THE DESERT HUT
It was the nineteenth of December and the morning was bright and
sparkling. Margaret Selover stood on the wide veranda of the ranch
house, her eyes glowing with appreciation as she gazed across the
shimmering white desert and toward the mountains over which hung a
blaze of blue and gold.
“Ho, Virginia,” she called to the girl, who, hatless, came up from
the chicken yard, where she had been to scatter a breakfast to her
feathered pets, “it is hard for me to realize that it is nearly
Christmas and not a snow flake to be seen.”
“When we go up in the mountains after our Christmas tree, you will
see plenty of snow,” Virginia assured her. “Slim tells me that when
he rode over the Seven Peak range yesterday, it was snowing and
blowing a regular blizzard.”
“Oh, Virg, how nice! Are we going to have a truly Christmas tree? I
haven’t had one since mother and dad and I were all together.”
The other girl nodded. “Yes, indeed. We have a big tree every
Christmas for our own family and for the Slaters. One year we have
it here and the next to the Bar S Ranch. That makes quite a party,
for they have four cow-boys and we have two.” Then after a
thoughtful moment, Virginia added, “How I do wish that some kiddies
lived nearby. It would be heaps more fun to have children to skip
around a Christmas tree wouldn’t it, but there isn’t a chick or
child for ten miles around.”
At that moment Malcolm appeared. “Sis,” he said, “I have an
important letter to send. Would you and Margaret be willing to ride
over to the junction and mail it for me? I had planned going myself,
but Mr. Slater just phoned that he saw several of our prize
yearlings headed for the Mexican border, and so Rusty and I are
going at once to search for them and turn them back, for, if they
cross the line, we will never see them again. If we aren’t home
tonight, don’t worry, girls, for we will camp down that way until we
find them all.”
“Goodbye and good luck!” Margaret and Virginia called, as arm in arm
they stood watching the good looking boy as he swung into his saddle
and galloped away. Near the corral he was joined by Rusty Pete and
the two boys turned and waved their wide sombreros while Malcolm’s
horse reared and then plunged ahead, to the delight of the eastern
girl. “How I do hope Babs will see Malcolm ride some day,” she said
as they turned into the house.
Several weeks had passed since Margaret had attempted to ride
Comrade, and Malcolm had taken every opportunity that presented
since then to teach his ward to ride, and at last both gracefully
and fearlessly she rode every day with Virginia.
Half an hour after Malcolm had departed, the two girls in their
khaki riding habits (Margaret with a red handkerchief knotted about
her neck and Virginia with a blue) started riding along the trail
which led over the mesa, down into the dry creek and over toward the
mountains. They were about a quarter of a mile away from the Seven
Peak range when Virginia suddenly drew rein and gazed intently
ahead. Margaret looked wonderingly in the same direction but saw
nothing unusual.
“What is it, Virginia?” the eastern girl asked anxiously as she drew
rein by the side of her friend and gazed across the shimmering
desert.
“Has something startled you? What do you see?”
Margaret knew that Virginia’s desert trained eyes could perceive
things that were invisible to her. “It may be nothing at all to be
startled about,” Virginia replied, “but I overheard two cow-boys
talking yesterday. One of them had just ridden in from Douglas and
he said that an outlaw from Texas is hiding in the mountains. I did
not mention this to brother, for, had I done so, he would not permit
me to ride far from the house, and I am very sure that we can
protect ourselves. However, I do not wish to run into trouble
needlessly.”
“But what did you see that made you think this outlaw might be
near?” Margaret inquired.
Virginia turned toward her. “You, too, must train your eyes,” she
said. “Now look intently just to the left of the giant cactus, and
close to the foot of the mountains; then tell me what you see.”
Margaret shaded her eyes and gazed for a long time before she spoke.
“I think that I can see an old adobe hut,” she said softly. Then she
asked, “Is that what you wished me to see?”
Virginia nodded. “Yes, but what do you notice about it?”
“There might be smoke coming from the chimney,” Margaret replied,
“but it is so faint that at first I did not notice it.”
“When I tell you that the old crumbling adobe has been vacant for
many years and that it is absolutely unsafe as a habitation for
human beings of any kind, you will understand why I was so puzzled
to see signs of an occupant. The last family to live there was a
mountain lioness and her young, but I am sure that some human being
must be there now, for a lion could not start a fire.”
Virginia, fearing that she might have frightened the eastern girl,
said this merrily as she whirled her horse’s head away from the
mountains.
“We will take the sand hill trail,” she announced. “It is a mile
farther to the junction, but perhaps we would be unwise to ride
alone too close to the old adobe.”
“You really think that the outlaw might be hiding there?” Margaret
asked anxiously.
Virginia nodded. “It is a very lonely spot,” she said, “and so it is
quite possible.”
“What is an outlaw?” the eastern girl inquired as they rode side by
side toward the sand-hills.
“An outlaw is a man who has done something displeasing to his fellow
citizens. He is driven from his home state and it would not be safe
for him to return. Sometimes an outlaw is innocent of the charges
against him and is just a victim of unfortunate circumstances, but
one never knows, of course.”
Virginia, as she spoke, glanced back toward the old adobe which was
hardly visible from that distance; then, to Margaret’s surprise, she
drew rein, whirled about and once more gazed intently in that
direction.
“Virg, what do you see now?” Margaret inquired, for she herself
could see nothing.
For answer Virginia beckoned the eastern girl to follow, and then,
urging Comrade to top speed, she again galloped toward the mountains
and the old adobe hut.
Much puzzled, Margaret followed on Star.
What had Virginia seen, she wondered.