MALCOLM’S GREAT NEWS
The next day was a busy one at the V. M. Ranch, for a crate of fruit
arrived for Virginia and she preserved and canned until at last the
grandfather clock in the living-room chimed the hour of five. Then
she stood back and proudly surveyed row after row of jars, some
golden and others glowingly ruddy.
Then, taking off her all-over apron, and donning her wide felt hat,
she thought that to get a breath of the cool evening air, she would
ride toward the Slater Ranch and meet her brother who would soon be
returning.
Uncle Tex saddled Comrade for her, and then stood watching as his
beloved “gal” cantered away toward the mesa. She turned to wave to
him when she reached the sentinel cactus which stood with two
branches outstretched like defending arms that were covered with
long prickly thorns.
She drew rein when she reached the highest point and sat on her
red-brown pony watching the glory of the setting sun. At last when
the golden light had left all but the highest mountain peaks, and
deep shadows were purpling the canons, she beheld silhouetted
against the after glow, a horseman approaching at a gallop.
Believing it to be her brother, she rode down the trail to meet him.
Malcolm, she realized, was hilariously excited about something, for
every now and then he snatched off his sombrero and waved it to the
waiting girl.
“News! Great news!” he shouted as he drew near.
“What is it?” Virginia asked as she wheeled her pony about and side
by side they rode toward home through the deepening dusk.
“I’ll give you three guesses.” This had been their way of telling
news items to each other from their earliest childhood.
“Oh brother, don’t make me guess it this time. I just know that it
is something of unusual interest,” the girl implored.
“It is.” This in Malcolm’s most tantalizing manner. “Well, I’ll give
you a hint. It’s something about the coming of our young tornado.”
“Oh.” Virginia’s expression brightened. “Have you heard of someone
who will escort her from the East?”
“Righto, Sis, you’re doing splendidly, but who?”
They were descending the narrow trail from the mesa, and, since
Virginia was in the lead, she could not see the elated expression on
the face of her brother.
“Um-m, let me see,” she replied thoughtfully. “May I have five
minutes to think?”
“I’ll give you until the Dry Creek is crossed,” was the merry reply.
They rode on in silence while Virginia’s thoughts were busy trying
to solve the mystery. Of course Malcolm must have heard of this
possible escort during his day at the Slater Ranch while rounding up
the steers that were to be sent to Chicago.
“Oh, I have it!” she whirled about in her saddle to exclaim
exultingly.
“Some one, of course, is to accompany the car-load of steers to the
big city and that some-one will meet Margaret there and escort her
back to Douglas.”
“Congratulations sister! Now, since you are so clever at guessing
tonight, suppose you tell me _who_ is to go with the cattle.”
“Malcolm Davis, I do believe that you are,” the girl instantly
declared. “There’s a ring in your voice which convinces me that you
are at last to have the opportunity for which you have so longed.
Are you now old enough to be trusted on so important a mission?”
“Mr. Slater thinks so. He asked me to go,” the lad replied
jubiliantly, as he swung from his saddle, “but wait until after
supper and then I will tell you my plan.”