OLD FRIENDS ONCE MORE
In spite of persuasions, threats, and prophecies of good times to be
missed, the Ashbys and Fabians could not be induced to join the
proposed party to the Southwest. Mr. Ashby declared that he would
have to attend strictly to business after his long vacation, or
Polly and Eleanor would have the opportunity for which they said
they were waiting—the chance to succeed Mr. Ashby in his enviable
shops. Naturally, learning that her husband would not think of
leaving the city, Mrs. Ashby was firm in the decision to remain
home, too. Ruth did not wish to leave her mother, so that eliminated
the three Ashbys from Mr. Dalken’s list.
The Fabians were not to be cajoled into going west with the rest of
their friends, because they maintained that New York, being their
home, was the place for them to recuperate after the delightful
though lazy life on board the yacht. Mr. Fabian said that laziness
was a disease which must be cured by hard work for a time, if his
family hoped to live during the approaching winter. Nancy found keen
enjoyment in being with her old friends again, and so she preferred
to remain in the city.
Consequently Mr. Dalken’s party consisted of Polly and Eleanor, with
Mrs. Courtney as chaperon, and Jack Baxter. Mr. Dalken, of course,
since he was the prime leader on this tour. Where they would
eventually find themselves, no one knew, because that had not yet
been revealed to any one.
“All we now know is this,” laughed Mr. Dalken, the last night the
friends met at his apartment to bid the travelers good-by, “that we
are on our way, and that way may criss-cross the country many times
before we reach California.”
“But you promised us that we should see California, Dalky, because
there is where we are dying to go,” exclaimed Eleanor.
“California is a great state, my child,” declared Jack, paternally;
“and Hollywood is but one small section of it. I should not blame
poor Dalky, in the least, if he led you three aspirants for the
screen _away_ from Hollywood, instead of _to_ it.”
This was in the light of a revelation. “Ah!” laughed Mr. Dalken,
“now I understand why this intense eagerness to visit California for
an extended time. But let me warn you, fair ones—I shall see to it
that I am not deprived of my traveling companions just at the time I
shall have leisure to enjoy their society. Forewarned is forearmed,
you know.”
“Yes,” retorted Polly, “that adage is as good for us as for you,
Dalky.”
“Besides,” added Mrs. Courtney, shaking an accusing finger at Jack,
“it was that valet’s own proposition that we remain in Hollywood
long enough to have a fling at a movie! He thinks his handsome
person may find fame and fortune in posing before the cameras.”
The laugh now turned upon Jack, and he had no denial ready. Thus,
laughing and joking, the little group passed a merry evening, until
the Ashbys said it was time to say good-by and start for home. Soon
Mr. Dalken was left alone with Jack to complete the last few items
of their packing.
The following day found all baggage on the way west, and Mr. Dalken,
with his party, on board the Chicago Express, leaving New York
behind. When the forms upon the platform became a blurred spot,
Polly and Eleanor returned from the observation platform and sat
down with their friends, Mr. Dalken, Mrs. Courtney and Jack.
“Well, here we are,” declared Eleanor, “not a month since we landed
in the city, and off again for another jaunt.”
“I only hope this trip will prove to be as enlightening to you young
ladies as the last one must have been,” Jack replied.
“Enlightening! I do not understand you,” said Polly.
“Oh, geographically, I mean! You must admit, girls, that your ideas
of South America were completely reversed. Did you dream of finding
such transportation systems as we enjoyed—from Lake Titicaca to La
Paz, for instance? And then to behold such vast tracts of nerve
tonic as Nolla found up in the nitrate fields.”
The merry laugh which followed this remembrance,—now a funny
experience of the past, but once a most painful incident of
traveler’s luck—launched memory in reviewing other laughable
episodes, and many a smile and giggle drew the attention of other
passengers in the Pullman to the happy group.
After a delicious dinner in the dining-car, Mr. Dalken led his
protégés back to their compartments once more. Then he showed them
the sketch of a map he had made before deciding finally on this
journey.
“You can see by this map that we propose to stay in Chicago for a
few days, while I interview Fuzzier and his capitalists about the
Land Development Company. During those few days Eleanor will have an
opportunity to visit her home and family, and the others may visit
the Public Library and ascertain where the richest veins of ore can
be found in Arizona. It may prove advantageous, in case you decide
to stake claims which the United Verde Company overlooked.” Mr.
Dalken traced the pencil-line upon the paper, from Chicago to
Flagstaff, Arizona, and then showed his audience where the Verde was
to be found.
“But, Dalky, you do not propose to go straight to Arizona, after
leaving Chicago, do you?” asked Polly, wonderingly.
“Not unless you have good reasons to avoid going to Pebbly Pit,”
returned he, trying to control a smile, as he thought of Tom Latimer
eagerly awaiting Polly’s arrival.
Polly frowned. “The main reason of wanting to visit home was the
longing to see mother and father, and John and Anne.”
“Oh, yes! I see,” teased Jack. “Sary and Jeb have no part in your
life, and the star-boarder at Pebbly Pit has been forgotten, eh?” By
“star-boarder,” Jack referred to Tom, who, with John, had remained
on the premises to guard and superintend the mines and their output.
Polly flushed angrily, and Mrs. Courtney, thinking that the teasing
was becoming too personal, quickly changed the subject, by saying:
“Time to retire, I see. The porter wants to make up the berths.”
Every individual in their party had been flying around during the
past few days, and now that all necessity for haste and hurry was
over they felt the reaction. Hence, Mrs. Courtney’s suggestion to
retire was hailed without protest. There may have been those on that
train that passed a sleepless night, but not so with any one in the
Dalken group.
The next morning they realized that Chicago was nearer than they had
thought possible, because so much time had been given to sleep. So,
when Jack laughingly played the part of valet and gathered up the
bags in order to hand them to the colored porter, the girls gazed
from the windows to assure themselves that they were really pulling
in at the Chicago terminal.
Mr. Maynard had been wired that his daughter and others in her party
were to arrive in Chicago on the noon train, and the moment they
stepped from the car, he was seen to be awaiting them. In another
moment, Eleanor was being smothered against a broad, fatherly
breast, and the other friends were smiling sympathetically at Mr.
Maynard’s joy.
“Well, well, well! Where is my little tom-boy? I here behold a tall,
up-to-date young woman, whom I almost dread to hug,” exclaimed Mr.
Maynard, holding Eleanor off at arm’s length.
“Nothing of the kind!” retorted Eleanor, making a dive and throwing
both arms about her father’s neck. “If you have any compunction
about hugging in public, your daughter hasn’t!”
“I can verify that, Mr. Maynard,” added Mr. Dalken, smiling, to hide
his own feelings as he thought of his daughter, Elizabeth, and her
habitual aversion to him and his affection. “We find it very
embarrassing, at times, to control Nolla’s desire to hang about our
dignified necks.”
“Pooh!” was all the answer vouchsafed him. But Mr. Maynard laughed
happily—he would have laughed at any silly thing, so glad was he to
have his pet with him again.
The days in Chicago passed swiftly by for those who were to continue
on their way to Pebbly Pit. Mr. Maynard gave every moment of his
time to his guests,—they had been induced to accept his
hospitality, instead of going to a hotel,—and Mr. Dalken found
ample time in which to discuss finance with Mr. Fuzzier and the
select group of bankers he had interested in his plans to develop
the interior of Colombia. Mr. Maynard had already heard the inside
information of the scheme, and he had signed up to join the
speculators in this vast undertaking.
Finally came the day when Eleanor said good-by to her parents and
friends again, and the eager members of Mr. Dalken’s party started
on their way to Pebbly Pit.
How familiar seemed the prairie lands to Polly, as the train steamed
across the vast plains, and began to approach Denver! Then came a
hasty change from the Chicago Express to the local for Oak Creek,
and at last the travelers were on the final ride of that journey to
Polly’s ranch-home.
More than a year had passed since Polly had visited the mining
settlement, where the train stopped to accommodate passengers for
and from the surrounding country-side. And in that year great
progress had been made in the growth and improvement of the place.
Polly was astonished to see the mushroomlike rapidity with which the
two-story houses had replaced the shacks of the old town; and now
streets were laid out and lighted for the convenience of towns-folk,
as well as for the ranchers.
The Brewsters had come in full force to welcome the expected
friends, and joyous were the shouts of the young people, when all
were gathered upon the railway platform. In fact, so eager seemed
every one in that circle that no one paid heed to what the others
said—but each one laughed and talked effusively without regard to
subject.
Two huge ranch-wagons had been requisitioned to hold the happy
individuals now about to drive to Pebbly Pit; nor did any one notice
the rough trail, nor the long trip, before the first glimpse of
Rainbow Cliffs came to view.
Here Polly found the greatest change in her old environment: the
great grinding mill, the shafts which worked the apparatus used in
moving the tons of stones to the mills, and the small railroad train
and tiny engine which transported the rough jewels to the
packinghouse. And all this activity was well hidden from the sight,
by the natural depression of the Devil’s Causeway, with the peaks
called “The Imps” standing in front like a screen.
Polly seemed genuinely glad to see Tom Latimer again, and Tom’s
heart leaped high when he realized that his beloved seemed inclined
to treat him kindly once more.
Tom had been taking lessons of Anne, since his farewell to Polly at
Palm Beach—now seemingly such a long time ago! And it promised a
relieved frame of mind for Polly, if Tom would but adhere to Anne’s
repeated advices and instructions to him. That remained to be seen!
[Illustration: SARY CAME BOUNDING OUT TO MEET THEM.]
As the ranch-wagons stopped at the wide porch of the solidly-built
house which Polly remembered so well, Eleanor and she gazed in
wide-eyed astonishment at the _smallness_ of the structure. It had
been remembered as being a large, low building; but after all their
tours of Europe, South America, and the recent views of the New York
and the Chicago sky-scrapers, Polly’s old home seemed almost too
small to accommodate all these visitors.
Sary came bounding out of the kitchen door, much the same Sary as
the one who had welcomed Eleanor and her sister the day they first
arrived at Pebbly Pit. Then Jeb shuffled up with a sheepish
expression to greet the new-comers. Mr. Dalken knew just how to
reach the hearts of others, and he shook hands with Sary and Jeb,
saying, as he did so, that he had a token from South America for
them in his baggage. That gave him the place of honor, during that
visit to the ranch.
Mr. Alexander had been at the gold mine all that week, and John
explained to the eager questioners that he would be back the
following morning. He had been determined to attend personally to
such interests at Choko’s Find as might be bettered by his presence
and expert advice; and, since he would be absent so long on the
proposed trip to Arizona, he thought it best to forego the pleasure
of being present when the guests arrived at the ranch.
The next two weeks sped swiftly by, and then came the time when,
business conferences over between the men, the Dalken party, with
Mr. Alexander taking the place of guide instead of Mr. Dalken, were
on the eve of departure for Arizona and new adventures in the
southwest.
“We’ll be wondering what you are doing to-morrow, this time,”
remarked Polly, _apropos_ of her mother’s saying that the place
would seem deserted after the young folks had gone.
“Tom will be able to keep us informed upon those points,” was Mr.
Alexander’s reply. “He is well-acquainted with the ranch-rule, and
all we have to do, when we need information, will be to ask him what
time the folks do this, or what are the home-people doing now.”
Polly looked surprised and failed to grasp Mr. Alexander’s meaning.
Eleanor must have sensed it, however, for she quickly exclaimed:
“Will Tom be sitting at a radio-instrument, or does he carry a
pocket-telephone around with him, that he can answer the moment we
wish to call him up?” She laughed, but her words showed she wished
to be given a cue to Mr. Alexander’s speech.
“Why, no! Tom will be right beside you to reply, if you are kind
enough to permit it,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“Tom! You don’t mean he is going with us, do you?” asked Polly, too
amazed to disguise her annoyance.
At this tone, Tom forgot Anne’s wise admonitions and flared up in
anger. “Yes, I am! I find that every one but you seems anxious to
have my company on this excursion, because they understand that I am
of some value to them. However, that need not interfere with _your_
happiness,—I’ll take mighty good care not to come within ten rods
of you, when it can be helped!” Polly was so astonished at Tom’s
irritation and his words that she stared at him in silence. Eleanor
almost laughed outright at the expression upon her chum’s face.
Jack mumbled something about “The worm hath turned,” and Mrs.
Courtney gave him a vicious dig in the ribs to silence him. Then she
whispered behind Polly’s back: “You’ll go and ruin everything, you
rascal!”
Tom now got up and, saying “Good-night,” stalked from the room. No
one saw him again that evening, and in the early morning, when the
heavy wagon drew up to the steps for the visitors, Tom was already
seated beside Jeb. It developed, then, that he had said good-by to
the Brewster family before the Dalken party had appeared for
breakfast.
During the long drive over the trails which led to Oak Creek, Tom
devoted his attention to Jeb. When the wagon pulled up at the
horse-trough near the station, Tom shook hands with Jeb and sprang
down to assist Mrs. Courtney in alighting. Then he escorted her to
the platform and stood conversing with her until the local steamed
into the station. He had not spoken a word to Polly since the
previous evening.
In the train, he seated himself beside Mrs. Courtney and entertained
her with accounts of the tremendous undertaking of safely mining the
gold ore from Choko’s Find on Grizzly Slide. In fact, so well did he
fulfill his part, that that lady voted him one of the most
intelligent and courteous young men she had ever met. At the same
time she could not understand how Polly Brewster could help loving
Tom with all her heart. He was handsome, well-bred, highly educated,
and had all the money a girl might crave—and best of all, he had
loved her with the earnestness, persistence, and whole-mindedness of
his one-track heart.
“Well, I’m going to see to it that that girl has her eyes opened
during this trip!” thought Mrs. Courtney to herself.
But Polly and Eleanor were whispering between themselves, and their
plotting might be considered along the same lines as those of the
chaperon. Mr. Dalken, engrossed with Mr. Alexander, had left the
girls to choose between Jack’s society or exchange personal
confidences; they chose the latter as being the lesser of two
tiresome evils. Hence Jack went forward to smoke, and the two girls
began to plan just how they might bring about a settled state of
affairs between Mrs. Courtney and their dear friend, Mr. Dalken.
“We ought to have clean sailing in the next few months, Nolla,” said
Polly. “No other man or woman to interfere in the match, you know.”
“But Dalky will be so taken up with schemes, and going off to
investigate holes in the ground, that Mrs. Courtney will feel
disgusted.”
“‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder,’” quoth Polly, laughing.
“Just because he won’t always be at beck and call, and because he
compares so favorably with other men, it will be an incentive to her
love—if she feels any.”
“If! There’s that awful ‘if’ in the way!” sighed Eleanor.
“Well, anyway, Nolla, we ought to be able to find out one of two
things on this western trip—whether she does love him, or whether
she doesn’t! I’m not so sure but that daily companionship on board a
private yacht is coma to spontaneous love. You can always tell, from
day to day, just what is about to happen, and who will be in the
party. Now, out here, where great things occur frequently, these two
may discover how dear each is to the other. I’ve known hurricanes,
land-slides, and little things like that, to be instrumental in
opening the eyes of lovers.” Polly spoke as though the “trifles”
just mentioned were casual incidents in a westerner’s life.
Eleanor laughed. “I’m from the Windy City, Poll, but I’m sure we
wouldn’t consider a hurricane or an Omaha cyclone ‘little things’ to
help on a love-affair. Better let nature take its course.”
So plotted two pairs of match-makers: the two girls on the one side,
and Mrs. Courtney and Tom (who felt intuitively that he had a
champion in her) on the other side. Which pair would win the first
place, in successfully bringing about an understanding, in regard to
the others remained to be seen—there also remained the long winter
in balmy Arizona, during which the two affairs might thrive
splendidly. Who could tell?