Polly in the Southwest by Lillian Elizabeth Roy - HTML preview

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CHAPTER V
 IMPROMPTU AMUSEMENTS

Mr. Dalken’s plan met with such approval that the girls slept until late the morning that the Pullman had been dropped at the side-track in Santa Fé. When they were roused finally by the porter, they found Jack waiting impatiently for them to dress and follow him to the hotel. Mrs. Alexander seemed to have recovered entirely from her annoyance of the previous evening, and Algy apparently had forgotten there had been any disturbance in the harmony of the touring party.

“Algy, dear,” said Mrs. Alexander, sweetly, as she motioned to her numerous pieces of baggage, “when you take these from the car, don’t drop any. I have valuable things in each bag.”

“But, Ma, the Pullman porter will look after the luggage,” was Dodo’s reminder.

“Not mine! thank you. I wouldn’t allow one of those strangers to handle one of my bags. In this desert land, I could never replace my cosmetics and toilet articles. Algy loves to oblige me, so why disappoint him?” was Mrs. Alexander’s tart reply.

Algy said nothing, but he gathered the bags in both feeble hands as well as he could. Then Jack, taking pity on his futile efforts to hold them all, waited for Mrs. Alexander to march off towards the door, before he tied the seven leather bags together with an end of rope which the porter had handed him. Thus Algy could swing them over his back, but it was a heavy load for one so slender and limp.

“Oh, Jack! Why don’t you carry some of them?” asked Eleanor.

“Why should I? I’m paying the Pullman porter to take all the luggage, and now that Algy is so easy that he does whatever Mrs. Alex. asks of him, let him obey. I am not that kind.”

“But he looks as though he might break in half,” laughed Polly.

“May be a good turn for him—put some bone and brawn into his frame,” chuckled Jack, watching Mrs. Alex.’s obedient follower toddle along the platform at the heels of the owner of the bags.

As the cabs carried the tourists to the leading hotel of Santa Fé, the girls were interested in looking at the interesting sights of the old Spanish city. Jack knew no more about the points of interest than they did, but he pretended to do so, and he drew their attention to the plaza—not easily mistaken for anything else; and he told them a certain old church was the Cathedral of San Francisco, when it really was the Church of San Miguel—but the girls did not find this error out until later.

That first day was spent in visiting the quaint old city and its ancient buildings and the new museum and art gallery. Then the second day was devoted to an auto trip along the scenic road of the Pecos River, through the forests of the Pecos, as far as the forest rangers’ headquarters at Panchuela. That evening they stopped at Bishop’s Lodge for supper, and drove back to Santa Fé in the clear moonlight.

They had preferred driving in a large seven-passenger car, instead of using two smaller autos, and the young folks felt merry and high-spirited as they crowded into their seats upon leaving the Lodge. Soon after they started along the fine highway to Santa Fé, Jack began to hum a popular air, and soon the three girls were singing the words. Algy listened, but he never opened his lips, and the expression upon his face seemed to say that he disapproved of jazz-time songs.

At the end of the song Jack turned and spoke to Algy. “What’s the matter with your vocal chord, A. A. A.? Has it broken, or can’t you sing anything but soprano?”

Algy pondered this query for a few moments, while the girls had to smother their risibles in their handkerchiefs. Then the troubled young man said: “Why, I am just wondering where the vocal chord is? Has it any connection with the spine? You said something yesterday about violent exercise being good for my spinal cord, and now you ask if it is broken.” He seemed not to have heard the question about having a soprano voice.

“Why, no, A. A. A.—you are wrong on both counts. Your vocal chord, because it is so high, you know, must be located in your cranium. Any one can tell that, by your high-toned airs. Some day it might prove very interesting for you to have a specialist on the brain seek for the Lost Chord in your head. You would become famous in a day, were he to discover it in your cerebellum,” explained Jack.

Poor Algy knew nothing of cerebrums or cerebellums, or of chords,—Lost or Found,—so how was he to know that Jack was making a goose of him? That night, after he had sought his down pillows to sleep, the erratic spirit refused to close his eyes. Then Algy began to wonder what that tremendously wise chap meant by his high-toned airs! How the girls would have teased Jack, had they but known that Algy revered the young man’s intelligence—all because that joker spoke of matters pertaining to the head.

Early the following morning Jack rapped upon each door of the rooms occupied by his friends, and informed them that he was ready to start on that day’s excursion. There was no need for a second call for breakfast that time—in less than half an hour every one was gathered about the table. True, Algy looked heavy-eyed, but no one paid overmuch attention to him.

“We are going to take lunch and eat it in the Ceremonial Cave at Frigoles Canyon, this noon,” announced Jack. “If we take one of the autos usually rented for the round trip, we are limited to six passengers. That would cost us thirty-five dollars for the sixty-eight miles there and back. If we wanted to remain overnight at El Rito Ranch, the extra cost on the car would be twenty dollars. So I got busy and figured out costs, and I am persuaded to hire a regular seven-passenger automobile, such as we had yesterday, and go as we like, and return any old time. What do you think of the suggestion?”

The car used the preceding day was very comfortable; and the idea of leaving one member out of the party if the regular bus was engaged had no appeal to any one in Jack’s party; hence it was quickly decided to engage the large touring car for the round trip—perhaps for the night and next day. Immediately after deciding this question, Jack hastened out of the dining-room and arranged for the auto.

The hotel management packed a generous luncheon for seven guests and the chauffeur, and soon after breakfast had been finished the young folks gathered on the verandah for the start.

Jack sat in front beside the driver and learned much about the wonders of the region. It was due to information thus received that he halted the car some time after Santa Fé had been left behind, and told his companions about the ranch called El Rito where a splendid luncheon was to be had at a dollar a person.

“But we have planned a luncheon in the cave you told about, Jack!” exclaimed Eleanor, plainly disappointed.

“The driver says we will be so hungry by three o’clock, that an extra lunch will be found most acceptable. That’s what I thought we would do with the hamper of good things,” explained Jack.

“In that case, we will have no appetite for dinner to-night, and later, about nine o’clock every one will feel starved,” objected Mrs. Courtney.

“The driver says it is a most tiresome trip to make in one day, because we will want to climb and visit all the queer caves and ruins, and we’ll be thankful for a rest at the ranch to-night. We can get excellent rooms at this time of year for three to three-fifty per. I thought his suggestion an improvement on my plan. Then we might enjoy the ride back to-morrow, early in the morning, far more than coming in late at night all tired and hungry after such a day’s outing.”

“All right, Jack! We’ll do as you say. But tell the driver to be sure and see that we get good accommodations at the ranch,” agreed Mrs. Courtney, having been informed that the others were pleased with the change of programme.

The entire country presented interesting as well as unexpected scenery, and the girls were too absorbed in gazing around to pay attention to Mrs. Alexander and Algy. These two members of the group never saw anything novel or unique in the sights passed. Had they been suddenly perched upon the top-most pinnacle of the Continental Divide they would not have felt the exaltation of soul which would have caused others to groan with the burden of a physical body that held the spirit down upon earth!

Picturesque Mexican villages with adobe houses and old mission churches gave Polly and Eleanor ample opportunities for kodak pictures. The dark-eyed señoritas and their adoring señoras added the touch of Ancient Spain to the views. In direct opposition to these old Spanish scenes, was the grandeur of sheer cliffs and mighty canyons, the road often winding along the very edge of great boulders which might roll and hurl them all down into dreaded depths. While skirting these awesome chasms Mrs. Alexander uttered shrill little screams and clung dependently to Algy’s arm. Poor fellow! He wished he had some strong right arm upon which he, too, might lean during those risky places.

After stopping at El Rito Ranch for an excellent dinner, and having engaged the best rooms to be had for that night, the party went on its way rejoicing.

The rest of the day was spent in visiting the ruins in Frigole Canyon, getting pictures of different views of the ancient Kiva in Ceremonial Cave of the Canyon, and in adventuring to various old cave dwellings.

It was well that Jack had planned for his party to remain over-night at El Rito Ranch, because there was scant time before sunset that evening to see all the wonders of this remarkable place. They wished to visit White Rock Canyon and the Painted Cave, but the darkness fell too quickly for further sight-seeing. Therefore it was voted unanimously to return and see all that was left to see the next morning.

The evening at the ranch house passed merrily for the young people. The victrola provided the dance music, and the younger members in the party were the dancers. But the day had been fatiguing in spite of the enjoyment of the sights seen, so bed was not sneered at when Mrs. Courtney suggested sleep.

After a hearty breakfast in the early morning, Jack superintended the activities of packing another luncheon and placing his friends for the drive to the Cave and Canyon.

Upon this trip Algy managed to place Dodo between her mother and himself. He had rebelled at the demonstration of trust and dependence shown by Mrs. Alexander the previous day, not that he felt annoyed at the good judgment of his elderly friend, but because he wished to be absolutely free to save himself in case another dangerous route had to be taken in reaching the Cave that day. What could he do for himself if a heavy woman clung tenaciously to his arm?

But Algy had maneuvered in vain, that time, since the auto road ran safely over splendid tableland until the Canyon was reached. Here the driver advised his passengers to get out and walk to the Cave and other points of interest, in order that they might see all the various things along the way.

The Painted Cave was left for the last visit. And just before “doing” that, Jack proposed luncheon on the edge of the great cliffs along the Rio Grande. The girls hailed the idea, but Algy had nothing to say. In fact, when the others sat as close to the edge of the towering cliff as it was possible to reach in safety, he managed to sit the farthest back in the group. At every shout of sudden or unexpected laughter from the others in the happy party, had any one watched the timorous youth he might have been seen to jump nervously and turn pale.

Then they all proceeded to the Painted Cave; Algy, naturally, lingering behind the others as though he wished to study each strange item seen on the way. Finally the others had advanced so far ahead of the loiterer that they were quite out of sight. This was the timid young man’s opportunity to enter an aperture and silently await the return of his friends. Then he could slip out unseen and join them as they returned to the entrance of the Cave. His plan would have worked wonderfully well for him, had not Jack studied the sketch given him that morning by the host of El Rito Ranch. By this map it was found that an exit could be used by going single file through a crevice at the end of the Cave, and emerging some distance away from the main entrance.

The sense of adventure proved a factor in the general approval to follow this exit, so Jack led on and used his pocket flash-light to show the way. The others followed directly after him, and no one dreamed that Algy was not one of the party in the Cave where unusual sights abounded. Each one had been intent upon seeing all that was possible, hence Algy had been forgotten for the time being.

Finally Jack led them out once more to the dry, clear, invigorating air, and then they picked a careful pathway around the cliff to get back to their rendezvous with the chauffeur. Not till then did they realize that one of the party was missing.

“Why—good gracious me! Where did he go?” exclaimed Polly.

“When did you see him last?” asked Jack, wonderingly, as he turned and gazed along the trail to the Cave.

“Really—I can’t say,” admitted Dodo; and Mrs. Alexander also confessed that she had not missed her usual escort.

“Could he have fallen down one of the slippery sides of the rocky way we came out?” asked Mrs. Courtney, anxiously.

“Hardly! The trail is too carefully guarded against accident,” returned Jack.

“Well, anyway, we can’t go on without him. We’ve got to hunt him up now,” declared Dodo, impatiently. Then she added, to her mother, “Why don’t you tie him to your apron-strings, since he is not capable of taking care of himself?”

“You don’t expect me to sacrifice my pleasure by playing nurse maid to your admirer, do you?” retorted Mrs. Alexander.

“You know very well that he never would have joined this party were it not that you insisted that he come. He knows I despise his airs and silly attentions, but you keep encouraging him. So it’s up to you to assume responsibility for his safety. He cannot take care of himself, as you can see.”

Thus arguing over the hapless Algy, the two arguers followed Jack back to the Painted Cave. But so much time had been devoted to other sights that day, that now it was twilight once more and the Cave entrance was shrouded in semi-darkness.

Meanwhile what had become of the lost Algy?

He found the small cave he had entered quite a pleasant hiding-place. And, seeing a soft covering of dried grass and roots upon the rock at one side, he decided to sit down and rest, while waiting to catch the sound of the voices of his returning friends.

He sat thus for some time, but he preferred doing nothing, even though he had to sit in a low, rock-ribbed cavelet while doing so. He felt drowsy, and he was tired from the long tramps of the day before, plus the constant walking while exploring the places where he saw nothing to rave over—as the girls seemed to do.

As he waited patiently, with now and then a little doze to furnish necessary stimulus to his weary body, he was suddenly roused by a horrid noise at the mouth of his retreat. He had penetrated so far into the small aperture as was possible, and he had no idea of what the threatening danger might be, but he did understand that without notice or explanation the place he was in became unexpectedly dark.

He jumped up and ran back to the opening of the crevice and, there, to his horror, he found that a huge boulder had rolled down and now filled the entrance and exit of his hiding-place. It was indeed a hiding-place now!

Algy’s head went round dizzily, and he felt that he would swoon, only he managed to recollect, too, that he dared not give in to unconsciousness then, lest his friends pass by during that time and he would be helpless to shout to them to help free him.

Fear and desperation acted like spurs to his usual lack of physical control, and he felt relieved to learn that the fainting spell was passing away. Then he examined the rock in order to see if it might have left a crevice wide enough for his slim form to pass through. But no!

He drew in his breath and cramped his almost flat body against the rough sides of the senseless boulder, and he tore his natty clothes to shreds upon the jagged edges of the heartless obstruction. Then he sat down and began to cry childishly, complaining to the silence of the dark cave the reasons he had for cursing such an outlandish trip—but he did not dare to use any strong language in his extremity, because he was not certain whether it would send him to limbo or not. Hence he remained neutral by merely giving utterance to what he wished to do under these trying circumstances. Even in this predicament, Algy felt that he might be overheard by cultured persons, and he flattered himself that he was acting up to the nicest form of politeness.

Loneliness and dark solitude are not conducive to polite behavior, however, as Algy learned after he had been captive in the small cavelet for some time; still no one passed by on the other side of that naughty rock!

“I’d blast you to atoms with my vengeance, if I had the means!” shouted Algy, to the insensible fragment of cliff before him.

Then he ran up and began pounding it with his doubled fists; but these futile taps merely scratched his flesh and bruised his knuckles, so he desisted and retired again.

After a few minutes,—seemingly hours to the frantic young stowaway,—he ran up to the rock again and strove mightily to shove it ever so little out of its bed, in order to allow him a bit more space by which he might manage to squeeze past, but the stubborn obstacle had no intention of giving way—even ever so little.

“Oh, you mean, nasty, old thing!” screamed Algy, striking at the sharp face of the boulder again and again. “If I was out of here I’d blow you to bits with a ton of dynamite, so there!” Then he sat down upon the hard rock-floor and began to weep helplessly.

“Why was I ever beguiled into coming to this awful country, where there is no pleasure or peace for a highly cultured young man? Oh, why do I love Dodo Alexander as I do, when I’d rather be heart-free to go about with my friends at Colorado Springs, instead of having a slow death in this cave?”

As he reached the end of his lamentations, he, like Job, lifted up his voice to the high heavens and his wail ended in a yell of fear. It was well he did so, since that ear-splitting yell reached the leader of the rescue party—no other than Jack!

“Now you-all stay out here where it is light, and I’ll go in and show A. A. A. the way out. Seeing they have no exits printed upon the walls of the Painted Cave, it is no wonder he lost his way.”

Thus saying, Jack ran into the Cave and came opposite the place where Algy sat Indian fashion upon the ground, his nose lifted up in the air after the manner of a hound when he bays at night.

“Say, A. A. A.! Stop that nerve-racking howl, will you?” called Jack, locating him by his cries.

“Oh, Jack! Is that you, dearest boy? Help me out of this death, and I’ll never forget you,” shouted Algy, in a frenzy of hope.

“I’ll get you out, if I can, without your everlasting remembrance,” laughed Jack, going over to try to push the boulder aside. But he found it would not budge an inch.

“Say! why don’t you come out the same way you went in?” asked Jack, finally.

“I cawn’t, you know! I came in, and that blawsted rock rolled down and blocked the way. Do push it away, won’t you, precious Jack.”

“Say, there! stop calling me names, will you? I’ll go right home, and never play with you again, if you dub me one of those mushy things again,” growled Jack, glaring at the rock fiercely, as though it were Algy.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’ll agree to anything, Jack de—only get me out safely, at once,” whimpered Algy.

Jack tried again to move the boulder, ever so little, but it seemed to be wedged tight, and he realized that he must get assistance.

“A. A. A., I’ve got to go back to the car and get the chauffeur to come and help. Also, we must have a crow-bar, or a length of tree, to pry under the stone and move it. You sit down and play tag with your fingers, while I am gone for help.” Without waiting for Algy’s mournful reply to stay nearby with him and not leave him alone in the dark, Jack rushed away and was soon out of the cave.

A few words shouted to the girls explained where he was going, and then he was out of sight.

Well, between the driver of the car, a broad-shouldered Amazon of a westerner, and Jack, the dandified New Yorker, and a stout trunk of a tree which had been found and dragged to the cave niche where A. A. A. still wept and wailed for succor, the rock was moved enough to enable Algy to come through the aperture made for him.

But, oh! what a sight he made, when he appeared in the light of the flash-lamp. Jack doubled over with laughing, and the driver hastily glanced back to assure himself that the ladies were not able to see the scarcely covered form of thin little Algernon.

“Here! throw this dust-coat about you, Mister, and button it all the way down, or the girls will jump into the Canyon,” roared the heartless chauffeur, as he offered this protection to A. A. A.