MARGARET’S REPLY
Virginia was right in believing that she would receive a reply from
their unknown ward as soon as one could possibly reach them. She had
counted the days that her own letter would require for its journey
east, and then had allowed one in between, and so, at last, the day
had dawned when she might reasonably expect to hear from the unknown
Margaret.
Luckily Rusty Pete was in town and would bring the mail if there was
any. Virginia, as she went about her household tasks that morning,
skipped often to the wide front veranda and looked up the mesa. A
huge cactus growing at the top of the trail stood like a silent
sentinel and around this a horse and rider soon appeared.
As the girl hoped, it was one of their two faithful cow-boys. “Good
morning, Rusty Pete,” she called, as he rode alongside of the wide,
shady porch. “Have you letters for me?”
“I reckon I have, Miss Virginia. ’Pears to me a couple is stowed
away somewhar’s.” As he spoke, the cow-boy thrust a lean, brown hand
into his deep leather pocket, then, with a sudden smile that
wonderfully illumined his rugged wind and sun bronzed face, he
removed his wide sombrero and drew forth two letters that were very
unlike each other in appearance.
“Didn’t pack the pouch ’long this time,” he explained, “so put ’em
thar for safe keepin’.”
The girl laughed. “Thank you, Rusty Pete,” she said, and then the
long, lank cow-boy rode on toward the corral.
After glancing at the name in the upper left hand corner of the
lilac scented and tinted envelope, Virginia uttered a little excited
ejaculation, and, catching her wide hat from the top step, she raced
down the trail to the fenced-in enclosure where Malcolm was busy
filling the trough near the windmill for the yearlings were soon to
be driven in from the range.
“What ho?” he called when he saw the figure flying toward him. The
girl waved the two unopened letters and Malcolm, equally interested,
vaulted the bars and stood at her side.
“Has our ward written?” he inquired merrily. “Is she eager to be the
adopted daughter of an elderly rancher?”
There was a shade of anxiety in the violet eyes that were lifted to
him. “Brother,” she said, “I wonder if we did wrong to deceive
Margaret. Of course it was merely to be a temporary arrangement. If
she comes, Uncle Tex is to play the role of elderly guardian, that
is, if he can be persuaded to do so, then you, as cow-boy, and I, as
housekeeper, will have a splendid opportunity to become acquainted
with our ward and find out what manner of girl she really is.”
While Virginia had been talking, she had opened the tinted envelope.
One glance at the very short note and her merry laughter pealed
forth.
“Brother, Margaret actually refuses to come. Well, we surely may
thank whatever kindly fate has delivered us from having this young
tornado in our home.” Virginia handed the letter to Malcolm as she
spoke.
The other long white envelope she glanced at casually, and,
believing it to be the usual monthly report from their lawyer’s
office, she did not open it, but waving farewell to her brother, who
had again vaulted the bars, Virginia returned to the house and to
her morning tasks.
It was half an hour later before she recalled the long legal looking
envelope.
“I might as well skim it over,” she thought, “and then I can tell
Malcolm about it and he will not need to take the time to read it.”
Dropping down into a comfortable cushioned wicker chair out on the
veranda, Virginia leisurely opened it. Her thoughts were wandering
when she began to read, but suddenly she sat erect and stared at the
typed page. Then she re-read it slowly from the beginning to be sure
that she had really understood its purport.
Shags, the big collie dog, lying nearby, half dozing in the sun was
startled to see his mistress leap to her feet and tear madly down
the trail toward the corral. Believing that he might miss something
of unusual interest if he did not follow, he raced after, barking
and bounding.
Malcolm looked up in surprise. “Ho Sis,” he called, “had you
overlooked a postscript in our ward’s letter? Is she coming after
all?”
Then noting how pale was his sister’s face, he hastened to her side.
“It’s a letter from Mr. Benton, our father’s lawyer. I don’t
understand business matters as you do, and perhaps I do not rightly
comprehend the meaning of this. I sincerely hope I do not.”
But Virginia had rightly understood. Mr. Denton, their lawyer in
Douglas had written:
“Dear young friends:—
“This morning a letter was received by me that you may be able to
interpret better than I can. I did not know that your father had
been appointed guardian of a girl named Margaret Selover, but the
letter which I have this day received from an eastern law firm
informs me that the income which has been sent, since her father’s
death, to this young girl, has been abruptly discontinued as the
mines from which it is derived are no longer paying.
“Since Miss Selover is referred to as your father’s ward, I presume
that she is residing with you, and so I thought best to communicate
with you at once.
“Trusting that the deprivation will be but temporary,
“I remain,
“Your faithful friend and adviser,
“Harry L. Benton.”
“Which means?” Virginia’s tone was one of inquiry.
“Which means that we will have to lasso that young tornado and bring
her here, whether or not she wishes to come,” was the dismal reply,
“for surely, you and I, Virg, cannot afford to pay Miss Selover’s
tuition at a fashionable seminary.”
“No, we cannot,” his sister agreed, then—“Shall I write to poor
Margaret and tell her the sad news?”
“I think the ones to be pitied are Virginia and Malcolm,” the lad
spoke vehemently, “but, there is no alternative. Write the letter
and I’ll take it to Silver Creek Junction. I’m going that far right
after lunch to help drive in the yearlings.”
A week later another letter bearing the Vine Haven postmark arrived
on the desert. With a heavy heart Virginia opened it, and after a
hurried perusal, she decided that “lassoing the young tornado” as
her brother had called their ward, was not to be a pleasant pastime.
“My dear Mr. Davis,” she read:
“Your letter came this morning informing me that my income has
ceased. I believe that to be an absolute untruth, a ruse to try to
force my obedience to your will. Of course you have accomplished
your end for I am too proud to remain at this seminary unless I can
pay my tuition, but I warn you, my stay with you will be no longer
than absolute necessity requires and it will in no way add to your
happiness to have a rebellious girl in your home.
“I hope that you will reconsider and send my allowance which is
already one week over due.
“Margaret Selover.”
“Whew-oo!” Malcolm’s whistle was one of mingled astonishment and
amusement.
“I feel about as I did when I broke in Wild Fire, Virg,” he said,
his grey eyes twinkling at the recollection. “I had never before met
a spirit so untamed.”
Virginia laughed. “This defiant young lady would not feel
complimented to have her temper compared to a bucking broncho,” she
said, “but I suppose that come she must, until she is old enough to
be self-supporting, but my heart aches for her. I am almost inclined
to tell her the whole truth. Shall I?” The violet eyes were moist
and imploring, but the lad shook his head.
“Let’s carry out our original plan first. We may even yet find a
loop hole of escape.”
Slowly and thoughtfully, Virginia walked back over the well worn
trail to the ranch house. She was planning the letter which later
was written and mailed.