
WHAT HAPPENED ON HUMPHREY’S PEAK
Jack’s party drove to Humphrey’s Peak as had been planned, and there
they found that the automobile road leading part way up the mountain
was in splendid condition. Therefore they decided to try to reach
the peak, and get the marvelous view from the summit.
All went well while the good road continued, but once they got to
the place where it became necessary to leave the car and take to
horses, it was not quite comfortable. The guide thought they were
taking chances against the weather—it had been cloudy all morning
and the weather bureau had prophesied flurries of snow during the
day.
“A little snow won’t melt us hardened tourists!” exclaimed Eleanor,
laughingly.
“Not after one has lived through Flat Top blizzards,” added Polly,
springing into the saddle on the horse she was to ride.
“That’s all right, miss, but October is the latest month the guides
think safe for folks to try for the peak. If you-all insist upon
going up, I can take you, but it must be at your own risk,
remember,” explained the man.
“The weather has been unusually warm and open,” said Jack,
coaxingly, “and we are sure there is no risk to take.”
“The guide ought to know his territory better than we do, Jack,”
argued Mrs. Courtney, troubled at what would be best to do.
“Oh, come on, folks!” commanded Dodo, impatiently.
“Yes, do come on, or the day will pass in arguing,” abetted Jack,
jumping into the saddle.
“Well, if you-all will promise me not to go beyond the zone which I
think safe and will agree to turn and come back the moment I signify
the return, I’ll take you,” finally agreed the guide.
“Don’t you do it, if there is any unusual risk,” begged Mrs.
Courtney, anxiously.
“No, I won’t! If the young people will promise me that, it will be
perfectly safe,” returned the man.
Being so eager to start for the climb, the four younger members of
the group promised instantly. And off they started.
The altitude of Humphrey’s Peak is 12,750 feet, and the approach to
the summit is made over a gradually ascending road and trail made
through mighty forests of pine. Aspens grow in thick profusion here
and there—so thick, indeed, that one could not thread a way between
the trunks without chopping away the obstruction. Reaching timber
line, however, nothing grows beyond to hide the bare crags which
continue on up to the very summit.
On the ride through the magnificent forest the guide told of the
extensive view to be had from the peak—directly north, fifty miles
away, one could see the walls of the Grand Canyon; still farther,
were the Buckskin Mountains of the Kaibab Plateau; to the north-east
one might see the Painted Desert, and beyond that the Navajo
Mountain. Then, turning southward, one could see the White
Mountains; and, gazing westward, one saw the Mogollon Plateau and
other famous ranges. The Santa Fé railroad threaded the valley east
and west like a winding serpent with head and tail hidden from
sight. Small towns and settlements dotted the country, and gave the
necessary action to the wonderful picture.
“But I doubt if you will see these sights to-day, friends,”
concluded the guide. “If you reach timberline without freezing in
the saddle, you will do well.”
“I’m sure you do not appreciate our hardihood,” declared Polly
impatiently. “I was brought up in the Rocky Mountains, near the
highest peaks, and I am accustomed to this life.”
“You forget, Polly, that several years in New York City, in
steam-heated houses, and the enervating life we live there, may have
changed your hardihood,” remarked Mrs. Courtney, gently.
“Oh, well! that remains to be seen,” retorted Polly.
Nothing more was said about the hazards to be met on the way, and
thereafter every one felt buoyant and happy, because of the delight
in riding good horses and the exhilarating air of the mountains.
Up and up and up climbed the well-trained horses, and finally the
guide called a halt to rest the beasts. The riders leaped from the
saddles and stretched their legs and arms for a time, then walked
around to investigate the plateau. Only a few minutes were allowed
for the rest, then the guide called them to re-mount. As they ran to
obey, Jack thought he saw a snowflake whirl across his vision. But
he would not report it.
By the time all were ready to resume the ride, Jack was sure he saw
another flake of snow falling slowly upon the horn of his saddle,
still he would not speak of it.
But the guide had noticed the few scattered bits of snow, and he was
determined to take no chances with his party. He led the way to a
crosstrail on the mountain-side, and took the side trail instead of
the one which ascended directly ahead of the riders. He planned to
follow this gradually ascending road for a time, and, should the
flurry of snow prove nothing more, he could regain the main trail
farther on where another crosstrail struck upward. In case the snow
came down heavier, and threatened to continue, he could lead his
party back down the mountain from that crosstrail.
But a careful guide’s plans may go astray, even like the wise mice
in the fable, and so it happened with Job Barnes.
The pines were noticeably shorter and more slender as the trail
ascended higher and higher, and it was also seen that the trees
looked tougher and many of them bore scars left by the winter
storms. Many were twisted and their tops blunted from the fierce
gales and blizzards which swept like cyclones over the peaks. But
the trail continued good and interesting, and the little cavalcade
rode on with many a merry jest and carefree laugh.
Finally they entered a thick forest of aspens through which the
trail accommodated no more than one horse at a time. It was after
riding halfway through the length of this forest, that a sudden gale
of wind came down from the peaks, and with it came a great cloud of
snow. Instantly the air became choked with fine snow, and the
temperature dropped suddenly so that every one in the party began to
shiver and shake. The horses, rebelling against going on in the face
of this cold blizzard, balked, but they could not turn in the narrow
tunnel between the aspens.
Fortunately the guide rode first, and Jack brought up the rear, so
that the horses of the girls could not back nor forge ahead in order
to get away from where they were.
“What shall we do?” shouted Jack, to get orders from the guide.
“Wait for a few moments and see if she blows over.”
So they all sat as though frozen to the saddles, while the guide
tied a rope to the horn of his saddle and then jumped from his horse
and carried the rope back to tie a loop to each saddle in the line
behind his horse. When Jack’s horse, the last one, had been thus
hitched up in line, the guide advised him.
“Don’t let your horse balk or stampede. Use your spurs, if
necessary, to control him. We’re near a nasty bit of road that runs
along the rim of a rocky ravine, and I’d like to keep this side of
it if I can manage the animals so they will move slowly. I might
have to chop down enough aspens to allow the horses to turn, so we
can ride back the way we came, but chopping trees takes time, and I
brought but one axe.”
“Oh, we’ll be all right,” was Jack’s assurance. “Just go on
carefully, and warn us when we reach the gulch.”
Another ten minutes was given to a slow progress along the narrow
trail, and, then, the storm growing heavier, the guide decided to
dismount and begin to cut down enough aspens to permit a turn in the
trail. As he jumped down, however, his feet became entangled in some
way in the rope which he had tied to his saddle, and he fell. His
foot struck upon a slippery projection of rock, and, turning over,
down he crashed with a groan, bringing his heavy weight upon the
twisted member.
The full import of this accident did not filter into the brains of
the other riders for a second; then Jack saw the guide slump in a
heap and he knew the man had fainted in spite of his endeavors to
remain conscious.
“Great Scott! Barnes is knocked out! He must have hurt himself
seriously!” cried Jack, springing from his saddle.
Polly was so experienced in handling situations of this nature that
she quickly got down from her horse and hurried to the side of the
injured guide. Before Jack could lift Barnes’ head, Polly was beside
him and had placed a restraining hand upon his arm.
“Just make him as comfortable upon the ground as possible, Jack, and
then help me straighten out his leg. Perhaps it is not badly hurt,”
advised she.
Thus, while the other three riders waited anxiously, watching from
their horses, Jack and Polly helped the guide to a more natural
position, and Jack fumbled for a possible flask of whiskey in the
man’s pockets.
Polly began to unlace the leather legging and heavy mountaineer’s
boot, but her fingers were so stiff with cold that she could not
undo the wet laces. Jack had found a flask, and, pouring the cup-top
on the bottle full of brandy, tried to force some between the lips
of the man.
Not more than five minutes had passed since the guide had first
leaped from his saddle, but in that time the snow had fallen so
heavily that everything was covered with a white blanket. And the
gale increased in velocity so that it blew the snow in every
direction, and seemed to drive it under the riding clothes of the
stylishly clad tourists.
After a second attempt to get some brandy down the throat of the
guide, Jack succeeded and was repaid by seeing the eyelids twitch
and slowly lift. Then the man became conscious all at once, and sat
up, though he did not move his foot—it seemed limp.
“What a fix!” exclaimed Barnes, in disgust with himself. “A broken
bone, and out here in this blizzard!”
“That’s all right, Barnes—I’ll cut down the aspens for you, and
Polly, with the other girls, will drag them out of the way. The work
will keep us from freezing,” said Jack, cheerily.
“Don’t forget me,” called Mrs. Courtney, trying to act as cheery as
Jack.
“If you only knew how to manage it, you ought to throw the blankets
over the animals, or we may not have them fit to carry us back to
the cabins,” suggested the guide.
“We _do_ know how to do it,” replied Dodo. “I was brought up in
Colorado, and Polly knows enough about horses to break the worst
broncho. Jack, too, has been on the ranch. Just watch us.”
So saying, Dodo jumped from her saddle, and Eleanor managed to slide
out of hers. It took Mrs. Courtney longer to dismount, as she had
become so cold and stiff.
The three,—Jack, Polly and Dodo,—then began to remove the saddles
that they might pull off the blankets which were strapped under
them. This done, they started to rearrange the blankets in order to
cover the quaking horses.
“Jack, you better get busy chopping the aspens, because Dodo and I
can blanket the animals,” suggested Polly.
“Good! Hand me the axe from Barnes’ side,” returned Jack, turning to
the man who was trying to get upon one foot and assist the girls.
“You just sit still, Barnes—or you’ll have a compound fracture.
We’ll get this straightened out in a jiffy,” said Jack. Then he took
the axe and began to whack at the nearest aspen. It was one directly
ahead of Barnes’ horse, and Jack figured logically that cutting down
the few ahead of the horses would make it easier for them to turn,
because the leader could step in and go around the narrow turn he
proposed making. Then they would face the opposite direction from
the one in which they now stood.
Polly and Dodo had blanketed three horses, and all three girls were
engaged with the others, when Jack whacked a hard blow at the tree
he was felling. The axe struck sideways, and a long sharp chip flew
up and scuttled horizontally through the air. It struck the leading
horse directly between the eyes, and that poor beast, already
frightened by the blasts of howling wind which bore such cold sheets
of sleet and snow into his face and chest, leaped up on his hind
legs. In a second, he came pounding down again, and then started off
along the trail, pulling the other horses in his wake.
The three girls were so frightened at what had happened that they
were incapable of moving for a moment; consequently Eleanor was
thrown against an aspen with such force that she had the breath
knocked out of her. Polly had been half over the back of one horse,
in order to work a blanket down to the other side, and she was
carried along while clinging desperately to the mane of the beast
she was upon. Dodo was flat in a snow-drift.
[Illustration: POLLY WAS CARRIED ALONG CLINGING DESPERATELY TO THE
HORSE’S MANE.]
Mrs. Courtney had been attending to Barnes’ injured foot, and now
she sprang up and called aloud in sudden fear. “Polly!”
Jack left the axe where he had dropped it and started off hot-footed
to catch up with the escaping animals. The snow impeded the hoofs of
the leading horse, and he soon found that running away in the teeth
of a blizzard was not the fun it was in town, when he began to cut
capers for amusement to those around. He had not galloped more than
a hundred yards before he began to breathe hard. The high altitude
had a lot to do with this, too, but the beast knew nothing of
altitudes. In the length of a few more yards he was glad enough to
halt and try to catch his breath. This, naturally, stopped the other
horses that were being dragged willynilly at the heels of their
leader.
Jack ploughed through the broken snow as fast as he could lift his
feet out of the clinging drifts, and after a hard sprint he caught
up to the sweating animals. But now! how to turn them about? That
was another problem, and he gazed in despair at the closely standing
aspens which lined the sides of the trail.
Polly made a horn of her cupped hands and shouted at him. “Only one
thing to do, Jack, and that is—cut down the aspens over there,
instead of here. We’ll have to come and help you, and leave Mrs.
Courtney with the guide; we’ll pick them up after we get the horses
turned about.”
Jack signified he had understood, and then, holding fast to the
bridle of the leading animal, he waited until Polly brought the axe.
The other girls followed in Polly’s tracks, and, after a tiresome
hike, they all went to work to remove the obstructing aspens. Jack
now wielded the axe, with a zeal he had been unconscious of
possessing, and the three girls worked in breaking down the younger
growth of trees and throwing them back upon the trodden trail; since
they would not return that way, but would lead the horses about the
short turn they were making through the woods, it made little
difference.
No one stopped to eat, though all were half-famished and
half-frozen, as well. Mrs. Courtney tried to keep Barnes from being
chilled, by helping him hop around upon one leg, keeping the injured
one free from the ground. As Barnes was a heavy young man, and he
had to lean upon his companion for support, she was thoroughly tired
out by the time the horses were successfully led back through the
narrow cleft made in the aspens. In fact, so narrow was it that many
a tree-trunk scraped the sides of the horses as they were pulled and
pushed and urged to go along to gain the good, though narrow, trail
ahead.
This much was successfully accomplished at last, and the young
people, who had had to chop and break down the aspens in order to
get the horses turned about, heaved a sigh of gratitude when they
halted the animals beside the guide.
“Now, our next job will be to hoist Barnes into his saddle,”
remarked Jack.
“That is not a difficult thing to do, because I know how to help
myself under all unexpected circumstances,” was the cheery reply
from the guide. As he spoke, he hopped over to his horse’s side and
caught hold of the saddle. At that moment a ray of sun burst through
the black snow-clouds and glinted upon the winking eyes of the group
of surprised riders.
“Well! can you beat that for contrariness?” cried Polly, glancing
angrily up at the breaking storm-clouds.
“Just as we’ve finished our hard labor, to find the blizzard isn’t
going to blizz any more!” laughed Eleanor, whimsically.
“If the sun comes out eventually, what are we going to do—go on or
turn back?” asked Dodo.
“Oh, we can’t go on with Mr. Barnes in this condition. We must
return as quickly as possible and see that he has surgical
attention,” declared Mrs. Courtney.
“Well, it is a great disappointment, not to see the view we were led
to expect from the summit of the peak, but I am so tired out with
shoveling snow, and with removing trees from this forest, that I’m
just as well pleased if we get back to Flagstaff and can roll over
into a warm bed,” was Polly’s verdict.
“Reckon you’re right, Poll!” agreed Jack, as he sprang up into his
saddle.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in carefully riding back to the
cabins where the guides lived while the trails remained open. Here
the old mountaineer who did the cooking for the men during the
season, soon had steaming coffee, with bacon and eggs, ready to
serve.
The girls would not have believed how good greasy eggs fried in
bacon fat could taste, until that afternoon. Jack commented upon the
evident relish with which they ate whatever was placed before them.
“No wonder!” laughed Polly, seeking carefully for the last crumb of
black bread, “wood-cutters always come in after a hard day’s work,
with appetites like ravening wolves.”
“That’s us!” declared Dodo, ungrammatically. Then she smacked her
lips with relish over the coffee, while her companions laughed.
Poor Barnes had the worst of that ride, for the small bones of his
ankle had been fractured and he would have to keep it in splints for
a long time, if he would have it knit well and be as good as ever.
But this accident proved to be beneficial for future riders up
Humphrey Mountain, for the trail was ordered to be made wider and
kept open and clear to protect man and beast in the future.
That evening, at the hotel, Polly remarked to her friends: “One
place on the map that we won’t see this trip!”
“I’m not grieving,” laughed Jack. “I’ve seen all of that peak I ever
care to.”
“Um! I’m with Jack in that sentiment,” added Eleanor.
“‘Them’s all our sentiments, too!’” giggled Dodo.
CHAPTER XII
TWO WEEKS LATER
Jack managed to escort his friends to all the other places of
interest which they had decided to visit, and then, having heard
from Mr. Dalken and his two companions that they were not to wait
for them, the five members of the party at Flagstaff decided to go
on to Grand Canyon, where they expected to meet Mrs. Alexander and
Algy.
They heard from Mr. Barnes the last day of their stay in Flagstaff,
and were pleased to learn that he was recovering quickly from his
injury. Then they bid the hotel people good-by and started for Grand
Canyon. They arrived at a time of year when few tourists think of
visiting Arizona and its wonders. But they found that the first of
December was the most wonderful of all seasons in the year to see
the Canyon and the surrounding scenery. It beggared all attempts at
description, when the snow flurried over the great abyss, or the sun
reflected a million points of colored lights from the icy crags and
the frozen drips of water!
Mrs. Alexander, during the interval she had spent alone at El Tovar,
had wearied herself with showing off all the costumes she had
brought in her trunks; also she had had a most glorious time in
smiling engagingly at every man who had registered at the hotel. It
made no difference to this rejuvenated lady whether the male guests
were young, or middle-aged, or decrepit—her attentions were
bestowed alike with impartiality.
It had, therefore, become a standing joke with the hotel employees
whenever a newcomer made his appearance, to wager just what he might
do to escape the flirtatious lady. But no member on that staff
dreamed that the lady was the wife of the plain, little millionaire
from Denver.
She had been determined to play without marital limitations;
consequently, learning that Algy had not appeared there, she had
registered at the El Tovar as “Miss Alexandria Marget,” and had
thought herself most clever at the way she had changed her name.
When her grown daughter, Dodo, appeared upon the scene, however,
Miss Marget could not explain her former masquerade. And the hotel
clerks were chagrined to find that they had been making sport of one
of the wealthiest women in the west. Dodo, not aware of her mother’s
pastime, paid little heed to the humble attendants at the hotel.
The first day at Grand Canyon was devoted to visits to the Hopi and
Navajo Indian settlement, where the girls watched with interest the
handicraft workers in beads, willow, hide, and other curious things.
The second day at Grand Canyon, the weather became mild enough to
permit a number of visitors to ride down the Bright Angel trail, and
great preparations were made for spending the day and night down
below, then coming up by another trail.
“You never expect to reach the bottom alive, do you?” demanded Mrs.
Alexander, now restored to her rightful title.
“Why, of course!” retorted Dodo, laughingly. “It’s just as safe now
as in July—and there isn’t a flake of snow to be had yet, so there
is no danger along the trail. We had a far more dangerous time on
going through the aspen brakes on Humphrey’s Peak.”
“Well, you foolish people may risk your necks if you choose, but
don’t ask me to do so, too!” declared Mrs. Alexander.
“You dislike riding, anyway, Ma, so it’s just as well if you remain
above,” returned Dodo, hoping to be agreeable, yet hailing the news
that her mother would not ride down with them.
The plan was perfected that evening, and the guides asked those who
wished to take the trip to be ready in warm riding togs about eight
in the morning. Then, after all was settled, a group of new arrivals
poured into the hotel. With the strangers, Mrs. Alexander recognized
a man whom she had seen at the Colorado Springs hotel. He was
reputed to be a retired banker from San Francisco, but he
everlastingly played golf while staying at the resort, and she had
had no opportunity to try her charms to captivate him. Now, however,
he had no chance to play his favorite game, so she planned to play
her own little game with him.
Hearing that he would be one of the party to ride down Bright Angel,
Mrs. Alexander suddenly changed her mind and said she, too, had
decided to go with the rest. When she learned later, that the trip
had been extended to take in Ribbon Falls, and the nights’ rest at
Phantom Ranch, she wavered in her decision.
“How do I know I will have a decent bed at an old ranchhouse?”
wondered she, debating what would be best to do.
But the impressive appearance of the man she had watched and admired
at the Springs, proved too much for her dread of going without
comforts. Hence, she was up soon after the call-boy rapped at her
door in the morning, and then she started to dress herself in a
(what she considered) fetching tourist costume. She was still
arranging her hair, when Dodo knocked upon her door and called
impatiently to her.
“Goodness, Ma! We’re all through breakfast; it’s time to start, and
you’re still prinking as for a ball! Hurry up!”
“I’m coming!” exclaimed the lady, but she failed to do so, until a
third urgent call from her daughter brought her forth.
Mrs. Courtney and the girls were clothed in warm and serviceable
riding habits, but Mrs. Alexander had sacrificed comfort to her
desire to appear stylish. She wore a very youthful and natty outfit,
better adapted to screen work in Hollywood than a ride to the very
bottom of Grand Canyon in December.
When the other members of the large party were notified that the
tardy one had arrived and they could get upon the horses, Mrs.
Alexander maneuvered to edge her horse quite close to the one which
carried the man she wished to captivate. This gentleman, however,
paid scanty attention to any one—he seemed to be thinking seriously
of the beast he had to ride. Finally Mrs. Alexander played one of
her trump cards.
“Oh, Mr. Guide! It would be much pleasanter for every one in this
party if you would introduce us to each other. Seeing we are to be
members of one large family, as it were, for the next few days,
don’t you think we ought to know by what names to address each
other?”
One of the guides then rode up and introduced each one in turn,
calling that one by name; and the others signified their delight at
being introduced in this wholesale manner. When the man who was
responsible for Mrs. Alexander’s being one of the party was
introduced as Mr. Atchison, the others bowed to him. Mrs. Alexander
did more, however; she had, by degrees, worked her beast over so
that she was quite near the magnet to which she wished to attach
herself; then when Mr. Atchison rode out of line for a moment to be
introduced, she made her horse appear to start suddenly—thus she
urged the animal into the place just vacated.
Mr. Atchison saw his former place was taken, and he sat waiting for
the next man in turn to be introduced. Then he took that place,
which brought him directly behind Mrs. Alexander. This was what she
had hoped for, and, having succeeded in her little trick, she was
delighted with herself.
The signal was given to start down the trail, and the guides warned
every one about keeping close in the saddles, and letting the mounts
seek their own foothold. No one was to dream of jumping off while on
the down trail, nor were they to pull up the horses and halt the
line behind. Other advices were given, and then the long cavalcade
passed on its way.
Mrs. Alexander lost no time in following up the advantage she had
secured by taking another’s place in the line, and she chattered
like a magpie all the way from the hotel to the rim of the canyon,
turning constantly in the saddle to send a look at her admired
follower—literally speaking.
Mr. Atchison had little need to reply, since the lady kept up a
rapid-fire conversation which called for no answers. The burden of
her information seemed to be about the days spent at Colorado
Springs, when she envied him those marvelous shots! Had she known
that the gentleman addressed was thinking of other things while she
prattled, she might have changed her tactics.
When they came to Bright Angel Trail, and those in front had passed
over the rim, Mr. Atchison suddenly woke up.
“Madam, you’d better keep your face turned in the direction you’re
riding, or you may never have time to regret the error,” said he,
seriously, seeing Mrs. Alexander’s head turned towards him.
This silenced her for a time, and she paid strict attention to the
descent, but she planned at the same time just what she would do
when the party reached the first dismounting place to rest.
Soon afterwards, Mrs. Alexander found, in all seriousness, enough to
think of to keep her from sending one backward look at Mr. Atchison,
or, indeed, to continue planning what she might do when the tourists
reached Indian Gardens. Like most shallow persons, she was
dreadfully afraid of hurting herself, or of dying. Consequently,
when her mount seemed to edge too near the very rim of death, she
shrieked aloud in terror, or tried to drive the wise horse closer to
the wall. The result of these frantic actions were shown in torn
skirts, skinned thighs and scraped boots, where she rubbed against
the flinty walls of the Canyon.
After many trying incidents for Mrs. Alexander, and the impatient
advices forced from Mr. Atchison, who considered the hysterical
woman would have been better off in bed than on this trip, they
reached Indian Gardens and were glad to get out of the saddles and
relax.
Mrs. Alexander instantly fastened herself to her latest “ideal,” by
taking his arm and thanking him profusely for his care and concern
over her on the way thus far. She gazed, with what she fondly
believed to be a soulful look, up into his face, and he, prosaic
man, laughed aloud at her gushing manner.
“Why, my dear woman, I only warned you of dangers, because it would
be so unpleasant to have the whole crowd depressed by having you
slide out of sight over the rim of the trail. I came here with my
friends to enjoy myself, not to attend a post mortem. And I
earnestly advise you to remain here at the Gardens, until we return
up-trail and take you back,” suggested Mr. Atchison.
Mrs. Alexander failed to hear the sarcasm in the speech, and she may
have continued her blandishments had the gentleman not released his
arm by wriggling it away from her hold and instantly excusing
himself. He then hurried over to the place where the guides were
preparing luncheon for the party, and there he seemed deeply engaged
in conversing with two of them. Mrs. Alexander watched and saw him
pass a bill to one of the men, and the two guides addressed nodded
their heads, and, grinning, seemed to agree to a proposition.
Mr. Atchison then mingled with others, and found his friends with
whom he had arrived at the hotel late the night before. Dodo and her
friends now joined Mrs. Alexander so that she had no new opportunity
to appeal to her beau-ideal.
After the rest period had passed, the guides called all to mount
once more. One guide seemed to have difficulty in adjusting the
saddle on Mrs. Alexander’s horse, and this delayed her in finding
her place in the line. It became necessary for the guide to call
another one to aid him in fastening the straps, and, finally, Mrs.
Alexander found she would have to ride at the very end of the line;
one of the guides, now attending to her saddle-straps, being the
last member of the party. The other guide was just in advance of
her.
“Why! this isn’t my place, at all!” cried Mrs. Alexander, angrily,
seeing Mr. Atchison riding with his friends.
“There are no reserved places, Madam,” replied the guide.
Mrs. Alexander turned to look at the man, and then she recognized
the guide who had taken the money from Mr. Atchison.
“That’s what you _say_, but how about selling places?” snapped she,
beginning to understand that the man she wished to captivate had
purchased his way out of her reach.
“Beware, Madam! Your mount is slipping while you twist and turn like
this,” exclaimed the guide, warningly.
Since the animals had started on the down trail again, there was
nothing to be done about recovering her first place in the line. But
Mrs. Alexander was not one to be so readily turned from her object.
If she could not succeed in one way, she would try in other ways.
And there was no one to warn Mr. Atchison of this.
Just below Indian Gardens the leading guide turned off the Bright
Angel Trail and followed the Tonto Trail, which led down to the
bottom of the Canyon, and finally, known as the Kaibab Trail, ran
across the Colorado, via the great suspension bridge. Farther on
they reached Phantom Ranch, which was located in Bright Angel
Canyon.
The trip had been most enjoyable to every one but that one who had a
chip upon her shoulder. And finally, when the party dismounted at
Phantom Ranch for the night, they were tired from the long ride, but
eager to enjoy supper and an evening indoors.
Mrs. Alexander had planned to square herself with Mr. Atchison that
evening, but she was so worn out from riding all day that the
unusual exercise made her only too glad to crawl into bed. She
ordered her supper sent to her room, and she also commandeered a
maid to rub her aching bones with liniment. That proved to be an
unusual bonanza for the servant, because Mrs. Alexander never was
niggardly in rewarding dependents, and this girl had eased her
distress to such a degree that she lavished money upon her in
return.
Early the following morning the guides roused their party and urged
them to make haste and get along the trail again. Mrs. Alexander
found herself so stiff and sore, however, that she could not get up.
Try as she would to move her joints and make her limbs obey her
order, she found she lacked power to do so. Hence it was found that
she would have to remain at Phantom Ranch that day and rest in order
to continue back up-trail to El Tovar Hotel the next morning.
Naturally she rebelled against nature’s demand, and she proved she
could be a disagreeable guest. But Mr. Atchison had acquitted
himself bravely, as well he might, seeing he was to be freed from
tiresome attentions all that day.
In a spirit of mischief, as well as of freedom, he sent a large box
of bon bons and several magazines to Mrs. Alexander’s room with his
card, upon which he wrote “regrets.”
Of course, Mrs. Alexander decided that the gentleman was
heart-broken because she would not be with him that day, and she
smiled, even as she groaned with aching bones; then she turned to
open the box of candy.
The season for crowds of tourists having long been passed, the Ranch
host had not stocked up with fresh bon bons. The box sent to Mrs.
Alexander had been discovered back upon a shelf of the cupboard, and
no one knew how long it had been hiding there. Consequently, the
first bite in the chocolate-covered cocoanut bar caused Mrs.
Alexander to get rid of it quicker than she had bitten into it. The
cocoanut had soured, and the lady was finicky about her candies.
That box of sweets proved to be as genuine a failure as the
love-affair Mrs. Alexander had planned between the donor of the bon
bons and herself. With a deep sigh, she now turned her attention to
the magazines. Here, at least, she would find pastime in whiling
away the lonesome hours that day!
The first magazine she took up was the Popular Science Monthly,
having, as advertised, all the pictures of recent inventions and
scientific discoveries. This periodical she flung across the
room—what had she in common with such stuff!
The second magazine was found to be the Literary Digest. But it was
several months old, and not an item in it about fashions or society
gossip! This paper followed the first magazine—across the room.
The third and last copy turned out to be a more fortunate choice of
literature for this lady. It was a popular love-story magazine, but
it had been well-thumbed by guests during the year it had been upon
the table of the inn, and Mrs. Alexander scrutinized its torn pages
doubtfully, as she turned them over daintily.
Desire overcame doubt, however, and soon she was gloating over the
success of a beautiful young shop-girl who had won an earl’s son for
her husband. This was the kind of “literature” Mrs. Alexander
preferred, and she forgot her aches and loneliness, while devouring
the romances of impossible lovers.
Meanwhile Polly and her friends reached Ribbon Falls, and enjoyed
the trip immensely. Mr. Atchison found Mrs. Courtney and her charges
very agreeable, and the two parties became very friendly before they
started on the return ride to the Ranch where they would spend the
second night.
The weather continued warm and delightful, and the guides declared
they had never known such a prolonged Indian Summer since the
beginning of the World War. If it remained warm and temperate as it
was then they would be able to conduct visitors down the trails of
the Canyon all winter.
Mr. Atchison showed a marked preference for Mrs. Courtney’s society
that day, and Polly nudged her friends to have them watch the
grey-haired man singe his heart at the flame.
“Not much flame about Mrs. Courtney,” retorted Jack, laughing at
Polly’s remark.
“Well, I used that saying because it is common, but I suppose I
should have said he’d freeze his heart at the ice-berg,” was her
laughing correction.
“That’s better!” agreed Eleanor. “Any one who can resist the
attractions of our Dalky, as Mrs. Courtney has done, must have a
cake of ice where her heart should be.”
“That remains to be seen,” remarked Dodo, wisely. “There hasn’t been
opportunity for the two to get acquainted this trip, but wait till
this mining scheme ends, then we shall see!”
“Meanwhile, let that grey-haired man keep your friend in practise,
eh?” chuckled Jack, watching the man who was so attentive to the
lady under discussion.
On the ride back to the Ranch, Mr. Atchison hovered about Mrs.
Courtney, and when, at last, they rode up to the house, he insisted
upon helping her out of the saddle, and then assisting her to the
porch.
Mrs. Alexander had dressed late that afternoon, and was waiting for
the return of the riders, hurrying out to the porch the moment she
heard the hoofs of the horses. She was just in time to see her
whilom beau smile foolishly at Mrs. Courtney’s thanks, and then she
fixed him with her eye.
“I trust you had a pleasant ride, Mrs. Courtney,” began Mrs.
Alexander, still staring the mature admirer out of countenance. “I
preferred the solitude of this ranch to the troublesome attention of
elderly men! I had quite enough of that ridiculous sort of nonsense
on the ride down. What a pity old men never know when they are
passé!”
With this thrust, Mrs. Alexander took Mrs. Courtney’s arm and led
her safely away from the “nonsense” of passé admirers.
CHAPTER XIII
DALKY’S STORY
The Dalken party rested the day after the return to the hotel, and
then, the day following that, Jack had the guides take them down the
Hermit Trail. Mrs. Alexander refused emphatically to risk her
precious life again on such silly errands as those leading to the
bottom of the Canyon, only to have to ride up again!
They stopped over night at the Hermit Cabins, and then back-trailed
until they reached the Tonto Trail where it forks from the Hermit
Trail. The Tonto Trail led them along the Colorado River, but
necessarily swerving in and out between the huge peaks. Late that
afternoon they came to Bright Angel Trail, and thus regained the
upper level once more. It was quite dark by the time they entered
the hotel, and, at first, the lights dazzled their eyes so that they
did not see who was standing beside Mrs. Alexander. In a few
moments, however, Polly gave a glad squeal and rushed forward.
“Oh, Dalky! I’m _so_ glad to see you again. When did you get here?”
Mr. Dalken was immediately surrounded by the bevy of young people,
so that he found it impossible to reply to all their questions at
once. Turning to Polly, he answered her.
“We arrived not half an hour ago, and Mrs. Alexander was just
telling us about that dreadful trip down to Phantom Ranch. I only
wish I had been there, to try to encourage you when you feared
instant death over the rim of Bright Angel. Mrs. Alexander says the
trail got its name from the many lives which are being sacrificed
while trying to go up or down that perpendicular path.” Mr. Dalken’s
face showed no hint of a smile as he spoke, but Dodo laughed
outright.
“Why, Ma! I should think you’d try to keep your fears to yourself,”
exclaimed the girl. “As for telling any one how the trail got its
name—that is too absurd for anything! Some one has been stringing
you, that’s all.”
“I reckon I ought to know, young lady!” snapped Dodo’s mother. “Mr.
Atchison is very well-informed, and he spent more than an hour this
morning before he left, in telling me all about Grand Canyon and how
the trails got their various names.”
“Mr. Atchison tried to see just how much hot air you would take,”
chuckled Mr. Alexander.
“Ebeneezer! I told you a few minutes ago that you must not treat me
as you have in the past. I realize how far above you I am in my
ideals and social polish, and I demand recognition of my station,”
was Mrs. Alexander’s severe reprimand.
Her husband failed to be impressed by her hauteur, however, and his
laugh echoed through the room. In fact, it was so spontaneous and
contagious that all the others in the group—except Mrs. Alexander,
of course—had to smile with him.
“Well, well, girls! Come sit down and hear our story,” interrupted
Mr. Dalken, eager to silence these two bickering partners. And that
invitation instantly changed the trend of thought.
“Now, begin at the very beginning, Dalky—when you-all left us at
Flagstaff and rushed away without telling us where, or who with, or
when you’d get back,” coaxed Polly, eagerly.
“All right, then,” agreed Mr. Dalken. “In the parlance of the fairy
tales, I’ll say: ‘Once upon a time there were three wise men who
went to a far-off land to seek their fortunes.’” The narrator smiled
as he indicated Mr. Fuzzier, Mr. Alexander and himself. “Well, these
wise men thought they had reached the land of their dreams without
others being aware of their coming. But they were to learn that not
only had certain individuals in Chicago telegraphed the advent of
these wise men to certain individuals in and near the section of
country where the three friends were going to take fortune by the
forelock, but they discovered also that every movement since they
left Chicago until they were on the drive from Flagstaff to Sedona
was known to those who were waiting with their nets wide open to
entrap the unwary, innocent, gullible, wise men.”
The girls giggled at Mr. Dalken’s latter part of the tale, but Polly
interpolated: “Oh, do speak in simple English, Dalky! The story is
going to be too thrilling for round-about methods.”
“All right, then. Seeing you prefer unvarnished facts to classic
lore, here goes,” was the smiling rejoinder. “Jack, there, secured a
most valuable chauffeur for us,—but this was quite unintentional on
his part,—the morning we started from Flagstaff. In fact, we could
not have had a better man for our purpose, than the driver of the
car that sped us along the trail to Montezumas Castle.
“Bill Beldon, that’s the chauffeur’s name, seemed to have a hunch
that we needed speed to reach the old Farview Ranch before Father
Time could arrive there. So he kept his foot upon the gas without
letting up, until we struck a spread of gravel and that introduced
our vicissitudes. First Alex. ran up against a bit of gravel as
large as his head, and, his head being softer than the stone, he
showed results in a vast swelling. Then Fuzzy tried to dent the car
with his forehead, and immediately _his_ head began to puff up. I
waited for a better opportunity to dent something, and I found it
while stooping over Alex. Unfortunately for us both, the chauffeur
tried the same stunt at the same time. Result: two more swelled
heads. Now, girls, picture us four men, each one nursing a great
black and blue lump about the size of an orange!”
At the mental picture portrayed, every one present laughed merrily;
then Jack added: “I bet you won out in your plans, or you wouldn’t
sit there giving us the funny details of the first stage of the
trip.”
“Jack, my boy, you are too bright for your age,” commented Mr.
Fuzzier. Mr. Dalken paid no heed, but resumed his story.
“While we were trying to stand Alex. upon his feet, Bill explained
how he had learned who we were, and how a man by the name of Dunlap
had been anxiously waiting for us at Williams, where he thought we
must appear on the way to Grand Canyon. He also told us how the
chauffeur of Dunlap’s hired car, Jim, by name, was a chum of his,
and how Jim had driven Dunlap to Flagstaff twice that week to study
the register of the hotel and assure himself that his quarry had not
been there, and, perhaps, escaped him by another way.
“That was all we needed to make us forget heads and tires, and we
urged Bill to get busy with the gas, or he’d be a dead man.
“Needless to add, Fuzzy, here, assuaged the driver’s grief over the
damage the car would be sure to receive on that reckless trip from
the main road to Sedona, by promising him two new cars—or the price
of them—if he got us to the ranch before others woke up to the fact
that we were within a hundred miles of it.
“Well, Bill Beldon won his prize money, but it was touch and go at
the last. I’m anticipating the finale of the tale in order to quiet
Jack’s nerves—I see he wants to know if we won out.”
“Hurrah!” cried Jack, clapping his hands at the news. “That means
you go on with the South American project, and I can go down there
with the rest of the men to work on the development.”
Mr. Dalken smiled indulgently, for he thought he knew Jack well
enough to believe him incapable of serious application to work of
any kind. Then he continued his story.
“We left the main road, as I said, and were heading for Sedona, when
Bill struck this gravel stretch. The car behind had a good
opportunity now to catch up and pass us by, but the road was too
narrow to permit two cars abreast. Besides, our car, in striking the
deep rut, had turned partly across the road, thus obstructing it for
any other vehicles. All the same, we saw the driver, Jim, driving
along swiftly, and we were determined to evade his passenger,
Dunlap.
“We bundled Alex. back into the car, and in another moment Bill was
in his seat. By the time Fuzzy and I were inside, the car had
started again, and we soon out-distanced the car behind.
“We decided not to pass through Sedona, after all, but we tried to
keep on the outskirts in order to avoid attention. From there we
determined to strike in a southwesterly direction towards Camp
Verde. The ranch we were after was half-way between Sedona and
Verde, and we would have to go a bit off of our route in order to
travel on ready-made trails.
“All went well for us,—even the tires held out better than we had
expected them to do,—until we came to a crosstrail that struck in
from Clarkdale. Just before we reached the point where the trail
veered off to the great ranch for which we were bound, Bill spied a
third car coming from the direction of Clarkdale. As it was going at
top speed, he concluded that it had passengers who thought time must
be worth money. So he drew our attention to it.
“‘We take no chances, Bill!’ I ordered. ‘It may be a second Dunlap
in that car. Anyway, shoot ahead, and keep in the lead, no matter if
the whole works go to pieces a moment after we reach the ranch.’
“And Bill did shoot ahead. In fact, we made the turn to the ranch
about fifty yards in advance of the automobile coming from
Clarkdale.
“The ranch buildings could be seen in the far distance like so many
tiny dots upon the landscape, when our next delay came about. One of
the rear tires blew up. Bill gazed anxiously out to see how much
advanced time he might take and yet keep in the lead of the pursuing
car. No other automobile was to be seen, so we all jumped out,
jacked the car, and worked like college football players at a crack
game. You’d hardly believe it, if we were to tell you the time it
took us to change tires and get started again. Just as Alex. slammed
the door of the automobile, I peeped out and saw the car from
Clarkdale coming into view on the trail.
“Then, even as I was about to turn my gaze away, I saw the car skid,
and in another moment it had climbed up the side of the bank that
skirted the trail. It toppled over against the high side of the
embankment; that was fortunate for us, as we could not have been
heartless enough to leave an injured competitor upon a lonely trail
had the car rolled over on the downward side and turned turtle.
“We had gone another mile, when Alex., who was posted at the rear
window watching the trail behind, reported that another car was
coming along the trail, and the man who had been in the overturned
automobile was hailing the chauffeur to stop. In another moment,
Alex. said: ‘Now they’ve stopped, and the man is getting in the
other car. Now they are on their way again. But we have a fine lead
on them.’
“He had no more than finished speaking, when the front tire went
flat. I shouted to Bill to keep right on running on the flat tire,
if necessary, since it was not far now to the ranch buildings.
“But the flat tire delayed us in the race, and the jolting was
dreadful. In fact, when we pulled up in front of the one-story shack
where we were to meet the man who had the legal right to sign an
option for the property, we were completely out of breath from the
shaking up. We had reached our destination, however, five minutes in
advance of the other men, and Bill had earned his reward.
“Then I ran to the closed door, and banged away at it. No one
answered, and I tried the handle. The door was locked! Then we ran
about the place, Fuzzy to the sheds, Alex. to the back of the
shanty, and I to try a window to get in. All to no purpose! Not a
soul could we find, and no notice, either, to state where the owner
might have gone.
“To our chagrin the other automobile now pulled up in the clearing
before the shack, and Jim greeted his pal, Bill Beldon. We stood
eyeing the occupants of the car, as they prepared to get out, and
there, to our astonishment, we saw Algy step from the inside. He
appeared to be so frightened, and so shaken up, that he could not
speak to any one for a time. Two men followed directly after him,
and they came forward without ceremony to introduce themselves to
us.
“‘Is this the party from Chicago?’ asked the man whom we suspected
to be Dunlap.
“‘Why do you ask?’ I demanded impatiently, realizing how we had
missed the option on the place by having the owner break his
appointment.
“‘Because I must be sure I am addressing the right party before I
tell my story,’ explained Dunlap.
“‘And how about the man with you?’ asked Fuzzy. ‘He came from the
opposite direction, and but for the accident to his car, would have
reached here just ahead of you. Now he is with you.’
“‘Yes; I was greatly surprised to find Mr. Belnord in the vicinity
of the ranch, because I had reason to believe him at Williams, where
I left him the day I started for Flagstaff,’ explained the man
addressed.
“‘Then you make no secret of having tried to anticipate our arrival
at Flagstaff, and keeping yourself posted in regard to our
appearance at Williams?’ questioned Fuzzy, with a meaning smile.
“‘Oh, indeed, no! That is, if you are the three gentlemen for whom I
have instructions,’ returned the man.
“‘What do you mean—instructions for us?’ asked Alex.
“‘Why, didn’t you get the telegram I sent to Mr. Fuzzier in
Chicago?’ asked both men, anxiously. Then one added: ‘One of you
three gentlemen must be Mr. Fuzzier, I trust?’
“‘Well, yes! I am the man,’ confessed Fuzzy.
“‘And one of you must be the Mr. Dalken of New York, whom we wish to
see, and the third one is Mr. Alexander, of Denver?’
“‘Seeing that we happen to be these three men, what is it you wish
of us?’ I asked.
“‘Why,’ began the man who had been toppled over in the automobile,
‘I am Mr. Belnord, executor of the man who owned this great tract of
land. I found, in his sheaf of papers, that he had corresponded with
you gentlemen about an option on this land. And he further said,
that he wished you to have first choice on buying the place, because
Ebeneezer Alexander had befriended him years ago while both men were
at Cripple Creek staking out claims. It seems this Alexander had
staked a rich claim, and had advised my client to stake the
adjoining claim. He did so, and cleared up enough on that advice to
buy this great ranch.’
“‘And I am Mr. Dunlap, the agent who sold Sam White this ranch. I
happen to know that Sam always suspected his property of having a
rich vein of copper in it, and we often planned what we would do
some day, if Sam got over his rheumatism and could work. Poor Sam
died two weeks ago, and Mr. Belnord and I have been on the lookout
for you gentlemen ever since. We both had wires from your offices in
Chicago and New York, informing us that you would be on your way to
Grand Canyon by the time the messages reached us. And we posted
ourselves at the two main towns on the railroad, thinking you might
get off to have a look at the sights on the way.’
“‘When Dunlap and I heard you had gone on to the ranch, we both
started after you, hoping to save you the long, hard drive over
these dreadful trails. But you’ve got one fast driver, in that Bill
Beldon,’ explained Mr. Belnord.
“At that, we three stared speechlessly at the two men. I managed to
get my breath, however, and then asked: ‘Do you two mean to tell us
that you were trying to locate us in order to help us take up the
option on this land?’
“‘Why, of course! What did you think we wanted of you?’ asked Mr.
Dunlap.
“At that, we had to laugh at ourselves, but Bill Beldon stood
looking glum. He feared he would lose that reward, because he had
misinterpreted the intentions of the man Dunlap.
“‘I will confess, gentlemen,’ added Mr. Dunlap, after we had
exhausted our laughing-stock, ‘that I had my own axe to grind, as
well as seeing you get possession of this land. I bought a great
tract of land adjoining White’s ranch, because of my faith in his
powers of discernment. And I thought, perhaps, if you were
interested in taking up Sam’s ranch, you would also like to look
over my tract at the same time. I want to get into a big developing
scheme, and I have a little cash to add to the value of my land, if
you will consider me as one of your stock-holders. So, now,
gentlemen, suppose we get down to business.’
“Well, friends! That’s the story of how we ‘Three Wise Fools’ ran
ourselves across the country in search of a paper that was right at
hand in the little town from which we started. And all the time we
thought we were running away from our competitors, we actually were
running away from the two men who were anxious to help us realize
our wishes.” Mr. Dalken laughed as he concluded.
“How wonderful!” exclaimed Polly, delightedly.
“And you got all you went after?” asked Eleanor.
“More! And we need not have gone so far to get it, either,” replied
Mr. Fuzzier.
“Mr. Dalken’s name for you three seems most appropriate,” laughed
Mrs. Courtney, “but your wooden shoe was an automobile, and the sea
you sailed was the ranch-land. Now, however, we are glad to find you
have sailed safely back to harbor.”
“Thank you for that, Fair Lady,” smiled Mr. Dalken.
Mrs. Alexander had no idea of what Mrs. Courtney had been referring
to when she spoke of the wooden shoe and the sailing over the sea,
and she felt that she must add a word now.
“I was not told that Ebeneezer and you two other men wore wooden
shoes on that trip to the ranch, but that doesn’t concern _me_, if
you prefer to wear sores on your feet. What does concern me,
however, is Mr. Belnord. Where did you leave the gentleman who was
so attentive to me during my stop-over at Williams?”
“Why, Maggie, you’ll find him back in Chicago, by this time, I hope.
We sent him on at once to attend to all the papers concerning our
transaction,” explained Mr. Alexander.
“And what did you do with my poor Algy?” demanded the lady.
“Your Algy is still mooning around Williams, waiting as you
commanded him to do,” chuckled Mr. Alexander.
“You didn’t leave him there, did you, and come on to Grand Canyon,
where you knew I would be?” exclaimed his wife.
“Algy is of age, and he was afraid to disobey you, Maggie, dear!
You’ve got him trained better than I ever was,” retorted her
independent husband.
“My poor, dear Algy!” sighed Mrs. Alexander, leaving the group and
going to the desk to wire at once for her obedient admirer to join
her at Grand Canyon.
CHAPTER XIV
LETTERS EAST AND WEST
Mr. Dalken and his party remained at the Grand Canyon two days
longer, and then started for Prescott, where they would stop at the
leading hotel until Mr. Belnord returned from Chicago with the
signed papers for the three investors.
So interested were the members of the Dalken party on the way from
Grand Canyon, that they arrived at Williams before they were aware
of it. Here they were to change for Ash Fork, and at that town they
would change again for the train which ran to Prescott.
As Mrs. Alexander and Algy sat in the seat together, they heard the
guard announce Williams. Algy heaved a heartfelt sigh, and then
said: “Shall I eveh forget this place? I felt I had been deserted by
my best and only friend!”
“You didn’t act as though you felt that way,” retorted his “best and
only friend.” “I came here for you, and you had motored with that
man to the ranch. That’s how you broke your heart over being here
alone.”
“Aw, don’t say that, Mrs. Alexandeh, because you do not know how the
fellaw coaxed me to go and keep him company,” explained Algy.
There was no time to say more at that time, since all had to hurry
to change cars. And Algy’s shallow mind soon forgot the complaint he
had to make in exoneration of his leaving Williams.
Mrs. Alexander maintained a dignified silence all the rest of the
train-ride to Prescott, because she felt that Algy must be trained
to realize that she was the one to order and plan. Algy,
never-the-less, seemed not to miss her conversation because he was
preoccupied in watching Jack and the girls.
The three days spent in sight-seeing around Prescott were enjoyable
ones, and the entire party also made trips to many points a distance
from the town. The roads were excellent, and the weather continued
as mild as though it were summer instead of December. One of the
auto trips made at that time was along the Cherry Creek road, thence
along the Rio Verde to Camp Verde.
From Camp Verde, Mr. Dalken had the chauffeurs drive them on to
Crown King, where he wished to inspect certain parcels of land
offered for sale. As the vicinity of Crown King had recently
developed rich mineral deposits, it behooved these careful investors
to examine the truth of such reports.
Mr. Belnord arrived in Prescott the evening of the third day of the
Dalken’s party visit there. The success of his trip to Chicago made
a gala night of his appearance with the recorded deeds, and the
elderly men of the party joined in the dancing with the younger
generation with such vim that they soon wilted.
During the next two days at the hotel, a budget of letters arrived
for the members of the touring party. These letters had been
forwarded from one place to another all along the line, and now, ten
days later, they were delivered to the right persons.
Polly received more personal letters than any one of her friends,
but then, it was remembered that Tom would be sure to mail her a
letter every day, even though it contained but the one oft-repeated
sentiment: “I love you. Will you marry me, Polly?” These easily
recognized letters were left to the very last, however, and Polly
eagerly read the communications from her friends in the East.
“Oh, girls, _girls_!” exclaimed she, having read half through one of
her New York letters. “Guess the news—it’s wonderful!”
“What—oh, what is it?” demanded several voices, their owners
looking expectantly at Polly.
“Why, Nancy Fabian is engaged to Raymond Ames—the chum Jack brought
aboard the yacht at Palm Beach, during our southern cruise, you
know!” exclaimed Polly, aware of the importance of her news.
“No! You don’t mean to tell me that Ray is such a ninny as to fall
in love with a girl!” was Jack’s disgusted comment.
“Of course not!” retorted Eleanor, quickly. “It’s poor Nancy who is
the goose. To think of such a brilliant, talented girl throwing
herself away upon a mere young man! Now, if this friend of Jack’s
had anything to recommend him other than his acquaintance with a
ne’er-do-well that we all know too well, but whom we will not
mention, it might be pardonable. But to see _Nancy_ choose Ray!”
“Umph!” snorted Jack, highly indignant at her tone. “I bet anything
you girls would just give your heads to have an offer of marriage
from such a good-looking chap. _I_ know some girls who would like to
catch _me_!”
“Oh, hark! The little vanity bag!” laughed Dodo.
The others joined in the laugh, as much at her comparison as at her
contagious laughter.
“Well, anyway, there is hope that Nancy may be saved from taking the
fatal step in matrimony,” mused Polly, glancing at the letter in her
hand. “She writes that there is no idea of her marrying in the near
future, but Ray and she decided to announce an engagement to stop
every one from asking them ‘when is it to be?’”
“I just want to see any one drive me to such extremes by asking
impertinent questions. I’d tell them mighty quick just where they
get off!” declared Dodo, tossing her head.
“Good reason why you’d like to see them ask you,” teased Jack.
This second hint from him brought down an avalanche of protests from
the three girls—as he knew it would. He dearly loved to tease them,
and nothing pleased him better than to have them all defending
themselves at one time.
“You certainly have a bad memory, Jack Baxter!” exclaimed Eleanor.
“I can remember, not many years ago, when you fell in love with
first one and then the other one of us girls. When you got the
mitten from Polly, you threatened to commit suicide. But you merely
took a trip to Pebbly Pit. Then you began again, and fell in love
with me. I soon showed you the exit, however! And you next tried the
game on Dodo. She felt sorry for you, and told you in a gentle
manner that she would prefer to be your sister. But, at that time,
she had no idea of what a wretched brother you’d make. Now you’re
willing to fall in love with any girl who’ll look at you—only they
won’t look your way!”
While Eleanor had unburdened her heart of this long complaint, Polly
had hastily opened Tom’s last letter. As she had expected, she found
his letter wound up with his usual proposal. She waved the letter
defiantly under Jack’s nose, and then added: “There, you conceited
child! Don’t tell us we never have an offer from a beau. Here’s one
in this letter—and I can marry the man any day I care to speak the
word. In fact, he’d follow me all the way to China, if I said I’d
marry him in Pekin!”
“Oh, you mean Tom Latimer,” returned Jack. “We all know _he_ doesn’t
mean what he says. He is so used to proposing now, that he does it
from force of habit. If you were to write and tell him you’d
consider his offer, he’d soon back down in some way.”
“Why!” gasped Polly, frowning at Jack. “I’d just like to shake you
till your teeth rattled.”
Jack roared. He hadn’t enjoyed himself so much in a long time. “My
teeth can’t rattle. Poll. They’re set in too firmly.”
“Oh, go along with you!” cried Dodo, jumping up and catching the
torment by the shoulders and wheeling him right-about-face and then
marching him from the room.
Jack found Dodo’s muscle too much for him, and he had to make a
graceful, though forced, exit. When he heard the key turn in the
lock of the door, he hurried to the desk and asked the clerk to
kindly ascertain why it was that that reception room door was
locked.
Naturally the clerk was amazed at such temerity in any one stopping
at the hotel, and he hastened to demand that the door be opened at
once! The three girls, believing Jack was knocking and demanding
entrance, refused to unlock the door. Consequently, the clerk went
for a pass-key and in a short time had the door wide open. When the
two sides—the girls and the clerk—faced each other, the truth came
out, and Jack was destined to have a trick played upon him to square
accounts with the girls.
Other letters from friends at Pebbly Pit and from New York were
received by the members of Mr. Dalken’s party, and then Mr. Dalken
sat down to reply to those which he had received from Mr. Ashby that
day. After telling him of the successful issue of his attempt to
secure the valuable mining land near the competing copper company’s
vast lands, he went on to speak of the strides the new corporation,
called “South American Interior Developing Company,” were making.
Then he spoke of his future plans.
“You see, Ashby, the terrific earthquake in Japan has made a visit
to the Orient out of the question at present. Now the question is:
Have your friends in New York thought of any place you might choose
for next summer’s vacationing, instead of Japan?
“Since we are all so far west, and will be in California after
Christmas and during the following three months, I am inclined to
take that President Harding trip to Alaska—that is, I think it
would be splendid to visit the same places he saw, and do Alaska
thoroughly, before we go outside of our own country.
“If the Fabians and you with your family started for San Francisco
in April, I will have completed all my business visits by that time,
and we could lease a small steamer or yacht, and sail leisurely
northward. We could stop whenever we pleased, as we did upon the
trip to the West Indies, and down the coast of South America. We
could follow the pathway now so well known, because our honored
President passed that way to Alaska, and we might go farther inland,
and northward, to look over the mining industries there. It ought to
give us many valuable points on the wisdom of selecting mining
equipment for our South American work.
“We would have at least three to four months in which to enjoy this
trip, but I will say that I see little hope of your finding any
goods whatever suitable for your Decorating Shops. This time it will
be a genuine rest for you—and you need it, old man!
“We can be back in San Francisco by the last week of August, and you
can devote a little time then to looking up the latest imports from
the Orient, in California. You may find enough rare bargains to make
it worth coming on such a long trip.
“I am writing the Fabians to-night, also, and you two families can
get together and talk things over, then write and let me know your
final decision. Remember, however, that we ought to start for Alaska
not later than May, if we hope to have a good visit there and get
back in San Francisco by the last of August.
“If you folks should decide to travel by the Canadian Pacific road
and meet us in Seattle, you must give us ample time in which to
change our plans to meet you there. It will matter little to me
whether it be San Francisco or Seattle, just as long as you give me
plenty of notice.
“The Colombian Development plan is going ahead splendidly, and
Fuzzier plans to take Alexander with him to visit the territory for
which he has options. They will sail from San Francisco as soon as
we arrive there, and expect to be in South America the greater part
of the next six months.”
Having concluded his letters to his friends in New York, Mr. Dalken
walked to the mail-box to post them. Here he met Polly about to mail
a letter she had just finished.
“Dalky, did you say anything about Tom Latimer going to South
America with Fuzzy and Dodo’s father?” asked Polly.
“No, I was not aware that Tom is expected to join us again,” replied
Mr. Dalken. “I thought his huff seemed to be permanent.”
“I am not aware of his intentions either,” admitted Polly, “but I
heard him telling my brother that he’d love to go with the men who
would visit Colombia to take up the options on that land.”
“Well, if that is so, I’ll write and invite him to come on and meet
us in Los Angeles, and then he can join Fuzzier and Alexander on
their trip,” remarked Mr. Dalken. But he wondered what Polly meant
by this unusual reference to Tom. Had he dreamed that she had been
peeved by Jack, when he had said the girls could not find any wise
young man to propose to them, he would have laughed at her. Polly
had been spoiled during the past two years, by having so many
admirers wait upon her; and now, barring Jack’s indifferent
attentions, having no young man hovering about, made her miss her
faithful beau. Perhaps this lack of attention caused her to write an
unusually kind letter to Tom. But she did not mention the
possibility of his coming to join the two men who planned to go on
to South America—she left that to Dalky, because she had no desire
to be held responsible for Tom, after he should arrive in
California.
Eleanor had received a letter that day, too, but she had not
mentioned it to any one. It had been forwarded from New York, the
day after the tourists left that city for the west. Then it went to
Oak Creek, and there it was sent on to the Denver hotel. Again it
had been forwarded to Santa Fé, and then to Albuquerque. It reached
Gallup the same day Eleanor left there, but it was not forwarded to
Flagstaff for several days, and when it did arrive at the latter
place, Eleanor had just gone to Grand Canyon. Now it reached her
with its envelope covered with postmarks, and the original address
almost obliterated. But the girl flushed as she recognized Paul
Stewart’s scrawly writing.
Slipping the letter inside her blouse, she waited an opportunity to
get away where she might read it undisturbed by others. Now she had
this opportunity, and she made the most of it.
She hastily opened the sealed envelope and smiled as she found the
familiar scrawl that covered a double sheet of paper. As she read
how Paul had succeeded in his engineering work in the Rockies of
Southern Colorado, she felt proud of him and his fight against
poverty. He went on to say that all he needed now was the big
opportunity to prove what was in him. When that chance came, he was
ready to take it by the forelock, and as soon as he had made good
his claims, he would be making tracks in the direction of a certain
girl he knew—one who thought nothing of money, but a lot of a real
man! “Still,” wrote Paul, “I cannot ask that girl to have me unless
I have something more than brag to prove what I am capable of doing.
In case you hear our old friend Dalken mention any plans he may have
on the board where a wide-awake mining engineer is needed, I trust
you will not forget to recommend your devoted lover and soon-to-be
husband.”
Eleanor gasped at this daring signature, but she rather enjoyed such
a high-handed manner. Now she remembered that Mr. Fuzzier and Dodo’s
father were planning to go to South America as soon as they reached
California. And she lost no time in driving a wedge for Paul to
accompany them on this trip.
She opened the subject nearest her heart that evening, and began by
asking Mr. Dalken how many men might be allowed to go with the two
men.
“Why do you ask? Polly wants to get rid of one admirer, and I
suppose you have another one to get rid of, eh?” laughed he.
“Yes, that’s it!” retorted Eleanor. “But this one is a wonderful
engineer, and he has an exceptional position in South Colorado at
the present time. However, I might persuade him to give that up, if
we could show him any advantage in going to South America with our
friends.”
Mr. Dalken smiled. He was good at guessing, and he guessed Eleanor’s
secret. However, he understood her reluctance to admit any interest
in Paul Stewart, and he acted accordingly.
“If the young man you are thinking of is a first-rate _young_
engineer, there will be a splendid opening for him with us down
there. Fuzzy and Alexander and I were talking about it to-day. I
said I would like to get all the young engineers I had met through
my acquaintance with the Brewsters to go down there and make their
fortunes—as they will be able to do in such a project. Now you
might write this young man and have him write to me to reserve any
opening for him which may come up. If he could get to California and
meet us there before Fuzzier sails, he might prove to be a valuable
man to take down there.”
“Oh, Dalky! Thank you so much. Now I’ll have _you_ write to Paul and
tell him exactly what you told me. It will bear more weight, coming
from you, of course. And it will let me out of appearing
over-anxious to encourage him to make good, see my point.”
Mr. Dalken laughed. “Yes, I see your point, Nolla, and I must add
that you are too particular—even as Polly is. These young men who
are so devoted to you girls now, may change their minds once they
reach South America and find how lovely and willing to be loved are
the girls there. You may never have Paul yearn to come back, after
having a southern beauty make love to him.”
“In that case, he is not worth pining for. If a man cannot love a
girl as well when he is absent from her as he does when he is
present with her, he is not to be trusted in love,” declared
Eleanor, tossing her head.
“I don’t know but that you are right, Nolla!” said Mr. Dalken.
“I _know_ I am, Dalky. Life is long, and love is fleeting, so it is
best to find a mate who is loyal and true in all circumstances,
don’t you think so?” said wise Eleanor.
“You’re a good judge, and if all girls were as thoughtful, before
they became engaged, there would be less marital troubles,” agreed
Mr. Dalken.
CHAPTER XV
DALKY TAKES A VACATION
Having concluded his business with the two representatives of Sam
White’s estate, Mr. Dalken decided that he had earned a rest.
Therefore, when the young people asked, “Where next?” he replied:
“To Castle Hot Springs.”
This came as a surprise, because Jack had planned that day that they
would all go on to Phœnix, where not only business could be attended
to by the three men in the party, but the younger members would find
every kind of sport they might care to enjoy.
Dalky’s wish was law, however, and that evening found his entire
party domiciled at the high-class hotel located at the Springs. The
main feature of interest seen from the autos on that drive from Hot
Springs Junction, where they left the train, was the great varieties
of cacti, some of which towered as high as twenty-five feet above
the ground.
Hot Springs was an ideal resort for resting, and Dalky wished he
might remain there a month. The golf and tennis, the open air
swimming pools, the delightful horseback rides to points of
interest, brought a sense of peace to the three men who had raced
here and there in Illinois, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona ever
since they met together at Chicago. The week spent at the Springs
did more, perhaps, to stimulate Mr. Dalken’s keen and ever alert
brain than anything he could have done.
Mrs. Courtney was not a devotee of swimming in ready-made pools, but
she preferred a nice, comfortable bathtub. Therefore, she generally
watched the others swim whenever they took the plunge. It needed no
more than the first trial to show Mr. Dalken that he might give that
time to better purposes, if he went for his swim before breakfast in
the morning. So, the second day of the tourists’ stay at Hot
Springs, found all but Mrs. Courtney and Mr. Dalken running to the
pool about ten o’clock in the morning.
“Why, Dalky! Aren’t you coming in with us?” cried Polly.
“I’ve taken my dip—before breakfast,” returned he.
Eleanor sent Polly a knowing glance, and then plunged from the
diving board. Jack and the three girls enjoyed the fun to the
utmost, and thus they forgot to keep an eye upon the two watchers
who usually received more than their share of attention from the
girls.
Mrs. Alexander never came near the swimming pool, and Algy, of
course, would not think of doing anything that his patroness did not
approve; hence they were sitting on the verandah of the hotel,
vainly believing they were the center of envious eyes, whereas the
other guests then lounging about the wide porch never thought of the
over-dressed lady and her insignificant escort.
Mr. Fuzzier and Mr. Alexander were splashing and diving about in the
pool, and this left Mr. Dalken and his companion free to follow
their own inclinations. By the time the two were missed from their
recent post at the edge of the swimming pool, it was impossible to
learn what had become of them.
The truth of the matter was that Mr. Dalken invited his friend to go
for an auto drive to the Junction, where he wished to attend to some
personal shopping. And Mrs. Courtney, having nothing better to do at
the moment, accepted his friendly invitation. The distance to the
Junction being about twenty-four miles, and the day being balmy and
beautiful, the chauffeur was advised to drive slowly and give his
passengers due opportunity to view the wonderful country they would
pass through. Thus it took the entire morning before the two
runaways were able to reach the hotel again, and this unaccounted
for absence gave rise to all sorts of speculations in the minds of
the girls.
Directly after coming from the dressing rooms of the bath-houses,
Eleanor whispered to her two companions: “Now I know why Dalky
wanted this vacation. He was head over heels in attending to
financial matters of the utmost importance, and suddenly, when he
found that Atchison man making up to Mrs. Courtney, he takes us all
away from the busy world and loses a week here at the Hot Springs.
He knows he will have his chance here to carry out his plans—you
know what, girls!”
Polly knew, but she was not easily persuaded that Eleanor’s
interpretation was correct. “I really believe Dalky was tired
out—you must remember that _we_ had a few weeks in which to rest
after the cruise from South America, but Dalky went right on racing
about New York, holding conferences and attending to important
business matters. From the moment we left New York City on the
Limited, he has been working ceaselessly—either with brain or body,
and that tells on one, unless you take a rest. At the same time, I
doubt if he would have thought of resting at this ideal resort had
it not been for Mrs. Courtney. Now it remains to be seen how near
right Nolla is.”
“I agree with Polly—Dalky is too matter-of-fact to plan any
romantic affair here at the Springs. If he wants to ask some one to
marry him, I bet he’d do it right in front of us all,” said Dodo.
“There you are mistaken!” exclaimed Polly and Eleanor together. And
Polly added: “Dalky has more romance in his make-up than you give
him credit for. The only trouble is that it has been suppressed by
the unhappy conditions of his first marriage.”
“You might say the same about Mrs. Courtney, too!” declared Eleanor.
“If it were not that both of them have had such lamentable
experiences, I am sure they would have shown each other plainly,
long before this, that they were ideally mated, and that would have
ended all our worries.”
Dodo laughed merrily and then added: “Nothing to worry about, Nolla.
It isn’t as though he was your beau.”
“No; but can’t you see that it does matter? If Dalky is happily
married to Mrs. Courtney, who is his other half-soul if there is
such a thing, it stands to reason that Polly and I shall always be
welcome additions to their little nest. Should Dalky marry some
woman of whom we know nothing, what chance is there for our future
welcome?” Eleanor frowned at such a dreadful supposition, and her
two friends laughed.
“You may be married first, Nolla, and then you can invite Dalky to
visit you,” ventured Dodo.
“No, Doe! Polly and I have sworn to see dear Dalky happily settled
first, before we may give a thought to husbands for ourselves,”
explained Eleanor, seriously.
“Wouldn’t it be queer if Dalky should confess he was in love with
Polly? He certainly likes her more than any one else I know. If
Polly became Mrs. Dalken we would sure have a good time with her,”
laughed Dodo.
“Why!” gasped Polly, horrified. “You talk like a—a—a I don’t know
what!”
Eleanor laughed aloud. “That is sacrilege, Dodo. Polly reveres Dalky
too much to ever dream of wasting his life by thinking of her for a
future bride.”
“Besides, there is Tom Latimer to be reckoned with. If Dalky ever
carried out such a plan as I just mentioned, Tom Latimer would have
his heart—like Shylock, you know,” giggled Dodo, enjoying Polly’s
annoyance and horror.
“But Shylock never got that heart,” added Eleanor. “Neither would
Tom get Dalky’s—but such things are out of the question.”
“I should think they were!” snapped Polly. “You girls seem to be
beau-crazy, and I have no patience with you—not a bit.” So saying,
she walked quickly away by herself.
When the three girls met again it was at luncheon time. Mr. Dalken
and Mrs. Courtney were ascending the front steps of the wide
verandah, but there were no tell-tale expressions upon the faces of
either one. Eleanor searched in vain for the blush that might inform
her whether Mrs. Courtney planned to become Mrs. Dalken.
Mrs. Alexander learned that Mrs. Courtney had accompanied the young
folks to the swimming pool every morning, and she immediately
conjectured that she did this in order to wear a fetching gown and
carry her white wrap—white was _so_ becoming to elderly women!
Then she heard that Mr. Dalken had escorted her there, and Mr.
Fuzzier had come up out of the water to sit upon the bank and talk
with her. This was enough incentive for her to plan how she would
take Algy, and walk to the pool in the morning, and show off her
lovely white serge gown and suede shoes. She had a flapper-stick
which she had used at Colorado Springs, fondly believing herself the
envy of all the women. This she would carry the following morning.
She knew better than to breathe a word of her plan to any one else,
but directly after breakfast the next morning, she went to her room
and began to dress for the parade she had decided upon.
Algy had been commanded to sit and wait for his patroness, and he
obeyed just as any good little poodle would do. He sat slowly
rocking in a huge, reed, porch chair, vacantly staring at a great
stucco pillar of the pergola. Not that there was aught to see upon
the pillar, but it served to interest his mind as well as anything.
The group of swimmers left the hotel to go to the bathhouses, and
soon after this Mrs. Alexander came out of her room, dressed as she
had planned the previous evening. She carried her imported
flapper-stick, and she also carried a most artistic basket which
contained some wool and a partly knitted scarf. She knew nothing
about a knitting needle, but the basket was a beautiful Indian
specimen recently purchased by Dodo at Grand Canyon, and Dodo’s
knitting might lead guests to believe that the lady carrying the
work was accomplished in the art. Other ladies sitting upon the
verandah during morning hours had compared their knitting and
embroidery, and Mrs. Alexander understood it was quite the proper
thing to do.
Algy hopped up the moment he saw Mrs. Alexander approach, and she,
in order to be impressive before the group of ladies busily at work
upon their handicraft, handed him the basket with the admonition:
“Do be careful, Algy, of the ball of wool. If it falls out it may
ravel all my knitting, you know. And that stitch is a very intricate
one to do.”
Algy took the basket as though it were some sacred relic, and, as he
toddled after Mrs. Alexander, he caused smiles upon the faces of the
ladies watching the little scene. After the two had gone down the
foot-path, those upon the verandah left little unsaid about the
vanity of the lady and the vacuity of the young man.
Mrs. Alexander felt sure she had caused a feeling of envy in the
hearts of every woman upon that verandah, and this certainty made
her feel satisfied with herself. As she reached the pool where an
iron hand-rail protects watchers from falling into the water, she
smiled to herself, thinking how much better she looked in comparison
with Mrs. Courtney, who stood upon the platform with Mr. Dalken.
Mr. Alexander had just scrambled out of the pool and now was
mounting to the platform, when Mr. Fuzzier, at his heels, spoke to
him. “Your wife is standing over there watching you, Alex.”
“Umph! There’s safety in distance!” grunted Mr. Alexander.
Mrs. Alexander saw that the three men seemed to be devoting their
attention to Mrs. Courtney, and this was not as it should be,
thought she. Hence she turned to Algy, and said: “I am going over to
join my husband, Algy,” and she nodded in the direction of the group
upon the diving-platform.
Algy followed as usual, carrying the ornamental basket upon his arm.
In walking too near Mrs. Alexander, however, he inadvertently
stubbed his toe and stumbled. To steady himself he caught at her
arm, and unconsciously dropped the basket.
Having righted himself once more, he stooped and picked up the
basket, but he failed to notice that the ball of worsted rolled out
and remained caught under a tuft of grass beside the walk. When he
started again for the platform, the ball began to unroll its length
of wool, and the scarf also began to respond to the tugging at it as
it remained in the basket, and the stitches gradually ravelled out.
By the time Algy joined those standing upon the platform, half of
Dodo’s pretty scarf had diminished into its original strand of wool.
Mrs. Alexander swung her handsome cane aimlessly to and fro to
attract Mrs. Courtney’s attention, since that was the only reason
for her carrying it, but her husband also saw it.
“By the Great Horned Spoon, Maggie! How’d you ever come to fetch a
walkin’ stick? Folks will think you are locoed.”
But his wife paid no heed to his remark—he was too ignorant of the
ways of fashionable society to cause her any concern. She turned to
prattle to Mrs. Courtney about the jealousy of the women upon the
hotel verandah—“They are so envious of one who has better clothes,
you know, that I really had to leave them. Did you ever see such
dowdies as they are?”
Mrs. Courtney had not noticed, and she admitted it. At the same time
she had to control a desire to tell Mrs. Alexander how unsuitably
_she_ was dressed for a simple morning recreation hour. Perhaps Mr.
Alexander would have spoken for her, had not Algy diverted all
attention to himself.
Jack had been watching the slow progress of Algy and his companion
from the pathway to the platform, and he planned, when he saw the
young man so near the water, that he would swim close to the side
and begin to splash, so that the water would sprinkle him.
Algy had been intent upon the conversation between the two ladies,
and now, when he felt the drops of water falling upon him, he looked
aloft, thinking a sprinkler or shower must be leaking upon him.
Seeing nothing overhead, he glanced down and saw some one kicking
and sending up great showers of water. Algy felt that it was his
duty to speak to this thoughtless swimmer, and to warn him that
well-groomed persons upon the platform would be made uncomfortable.
“Heah, you! I say! Don’t cha see what youah ah doing? My white
flannels are all spotted, and the ladies——” At this moment Algy’s
foot slid upon the wet, slippery plank, and in another second he had
made a head dive—basket and wool, and all!
Since he detested water in quantity sufficient for swimming, Algy
was unprepared for his impromptu bath. It was quite deep beneath the
platform, to accommodate those who wished to dive, and now the
frightened youth came to the surface spluttering and throwing hands
above his head in a wild attempt to clutch at some support.
Mrs. Alexander received the first genuine shock in many moons, and
she acted like the old-time Maggie whom Mr. Alexander remembered
with regret. “My goodness, Ebeneezer!” cried she, forgetting the
expensive cane in her fear for Algy’s life, and using it to hold
down for him to hold to. “Jump in and save him quick!”
“That ain’t the ocean, Maggie,” retorted her husband. “A little warm
water won’t hurt his head.”
“Oh, you cruel man. Won’t some one save the boy?” pleaded she.
“Jack!” shouted Mr. Dalken, “swim up and give him help to climb up
on the steps.”
Jack had been hovering near enough to Algy to grip him when he had
been sufficiently tested, and now he reached out and grabbed him by
the coat collar and propelled him over to the steep steps which led
up from the pool.
“There you are, my son,” laughed Jack, as he tried to show Algy how
he was to hold fast to the handrail.
But the frightened young man appeared to have lost all sense, for he
merely hung limp from Jack’s grasp. After a short time of having to
hold up his weight, Jack got tired, and said: “I’m going to drop him
if he won’t help himself. I can’t carry him out as though he had
been drowned, Dalky!”
The word “drowned” seemed to rouse the dormant brain in Algy, and he
frantically caught hold of anything within reach. Fortunately it
happened to be the steps, and soon he had his feet upon them. Then
Jack boosted from behind, while Mrs. Alexander caught hold of his
hair and pulled from above.
“Ouch! Ouch!” screamed Algy, but he feared to let go his grasp on
the ladder in order to make the hand clutching his long blonde hair
release its hold.
[Illustration: “OUCH! OUCH!” SCREAMED ALGY.]
Thus he came up over the top of the platform, a dripping,
drowned-looking, lank young man, the tears streaming from his eyes,
and the water streaming from every wrinkle in his sopping clothes.
He presented such a pathetic yet comic picture that his friends
wavered between a desire to laugh and a desire to sympathize.
Eventually both were indulged, but Algy paid no heed to either.
“What shall I do?” wailed he, shivering as he sent a glance of
terror at the pool.
“Go right into the bath-house and ask the attendant to give you a
rub-down and dry your clothes,” advised Mr. Dalken.
But Algy seemed to have had his last bit of sense washed out of him,
and he stood shivering without making a move to do as he had been
advised. Then Mr. Alexander took a hand in the case.
“Come along there, A. A. A.! If you don’t get off this wet platform,
you’ll slip back in the pool again. Now come on!”
As though the threat of more water roused him from sleep, Algy
hurried after Mr. Alexander. Then it was seen that he still clutched
the Indian basket; and the strand of wool, having so entangled
itself through the dive and the rescue, stretched and stretched, and
at last it snapped! When Mrs. Alexander saved her daughter’s
work-basket, still dangling from Algy’s hand, the scarf had been
unravelled, and but one row of stitches remained upon the needles in
the basket.
“Why, Ma! Isn’t that my work-basket which A. A. A. has upon his
arm?” exclaimed Dodo, astonishment uppermost in her expression.
“I think it is, Dodo. I used it for my work, this morning, but I did
not remove your knitting.”
“Your work! What work was that, Ma?” asked Dodo, in amazement.
“Oh! A bit of work that I wanted to do this morning. Something of
which you know nothing. I fear it is gone now—in the pool, likely,”
and Mrs. Alexander sighed with regret.
CHAPTER XVI
ARRIVALS IN LOS ANGELES
Mr. Dalken must have made important headway in his plans of engaging
Mrs. Courtney’s heart during the short vacation at Hot Springs,
because Polly and Eleanor noticed thereafter how they managed to
secure tête-à-têtes and exchange quiet though understanding glances
when they believed themselves unseen. It would have been difficult,
however, to escape the watchful eyes of Polly and Eleanor, because
this romance was exactly what they had hoped to perfect during the
past two years.
The trip from Hot Springs to Phœnix was not very long, but quite
long enough to give Mr. Dalken an opportunity to sit beside Mrs.
Courtney and engage her entire attention with what he had to say. It
seems he had need of papers and plans in this conversation, and
Polly gladly believed he was explaining about his interests, in
order to prove to Mrs. Courtney that she would not be making a
mistake by trusting her future to his wisdom and care.
The Salt River Valley, which covers an area as large as the combined
states of Connecticut, Delaware and Rhode Island, was one of great
loveliness. During the ride to Phœnix, Mr. Fuzzier explained various
sights to the girls.
“This great natural gorge of the Salt River has been utilized by the
United States to provide the largest irrigating system in the world.
When we motor from Phœnix, we will stop at Roosevelt Dam, where the
waters are reserved in a vast lake named after the famous American,
Roosevelt. The dam is 1,125 feet wide, and the curved wall at its
base is about 168 feet thick—just think of that! The height of this
tremendous dam is 284 feet, but there are wide spillways to carry
off flood-water. We will motor out there and show you this wonder of
modern engineering.” After that the girls looked with renewed
interest at the Salt River which flows by Phœnix.
There were many sights to see in Phœnix and the country round about.
The girls found shopping in the up-to-date stores a pleasure, and
their wardrobe was replenished without delay. They visited the
capitol, which was a handsome edifice; and the time they rode to
Camelback Mountain they spent a night at Ingleside Inn.
But the most enjoyable trip of all those about Phœnix, was the one
to Roosevelt Lake and the Dam. They motored there, as Mr. Fuzzier
had promised them, and the sight of the huge project so successfully
built and operated, caused even the foolish Mrs. Alexander and the
vapid Algy to stare in silence at man’s ingenuity and capabilities.
“When one sees what is possible to mere man, it enthuses one with
great ideas. No wonder you are so keen over Mr. Fuzzier’s plans to
develop the interior of Colombia, Mr. Dalken,” said Mrs. Courtney,
enthusiastically.
“Look at this tremendous work, which had to form first in the mind
of man, and then be constructed stone by stone, and by means of the
hands which had to obey the mandates of man’s brain. Without the
power to think correctly, where would this completed wonder be?”
remarked Mr. Dalken, seriously.
That man-made wonder impressed the girls and Jack more than the
natural wonders found in the great southwest, and all the way back
to Phœnix, they were discussing the power to think.
Another trip made while making Phœnix their headquarters, was the
outing to Hotel San Marcos. Here the entire party enjoyed the
recreations and social life which is possible through the
exclusiveness of the hotel and its cottages.
During the time which Mr. Dalken and his two associates had to
devote to interviews and business conferences with men of affairs in
Phœnix, the girls and Jack enjoyed tennis and golf at the Country
Club; cards of introduction for them had been presented by a bank
president, who was deeply interested in the South American plan of
development.
Finally Mr. Dalken announced that he had finished his business in
Arizona and was ready to go on to California.
“At last!” sighed Polly, for whom this entire trip meant a visit to
the Golden Gate State.
“To hear you, one might think you expected to meet your fate in
California,” laughed Jack, as the train started for Cadiz, where
they would continue on the Santa Fé lines to Los Angeles.
“Maybe she will—Tom Latimer will meet us there,” announced Mr.
Dalken.
“No! Really?” cried Eleanor, anxiously watching Mr. Dalken’s face to
learn if any one else might be expected to meet them in California.
“Yes, Tom writes he will be on hand shortly after we arrive. And I
also heard from a few other young engineers to whom I extended an
invitation to join Mr. Fuzzier’s party to South America. I have
received acceptances from several of these. I wonder if you girls
will care to meet Paul Stewart—Anne’s brother, you know? I haven’t
seen him since he visited my apartment that winter, and was the
cause of Jack’s jealous feud.”
Jack and Polly laughed at the remembrance, but Eleanor eagerly
exclaimed: “Well, what about him?”
“Why, he is going with Fuzzy, to show what is in him. I, personally,
believe he will turn out to be one of our most valuable young men
down there. Anyway, he will have the chance of his life.”
“Oh, goody! goody!” cried Eleanor, clapping her hands excitedly.
Her friends smiled in sympathy, because they surmised, though
Eleanor never confided to any one, that she was more than interested
in Paul’s success for his _own_ future.
“Yes, Nolla, and that happy-go-lucky brother of yours—Pete Maynard,
is joining this group of engineers, too. That ought to make Dodo
happy, since she always thought he needed something besides money to
bring out the mettle he has in him,” added Mr. Dalken.
This was a genuine surprise to the others, because no one knew that
Dodo was acquainted with Pete Maynard. Dodo flushed and stammered:
“I met Pete the time Ma stopped in Chicago to enjoy society there.
Pete and I found a lot in common to talk of—you girls, and the
college friends we all know, with whom he went through the
engineering class.”
“Was that all you two had in common?” laughed Eleanor.
“Oh, well, we are both democratic, you know, and Pete is not as
attached to mere money as you all think he is. Anyway, Ma didn’t
approve of him, until she heard he was a Maynard of _the_ Maynards of
Chicago—a password to society, I’ll have you know, Nolla.”
“Don’t I know it, only too well! My mother and your Ma should have
been bosom friends, Dodo, because they think alike about so many
things. But, tell me; why did Pete never write me about knowing you,
Doe?”
“How can I answer that question? You must ask him when you reach
California,” laughed Dodo.
“There are so many important things waiting for us to do in
California, I can hardly wait to get there,” declared Polly.
The scenery across country from Phœnix to Barstow, where the
railroad branched for the two important points in California—San
Francisco being one terminus and Los Angeles the other—was
wonderful, and there was not much inclination to talk of other
things. The ride over the Mojave Desert seemed to take the tourists
from the New World and drop them upon the Sahara, or the great
tractless deserts of the East.
Having turned to the southern terminus, the train flew past great
orange groves, where, in places, the girls could have plucked the
fruit by stretching forth a hand from the windows. The fine palm
trees also grew close to the railway tracks, and the magnificent
flowers and ferns almost screened the train at places.
“My! It is just what I pictured it,” sighed Polly, with fervor. And
her friends agreed silently with her opinion.
There is no time in which to describe all the joys of that arrival
in California. Between days spent in continual pleasure-seeking, and
going sight-seeing to one place and another, the weeks passed away.
During the most of the time spent in Los Angeles, Mr. Dalken and his
two associates were deeply immersed in their business projects. Only
in the evenings and on Sundays did they take time to enjoy the
society of the girls and the ladies.
But the plan for the development was succeeding far beyond Mr.
Dalken’s hopes, and the three men were greatly elated at the
promises the future held for them. Mrs. Courtney felt a
corresponding glad relief, but Polly and Eleanor thought this was
due to her interest in Mr. Dalken.
Quite unexpectedly Mr. Dalken announced to his friends, one night,
that it would be necessary to go to San Diego for a time—a week, or
more. This was welcome news, because all wished to go there for a
visit, yet no one had felt it right to suggest it, because the plan
might interfere with the business plans of the men.
“We find there are a number of realty men in San Diego who will be
greatly interested in our proposition. Seeing that the farther south
we go in California, the nearer the scene of our future development
we are, it stands to reason that investors in Southern California
are more readily convinced of our ultimate success. They will be
enabled to open up better and larger fields of commerce between
these ports and those of Colombia, and having a great and powerful
organization to back up the South American development, makes the
new project secure for investment. So San Diego will be our next
stopping place,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“And you really feel certain now, Mr. Dalken, that we have no
further cause to worry over the result of this tremendous
speculation?” asked Mrs. Courtney, with an expression of relief.
Polly and Eleanor exchanged glances, for they were sure that she was
glad poor, dear Dalky would be relieved of the strain of making
good, but they were speedily destined to be surprised.
“Quite contrary to failure, dear Mrs. Courtney. You have every
promise of clearing thirty per cent this very moment, on all the
money you invested with us. Should you care to sell out your own
stock to-night, you would clear up a hundred thousand dollars. Even
my scatter-brained valet, lounging over there, did a clever thing
when he disobeyed my advice and got Fuzzier to invest most of his
capital in this company. As for the Latimers and Brewsters, Mr.
Maynard, the Ashbys, Evans, Fabians, and all along the line of our
tried and trusting friends, I am thankful to be able to announce
that their faith is not misplaced. But it made it doubly hard upon
me, when I learned how every one of them insisted upon risking their
money upon Fuzzier’s and my ‘high-flier,’ because I felt that it
would never do to lose an opportunity to turn a trick. Had I failed,
I am sure I would have blown myself to bits—to avoid facing my
friends. Thanks to Mrs. Courtney’s extensive list of acquaintances
throughout the western resorts where we stopped, and Fuzzier’s list
of financial magnates, to say nothing of my friends, and Alexander’s
associates, in land and mine deals, we now have interested the most
important, as well as the most intelligent representatives along the
line from Chicago to California. By the time the boys arrive in Los
Angeles, we will be back from San Diego, and all will be staged for
one great send-off to the travelers bound for Colombia.”
Thus Polly and Eleanor heard with amazement the cause of the
confidential chats between Mrs. Courtney and their adored Dalky, and
it is doubtful whether they would not have preferred to see the
“great plan” go to smash if by that means they might have heard an
engagement announced between their pet friends.
The visit to San Diego fulfilled its promise—not alone to the
financiers, but to the sight-seers as well. Ten days given to
outdoor sports at San Diego and touring to every possible point of
interest in or about the city, proved to be quite enough for the
girls.
Upon reaching Los Angeles once more, where they were to await the
young engineers, the girls admitted that they were almost ready to
retire to a sanatorium to recuperate from such an extended tour.
“There’s only one more city for us to clean up, girls,” was Mr.
Dalken’s encouraging reply. “When we get to San Francisco you will
have two months to do the town, and I shall have ample time in which
to use the magnet of our company upon the rich investors to be found
there. Fuzzy and Alex. will be in the land of magnificent ideals
before then, and their reports will help sell our remaining stock.
What an unusual and wonderful thing it would be if we were to
announce a paid-up capitalization for all our shares of stock before
we began operations down in South America!”
“Perhaps your success is due to the implicit faith and respect your
friends place in you and Mr. Fuzzier and Mr. Alexander,” remarked
Mrs. Courtney, with an admiring glance at Mr. Dalken.
“We thank you, fair lady, for your opinion,” returned he.
At this moment a bell-boy paged Mr. Dalken, and he beckoned him to
approach. It proved to be a telegram from Denver. Having permission
to do so, he opened it at once, and then read aloud. “Pete, Paul and
self leaving here for Los Angeles on night express. Tom Latimer.”
“Hurrah!” cried several voices in chorus. Jack grinned, then he
remarked teasingly: “I bet Polly and Nolla and Dodo will break their
necks trying to get those newcomers to propose to them before they
sail for South America. Poor girls—this tour must have been awful
with no one to admire them or make love to while away the dreary
days we’ve had!”
THE END
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLY IN THE SOUTHWEST ***
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
be renamed.
Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the
United States without permission and without paying copyright
royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
license, especially commercial redistribution.
START: FULL LICENSE
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
country other than the United States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website
(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
provided that:
* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation."
* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
works.
* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
receipt of the work.
* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
cannot be read by your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
without further opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
www.gutenberg.org
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website
and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without
widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
edition.
Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
facility: www.gutenberg.org
This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
