With that efficiency so marked in large establishments (for El Capitan
was large and really an establishment) the new arrangements of driving
over the hills for Judith Stearns, Jane’s college room-mate, and the
preparations Aunt Mary was wont to add to the already splendidly
planned guest entertainment, were all perfected and carried out without
so much as exciting Pedro to complain of his delayed supper, and its
consequent effect on “the game” that was to follow.
“I am so glad,” Aunt Mary murmured. “Now I shall have a chance to see
Jane’s most intimate companion, and it will afford me such an
opportunity of studying the dear girls, and thus being better able to
understand them. I have always wished that Jane might have had some
playmate of her own kind, and she is so very fond of Judith, I shall be
delighted to know her also.”
It seemed to the busy little woman that Jane and her father were
scarcely gone when a shrill blast of the trumpet announced their
return.
With a flourish the coaching party drew up to the porch. The delight of
the girls was so evident Mr. Allen and his sister hurried through the
formalities of welcome to leave the chums alone together.
“Now, we will just leave you all to yourselves,” he concluded, when
Aunt Mary had directed the man to carry in the bags, and ordered the
maid to announce dinner in twenty minutes, that length of time being
demanded by Jane as necessary for Judith’s freshening up. Arms twined
around shoulders, eyes reflecting each other’s very thoughts, chatting
and laughing over happenings absolutely foreign to those outside the
charmed circle of college interests, the chums entered upon their
period of pre-school and post-vacation days.
“And to think I might have missed all this if I had not thought of you
and the copper mines,” Judith was saying as Jane fastened the snaps on
her light silk “freshen up” gown. “You know, Janie, I am just as
forgetful as ever, only I have a new system: I don’t forget the things
I love best.”
“I will agree you may indulge that habit to the limit, Judy, if you
stick to your professed plan. Then I know I shall never get in the
jumble of mixups with things you don’t love,” Jane affectionately
assured her.
“I don’t wonder you hated to leave home for school, Jane,” said the
visitor, surveying the rustic beauty of the rambling house, built
unlike a California bungalow, and unlike an Eastern mansion, but
exactly like what should be the home of Jane Allen. “This is absolutely
charming.”
“What?” asked Jane teasing. “Our Jap boy cook, or our Mexican boy
valet? We have a queer household. Quite cosmopolitan, to put it mildly.
Sometimes, when they get excited, I fancy the Tower of Babel has fallen
anew. Come on, that means dinner,” as the big Indian gong pealed softly
its muffled announcement.
The tall girl with the blue eyes and glossy brown hair, Judith Stearns,
possessed a certain dignity Jane had not yet acquired. Perhaps that was
the result of her Eastern home life and its culturing influence. As
Henry Allen critically, if surreptitiously, noted Jane was different,
but he liked Jane first rate. She might be a little bit of a tom-boy
around the ranch, but she was a great pal to build up a home with. The
two girls took their places side by side at the long polished table,
Aunt Mary gracing the head and Mr. Allen sitting at the opposite end,
from where he not only dispensed the plentiful fare, but irradiated the
charm of the gracious and well seasoned host that he was.
“Janie, your favorite troubador has a little gift for you,” he
interposed. “I could not guess what all his apologies and _con grazias_
presaged the other day, but finally he admitted he had made for the
senorita a small music box. It is from the best grade cigar case, and
has the finest antelope string. He drew his fingers across it to assure
me, and it really made very sweet music.”
“Oh, a home made ukelele! How splendid!” exclaimed Jane. “I shall take
it to Wellington, and maybe my little Polish artist can sing to its
accompaniment! I am just wild about those little ukes. Daddy, when will
Fedario deliver it?”
“It was not quite finished,” replied Mr. Allen. “I fancy he is going to
decorate it with perforations to sieve the tones very, very fine. He
went into the ranch store with me yesterday, and bought a little scroll
saw. Fedario is very musical. The boys complain he sings to the horses,
and that the animals expect it from the less accomplished, who are more
apt to growl than warble. At any rate, I notice he gets along with the
wildest broncos. But his talent for music is marked. He goes off in the
trees, and is better satisfied with his guitar than another might be
with a whole flock of companions and their unfailing energy at cards.”
“Oh, yes,” Jane remembered, “he must be the boy Uncle Todd said kept
him awake nights, singing in the chair tree at his hut. But Judy, can
you imagine my uke sounding weird strains, under windows and behind
closet doors? We will surely be able now to capture Calliope for stunt
nights, with my Mexican ukelele.”
“Yes. And I just know you will play wonderful ditties on it. I heard
them in Frisco—the girls from Hawaii gave a concert at a carnival, and
they brought out some splendid music from the little fiddles.
Personally, I feel I should have to use a can opener, but you know how
popular the uke is now, Janie. I can just see you carrying it around
like Fido, and sleeping with it at the foot of your bed, on your
baby-blue silk quilt.”
This vision brought a ripple of mirth from the diners. That the uke
should become as popular as the lap dog was admitted by all who had
observed the average young girl’s growing love for the miniature music
box.
“I have to tell you so much more of my new plans, Judy,” digressed
Jane, as Aunt Mary signalled to the Jap dinner was finished. “I have
only just begun on my new prospectus. I haven’t even named my little
artist.”
“I am sure we will have the best year ever,” replied the guest. “We
have had Adrienne, the French girl, and a couple of other high-class
Europeans last year, but we have never before entertained a Polish
girl. I know perfectly well how the Marian Seaton crowd will regard
her. With horns, you can be sure.”
“Oh, I have counted on that,” Jane admitted. “All the more room for
fun. If our new friend is not too sensitive,” and the gray eyes
expressed just the least glint of suppressed anxiety.
“Indeed, we are equal to the opposition now, no matter what attack they
take. It is a wonder to me they don’t promptly capitulate.”
“Too much steam in the wrong valve,” informed Jane. “It has to be drawn
off in the trouble pipe.”
“Or might result in an explosion,” helped out Mr. Allen. “Janie, I
suppose you often get your mining efficiency mixed with your
psychology.” He turned to Judith hospitably. “Miss Stearns, I cannot
tell you how pleased we are that you have been able to make this visit.
Janie and I were just about at the end of our rope on the trail of a
good time, when we got your wire. Now we have an incentive, for we both
love to show off, don’t we, Janie?”
“I’ll match you, Dad,” she challenged. “I believe I can show off more
high spots around El Capitan than you can. I even know how to catch
copper in tin cans.”
At this all laughed. Janie had made a reputation early in her ranch
life following the boys who staked claims and attempted to work the
mines with purloined tin cans.
“I thought perhaps we would arrange a little party to go into Union
Centre for to-morrow if you care to, girls,” Aunt Mary injected. “The
Indians are in, and we may find some trinkets suitable for souvenirs.”
“Splendiforous, Auntie. I want a couple of baskets so much, and some
bead bags to take back. I think I’ll give the faculty all pretty bead
bags, as vacation gifts.”
“Peace offerings,” suggested Judith. “I think that a fine idea. Wonder
if I couldn’t find a bag with an apology beaded on it? I owe one to my
Latin teacher.”
“Well, the evening is slipping, or climbing, whichever you choose,
young ladies, and I am going to run around the corral to do a little
inspecting to-night. Would you care to go?” asked Mr. Allen.
“Oh, I should love to!” exclaimed Judith with enthusiasm. “I have
always longed to see a ranch outside the movies. Jane, I had no idea
you owned all Montana.”
“We really do not quite own the entire state,” replied Jane, echoing
the facetious tone of her chum. “But dad has quite a corner of it. Yes,
we will go with you, Dadykins, and maybe Judy will have an opportunity
of judging Fedario’s talent. He is sure to be in the chair-tree with
his guitar. Dad, why don’t you organize a glee club?”
“No need to organize, daughter, the boys have one in splendid working
order. Perhaps we will be able to have a concert from them before you
leave.”
“Oh, how jolly! Jane, how do you think we will ever be able to tear
ourselves away from all this? Couldn’t we start a home-study course, or
something outside?” pouted Judith.
Donning their brilliant sweaters, the girls were soon ready, and taking
their places in the buck-board set out to assist in the inspection.
Within the corrals the shouting of the cowboys, and the antics of
broncos and ponies, presented a scene quite like the Wild West of the
screen world. Jane and Judith were in their glory. Jane with the joy of
exhibiting the “High Spots of Ranch Life,” she had promised, and Judith
with the exhilarating delight of observing such wonders for the first
time.
“And to think I might have missed it all,” she reflected in Jane’s ear,
when a dash of the ponies brought them up to the end of the fenced-in
patches of dust, noise and horses. “I had not planned to stop off
until—Can you guess what made me think you lived somewhere near the
Montana trail?”
“Oh, of course. Butte, pronounced ‘beaut’?” ventured Jane, and even
Henry Allen considered the guess worthy of a prize. And he said so.
This particular evening, the prelude of a series that followed, there
was carried out a program of such enjoyment, that one would easily
agree with Judith, it would be hard indeed for the girls to tear
themselves away from the ranch life to take up the circumspect duties
of college. The excitement of actually bargaining with the Indians and
obtaining the souvenir beaded bags (although none with an abject
apology worked in its intricacies was to be found for Judith), then the
dear moccasins, about which Mr. Allen coaxed the squaws to tell such
quaint fables, not to speak of the mysteriously woven baskets, made big
enough and small enough for any imaginable dressing or sewing use, when
all garnered and gathered made up a precious burden for the depot cart
in which the El Capitan party rode home that wonderful summer
afternoon.
“Couldn’t we stop at Squaw Squatty’s, Daddy? I would love to have the
old Indian tell Judy’s fortune,” Jane suggested.
“Oh, yes, do,” pleaded Judy. “I want so much to know about a big secret
I have planned for the first half,” she volunteered. “Jane, I’ll tell
you about it, maybe. But I should like to know how it will all pan out,
and I’m sure a squaw would be able to foretell,” she ventured, with a
sly grimace at Aunt Mary.