CHAPTER II
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!
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?