REDFORDS
"Is that all there is to the town of Redfords?" Jane gasped when the
stage, leaving Toboggan Grade, reached a small circular valley which was
apparently surrounded on all sides by towering timber-covered mountains.
A stream of clear, sparkling water rushed and swirled on its way through
the narrow, barren, rock-strewn lowland. The rocks, the very dust of the
road, were of a reddish cast.
"That road yonder climbs your mountain in a zig-zag fashion, and then
circles around it to the old abandoned mining camp." Then to Gerald, he
said: "Youngster, if you're pining for mystery, that's where you ought to
find one. That deserted mining camp always looks to me as though it must
have a secret, perhaps more than one, that it could tell and will not."
"Ohee!" squealed Julie. "How interesting! Gerry and I are wild to find a
mystery to unravel. Why do you think that old mining camp has secrets,
Mr. Packard?"
Smiling at the little girl's eagerness, the rancher replied: "Because it
looks so deserted and haunted." Then to Dan, "You heard what Gabby said
at the depot. Well, he did not exaggerate. A rich vein of gold was found
on the other side of your mountain, and a throng of men came swarming in
from everywhere, and just overnight, or so it seemed, buildings of every
description were erected. They did not take time to make them of
permanent logs, though there are a few of that description. For several
months they worked untiringly, digging, blasting, searching everywhere,
but the vein which had promised so much ended abruptly.
"Of course, when the horde of men found that there was no gold, they
departed as they had come. For a time after that a wandering tribe of Ute
Indians lived there, but the hunting was poor, and as they, too, moved on
farther into the Rockies, where there are many fertile valleys. Only one
old Indian, of whom Gabby spoke, has remained. They call him Slinking
Coyote. Why he stayed behind when his tribe went in search of better
hunting grounds surely is a mystery."
Julie gave another little bounce of joy. "Oh, goodie!" she cried. "Gerry,
there's two mysteries and maybe we'll find the answers to both of them."
"I would rather find something to eat," Jane said rather peevishly. "I
never was obliged to wait so long for my breakfast in all my life. It's
one whole hour since we left the train." She glanced at her wrist watch
as she spoke.
Mr. Packard looked at her meditatively. The other three Abbotts were as
amiable as any young people he had ever met, but Jane was surely the most
fretful and discontented. Although he knew nothing of all that had
happened, he could easily see that she, at least, was in the West quite
against her will.
"Well, my dear young lady," he said as he reached for her bag, "you won't
have long to wait, for even now we are in the town, approaching the inn."
"What?" Jane's eyes were wide and unbelieving. "Is this wretched log
cabin place the only hotel?" She peered out of the stage window and saw
two cowboys lounging on the porch, and each was chewing a toothpick. They
were picturesquely dressed in fringed buckskin trousers, soft shirts,
carelessly knotted bandannas and wide Stetson hats. Their ponies were
tied in front, as were several other lean, restless horses.
Mr. Packard nodded. "Yes, this is the inn and the general store and the
postoffice. Across the road is another building just like it and that has
a room in front which is used as a church on Sunday and a school on
weekdays, while in back there is a billiard room. There are no saloons
now," this was addressed to Dan, "which is certainly a good thing for
Redfords."
"Billiard room, church and a school house all in one building," Jane
repeated in scornful amazement. "But where are the houses? Where do the
townspeople live?"
Mr. Packard smiled at her. "There aren't any," he said. "The ranchers,
cowboys, mountaineers and summer tourists are the patrons of the inn and
billiard rooms. But here we are!" The stage had stopped in front of the
rambling log building and reluctantly Jane followed the others.
Mr. Packard held the screen door open for the young people to pass, then,
taking Jane's arm, he piloted her through the front part of the building,
which was occupied by the postoffice and store, to the room in the rear,
where were half a dozen bare tables. Each had in the center a vinegar
cruet, a sugar bowl, salt and pepper shakers. At least they were clean,
but the dishes were so coarse that had not Jane been ravenously hungry,
she told herself, she simply could not have eaten. Mr. Packard led the
way to the largest table, at which there were six places, and as soon as
they were seated a comely woman entered through a swinging green baize
door.
"Howdy, Mr. Packard?" she said in response to the rancher's cordial
greeting. "Jean Sawyer, your foreman, was in last night an' left your
hoss for yo'. He said as how he was expectin' yo' in some time today.
You've fetched along some visitors, I take it." The woman looked at the
older girl with unconcealed admiration. The blood rushed to Jane's face.
Was this innkeeper's wife going to tell her that she had never seen but
one other girl who was more beautiful? But Mrs. Bently made no personal
comment.
When Mr. Packard explained that his companions were the young Abbotts,
and that they were to spend the summer in a cabin on Redford Mountain,
her only remark was: "Is it the cabin that's been standin' empty so long,
the one that's a short piece down from where Meg Heger lives?"
"Yes, that's it, Mrs. Bently." Then the man implored: "Please bring us
some of your good ham and eggs and coffee and----"
"There's plenty of waffle dough left, if the young people likes 'em." The
woman smiled at Julie, who beamed back at her.
"Oh, boy!" Gerald chimed in. "Me for the waffles!"
The cooking was excellent and even the fastidious Jane thoroughly enjoyed
the breakfast.
When they emerged from the inn, Dan said, regretfully: "The sun is high
up. We've missed our first sunrise."
"We were on the Toboggan Grade when the sun rose," Mr. Packard told them.
He then shook hands with Jane and Dan as he said heartily:
"Here is where we part company. That is my horse over yonder. A beauty,
isn't he? Silver, I call him. By the way, Dan, I want you to meet Jean
Sawyer. He is just about your age, and a fine fellow, if I am a judge of
character. I would trust him with anything I have. In fact, I do. I send
him all the way to the city often, to get money from the bank to pay off
the men. I know he isn't dishonest, and yet, for some reason, he ran away
from his home. You know, we have a code out here by which each man is
permitted to keep his own counsel.
"We ask no one from whence he came or why. We take people for what they
seem to be, with no knowledge of their past."
Then, breaking off abruptly, the older man repeated: "I would, indeed,
like you to meet Jean and tell me what you think of him. Come over to our
place soon, or, better still, since that is a rough trip until you get
hardened to the saddle, I'll send him over to call on you next Sunday."
Dan's face brightened. "Great, Mr. Packard; do that! A chap whom you so
much admire must be worth knowing. Have him take dinner with us. Goodbye,
and thank you for being our much-needed guide."
When their neighbor and friend had swung into his saddle and had ridden
away, Jane said fretfully: "I don't see why you asked that Jean Sawyer,
who may be an outlaw, for all we know, to come over to our place for
dinner." Then, when she saw the expression of troubled disappointment in
her brother's face, again the small voice within rebuked her, and she
implored: "Oh, Dan, don't mind me! I know I am horridly selfish, but I am
so tired, and these people are all so queer. What are we to do next?"
The older lad knew what an effort Jane was making, and he held her arm
affectionately close as he replied: "Mr. Packard said that the stage
would call for us at 8:30. We will have half an hour to purchase our
supplies. Grandmother made out a list of things we would need. Julie has
that. Jane, here is my wallet. I wish you would take charge of our funds.
You won't be climbing around as I will. It will be safer with you."
Together the girls went into the store and purchased the supplies they
would need. Then they rejoined the boys, who had waited outside. Gerry
wanted to look in the school house.
The Abbotts found the door of the rambling log cabin across from the inn
standing open, and they peered in curiously. The room was long and well
lighted by large windows, but it was quite like any other country school.
There were eight rows of benches, one back of the other, with a
shelf-like desk in front of each. These had many an initial carved in
them. The teacher's table and chair faced the others, with a blackboard
hanging on the wall at the back. Near the door was a pail and a dipper.
Dan smiled. "It doesn't look as though genius could be awakened here,
does it?" he was saying, when a pleasant voice back of them caused them
to turn.
"You're wrong there, my friend." The young people saw before them a
withered-up little old man with the whitest of hair reaching to his
shoulders. Noting their unconcealed astonishment, he continued, by way of
introduction, "I am Preacher Bellows on Sunday and Teacher Bellows on
weekdays. Now, as I was saying, having overheard your remark, this little
schoolroom and the teacher who presides over it are proud to tell you
that your statement is not correct. It may not look as though genius
could be awakened here," he smiled most kindly. "I'll agree that it does
not, but that is just what has happened. Meg Heger, one of my mountain
girls, has written some beautiful things. Her last composition, 'Sunrise
From the Rim-Rock,' is truly poetical."
Jane turned away impatiently. Was she never to be through with hearing
about Meg Heger? "Brother," the manner in which she interrupted the
conversation was almost rude, "isn't that the stage returning? I am so
tired, I do want to get up to our cabin." She started to cross the
street. Dan quickly joined her. He did not rebuke her for not having said
goodbye to the teacher.
"He's a nice man, isn't he, Dan?" Gerald skipped along by his brother's
side as he spoke. "He loves mountain people, doesn't he?"
Dan smiled down at the eager questioner. "Why, of course, he must, if he
practices what I suppose he preaches; the brotherhood of man."
"Well, I certainly don't want to claim people like the ones we have met
in Redfords as any kin of mine," Jane snapped as they all crossed to the
stage that awaited them. Again the four white horses drooped their heads
and the driver slouched on his high seat, as though at every opportunity
they took short naps. But the horses came to life when the driver snapped
his long whip and with much jolting they forded the stream.
"Oh, my; I'm 'cited as anything!" Julie squealed. "Wish something,
Gerald, 'cause this is the first time we've ever been up our very own
mountain road."
"There's just one thing to wish for," the small boy said with the
seriousness which now and then made him seem older than his years, "and
that's that Dan will get well. What do you wish, Jane?"
"Why, the same thing, of course," the girl replied languidly.
Gerald continued his questioning. "What do you wish, Dan?"
The boy thought for a moment and then he exclaimed, "I have a wonderful
thing to wish. Wouldn't it be great if we could find the lost gold vein
on our very own ten acres? Then Dad could pay the rest that he owes and
be free from all worry?"
"Me, too," Julie cried jubilantly. "Now, we've all wished and here we go
up the mountain."
The road was narrow. In some places it was barely wide enough for the
stage to pass, and, as Jane looked back and down, she shuddered many
times.
At last, when nothing happened and the old stage did stick to the road,
Jane consented to look around at the majestic scenery, about which the
others were exclaiming. Beyond the gorge-like valley in which was
Redfords, one mountain range towered above another, while many peaks were
crowned with snow, dazzling in the light of the sun that was now high
above them.
The air was becoming warmer, but it was so wonderfully clear that even
things in the far distance stood out with remarkable detail.
At a curve, Gerald pointed to the road where it circled above them.
"Gee-whiliker! Look-it!" he cried excitedly. "How that boy can ride." The
others, turning, saw a pony which seemed to be running at breakneck
speed, but as the stage appeared around the bend, the small horse was
halted so suddenly that it reared. When it settled back on all fours, the
watchers saw that, instead of a boy, the rider was a girl, slender of
build, wiry, alert. She drew to one side close to the mountain, to permit
the stage to pass. She wore a divided skirt of the coarsest material, a
scarlet blouse but no hat. Her glossy black wind-blown hair fluttered
loosely about her slim shoulders. Her dusky eyes looked curiously out at
them from between long curling lashes. Dan thought he had never before
seen such wonderful eyes, but it only took a moment for the stage to
pass.
They all turned to look down the road. The pony was again leaping ahead
as sure-footed, evidently, as a mountain goat, the girl leaning low in
the saddle. Jane's lips were curled scornfully. "Well, if that is their
mountain beauty, I think they have queer taste! She looked to me very
much like an Indian, didn't she to you, Dan?"
The boy replied frankly: "I should say she might be Spanish or French,
but I do indeed think she is wonderfully beautiful. I never saw such
eyes. They seem to have slumbering soul-fires just waiting to be kindled.
I should like to hear her talk."
Jane shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I certainly should not. I have heard
enough of this mountain dialect, if that's what you call it, to last me
the rest of my life. I simply will not make the acquaintance of that--Oh,
it doesn't matter what she is--" she hurried on to add when she saw that
Dan was about to speak. "I don't want to know her, and do please remember
that, all of you!"
"Gee, sis," Gerald blurted out, "you don't like the West much, do you? I
s'pose you wish you had stayed at home or gone to that hifalutin watering
place."
Jane bit her lips to keep from retorting angrily. Julie was still
watching the small horse that now and then reappeared as the zigzagging
mountain road far below them came in sight.
"That girl's going to school, I guess. Though I should think it would be
vacation time, now it's summer," she remarked.
"I rather believe that winter is vacation time for mountain schools. It's
mighty cold here for a good many months and the roads are probably so
deep in snow that they are not passable."
Dan had just said this when Gerald, who had been kneeling on the seat,
watching intently ahead, whirled toward them with a cry of joy. "There's
our log cabin on that ledge up there! I bet you 'tis! Gee-whiliker, we're
stopping. Hurray! It's ours."