JACK MEETS A GIRL
The train soon began to move forward again, but it had to proceed
slowly, as it was on the wrong track, and a flagman had to precede it to
prevent a collision. It was tiresome traveling, and nearly every one
grumbled--that is, all save the boys. To them the affair was novel
enough to be interesting.
Finally they reached and passed the disabled freight train. As they
puffed past it a girl, who had come in from some car ahead with an
elderly gentleman, took a seat with him just across from where Jack sat.
"There, daddy," said the girl in a sweet, resonant voice that made Jack
look up quickly, "there's the train that made all the trouble. Now we'll
go more quickly."
"Are you sure, Mabel?" he asked.
"Why, yes, daddy. Didn't the conductor say that as soon as we passed the
broken freight train we would get on our regular track? You heard him."
"Yes, I know, but you can't always believe what these railroad men tell
you. They'd say anything to keep a passenger quiet. I'm nervous riding
in these cars. There may be a collision when we're on the wrong track.
Don't you think so?" he asked, turning to Jack.
"Why, no. I don't believe we're in any danger," replied our hero, and
his heart beat faster at the grateful look which the pretty girl flashed
at him from her brown eyes. "There is a flagman ahead of us, and we'll
soon be on the right track. There is no danger."
"I'm sure I hope so," went on the aged man. "I'm not used to this way of
traveling. A wagon, a horse, or hitting the trail for mine. I came out
of the front car, because I thought it would be safer here in case of a
collision. Don't you think so?" he asked anxiously.
"Of course," answered Jack reassuringly, and again the girl looked
gratefully at him.
"My name's Pierce," went on the timid man. "Dan Pierce. What's yours?"
"Oh, daddy!" exclaimed the girl. "Perhaps the young gentleman doesn't
want to tell his name."
"Why shouldn't he?" asked Mr. Pierce quickly. "Every one ought to be
proud of his name. I'm proud of mine. Dan Pierce it is. I'm an old
Western hunter, and this is my daughter Mabel. We've been East on a
visit, and we're going back. I'm glad of it, too. What's your name?" he
went on.
"Father," expostulated the girl, "perhaps he doesn't wish to tell."
"Oh, I haven't the least objection," answered our hero. "I'm Jack
Ranger, and these are some friends of mine."
"I'd like to know 'em," said Mr. Pierce quickly, and Jack introduced the
boys, the old hunter, in turn, presenting his daughter Mabel, who
blushed more than ever. But Jack thought her ever so much prettier when
the color surged up into her brown, olive-tinted cheeks.
"Going far?" asked Mr. Pierce.
"We're taking a hunting trip to the Shoshone Mountains," replied Jack.
"You don't say so? Why, that's where I lived and hunted for forty
years!" exclaimed Mr. Pierce. "That's where me and my daughter live.
About ten miles from Pryor's Gap. But my hunting days are over," he said
a bit sadly. "I have to settle down now and live in a house with Mabel
here."
Jack thought that was not at all a bad arrangement, and he stole a
glance at the girl. He caught her looking at him, and he felt the blood
mounting to his face, while he saw the blush spread again over her
cheeks.
"How long are you going to stay?" asked Mr. Pierce.
Then Jack told of the formation of the gun club, and how it happened
that they had a chance to come West on a late fall hunting trip.
"It makes me feel young again," declared Mr. Pierce as his eyes lighted
up. "I declare, I've a good notion to hit the trail again."
"Oh, you mustn't think of that, daddy!" exclaimed Mabel. "Remember, you
promised me you would stay home now and rest."
"Rest? I guess you mean rust," said Mr. Pierce, his deep-set eyes
sparkling with fun. "I sure would like to hit the trail again."
"We would be very glad to have you come along with us," said Jack. "We
have plenty of shelter tents, and lots of grub."
"I'd like it--I'd like it," said Mr. Pierce musingly.
"Daddy!" expostulated his daughter.
She shot a somewhat indignant glance at Jack for proposing such a thing,
but she was not angry.
"There, there, Mabel, of course I won't go," said her father. "I'll stay
home. My hunting days are over, I reckon, but I sure would like a chance
to wrassle with a bear or draw a bead on a mule deer or a fine big-horn
sheep. Say, if you boys ever get near Pryor's Gap I'll feel mortal
offended if you don't stop off and see us."
"We'll stop," promised Jack heartily, and he looked into Mabel's eyes,
whereat she blushed again, and Jack felt his heart strangely beating.
"Masquerading mud-turtles! but that's a fine view!" suddenly exclaimed
Nat, who was looking from a window. "You can see fifty miles, I'll
wager."
Mabel laughed heartily.
"What a funny expression!" she said. "Where did you get it?"
"Oh, he makes them up as he goes along," explained Jack, while Nat was
in some confusion.
"It must be some tiresome," observed Mr. Pierce, while his eyes twinkled
humorously. "But we sure do have fine views out here. You needn't be in
a hurry to look at 'em. There's plenty where you're going. But I meant
to ask you boys how do you calculate to travel after you get to Fort
Custer? I believe you said you were going there first."
"We are," replied Jack, "and from there we have arranged to go in wagons
to Sage Creek and across Forty-mile Desert."
"That's a good route," observed Mr. Pierce. "Who was you depending on to
tote your stuff across the desert?"
"Why, a man named Isaac Blender," answered Jack. "I wrote to him on the
advice of my father, who heard of him through some Western friends he
has."
"Oh, you mean Tanker Ike," said Mr. Pierce.
"Tanker Ike?" repeated Jack.
"Yes. You see, we call him that because he used to drive a water tank
across the desert to the mining camps. So you're going with Tanker Ike,
eh? Well, that's middlin' curious."
"Why so?" asked Sam.
"Because me and my daughter are going to take a short trip with him.
I've got a sister I want to visit before I go back to Pryor's Gap, and
Mabel and I are going in one of Tanker Ike's wagons."
"Maybe we can go together," spoke Jack quickly, and he glanced at Mabel,
who suddenly found something of interest in the scenery that was rushing
by.
"That's just what I was thinking," went on Mr. Pierce. "I'll give you a
proper introduction to Ike. Are you going to have a guide?"
"Yes," answered Jack. "I wrote to Mr. Blender about it, and he promised
to get an Indian guide for us. Do you think he can?"
"Oh, yes. There are plenty of Crow Indians that can be hired. I'll see
that he gets you a good one."
"Thank you," said Jack, secretly delighted that he could travel for some
time longer in Mabel's company.
The rest of the railroad journey seemed very short to Jack, and to his
chums also, for Mr. Pierce proved an interesting talker, and told them
many stories of camp and trail.
Finally they reached Fort Custer, found their camping outfit on hand,
with their guns, tents and other necessaries, and there was Tanker Ike
on hand to meet them.
"Hello, Ike!" called Mr. Pierce as he descended from the car.
"Well, bust my off wheel! If it ain't Dan Pierce!" exclaimed the other.
"Where did you drift in from?"
They greeted each other heartily, and then Mr. Blender approached Jack
and his chums, Mr. Pierce doing the introducing, which was hardly
necessary, as the man who was to pilot the boys across the desert was a
hearty, genial Westerner, whom to meet once was to feel well acquainted
with.
"And I want you to get these boys a good Indian guide," said Mr. Pierce.
"None of those lazy, shiftless beggars."
"I've got Long Gun for them," said Mr. Blender.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Pierce. "Long Gun is as good a Crow Indian as
there is. You'll be safe with him, boys."
"Sanctimonious scalplocks!" exclaimed Nat. "Are we going to travel with
a real live Indian?"
"That's what, son," replied Tanker Ike softly. "But don't let off any
more of them curious expressions than you can help. They might scare
Long Gun, and he's sort of timid--for an Indian," and Mr. Pierce joined
the wagon driver in a laugh.
"Well, if we're going to start we'd better be going," remarked Mr.
Blender at length. "Let's see. I guess I can get you all in one wagon,
and pack the grub and camp truck in another."
"Where will the Indian guide meet us?" asked Jack.
"The other side of the desert."
"Do you think he'll be there?"
"When Long Gun says a thing, it's as good as done," commented Mr.
Pierce. "Well, Mabel, climb up, and I'll get aboard in a few minutes."
Jack made a start for the wagon.
"Where you going?" asked Nat quickly.
"I'm going to get in, of course."
"But what about our stuff?"
"Oh, Mr. Blender will look after that, I guess."
Jack kept on, following close after Mabel, and he took a seat beside her
in the big wagon.
"Say, fellows," remarked Nat in a low voice to the other lads, "what do
you think of Jack?"
"He's got 'em bad," commented Sam. "But I don't know as I blame him.
She's awful nice."
"Cut it out! You're getting sentimental in your old age, Sam," objected
Bony, as he cracked a couple of knuckles for practice.