CHAPTER XXXVIII—A SUDDEN REALIZATION.
When Malcolm entered the ranch living-room, his sister Virginia told him of the newspaper article which they had discovered. “That’s great news!” he exclaimed, “We must convey it to the one most interested as soon as we can. Let me see. This is Tuesday. Perhaps by day after tomorrow I can arrange things here so that I can ride into Douglas. There I can telephone to the postoffice at Red Riverton and possibly get in touch with some one from the Wilson ranch.”
“Oh brother! Two whole days! I could send a letter in less time than that,” Virginia protested.
“But, of what use would a letter be if it were left lying in the postoffice for no one knows how long?” Margaret remarked. “Tom wrote, you remember, that their mail is not often called for.”
“You are right,” Virginia agreed as she returned to her sewing, “but I am so impatient to have Tom learn this glorious news.”
“But Sis, why are you so sure that the article refers to our Tom?” Malcolm asked as he glanced from the paper which he had been reading.
“True, it does describe him and yet this same description would fit a dozen other fair young men. There is nothing unusual about it, and we have no reason to think that his last name is Wentworth, have we?”
“Oh, Virg, we never told Malcolm about that letter, did we?” Margaret exclaimed, and then, turning to the curious lad, she explained about the scratched out name, the first initial of which had been faintly visible.
“That does seem like almost conclusive evidence,” Malcolm declared. “Well, I sincerely hope that you are right,” he added, “for I liked Tom’s frank, pleasant face the moment I saw him on Second Peak with you girls and even after he had declared that he was an outlaw. I still liked and trusted him.”
“Brother,” Virg said a few moments later as she dropped her sewing in her lap and looked up, “if Tom wishes to do so, may he return here and live with us? Before he left he told us that his week at V. M. had been the happiest bit of home life that he had had since his own mother died.”
“Why, of course he may return if he wishes,” Malcolm said in his hearty way. “I need someone to remain on the ranch when I am gone. Slim and Lucky are splendid fellows, but they do not care to assume the entire responsibility during my absence. Tom has had greater advantages, and, though he may not know as much about cattle, he is intelligent enough to learn in short order.”
Then glancing at the clock, Malcolm added, “The hour is nine and if I am to do two days’ work in one tomorrow that I may be free the next, I must hie me to my slumbers.”
The lad bade them goodnight and started to leave the room, but he turned at the door and said, “The mountain road is in bad condition, otherwise I would ask you young ladies to accompany me to Douglas on Tuesday, but I fear it would not be safe for our Rollabout, and it is too far for Margaret to ride.”
That maiden looked up eagerly. “Oh Malcolm, I do wish you would let me try riding Star into Douglas. If Virg can, surely I can also.”
“Good!” the lad declared, “I shall indeed be glad to have your company.”
The girls visited for half an hour longer, and then they too retired. Virginia felt strangely eager and excited.
The next day the two girls gave the ranch house a thorough cleaning. “Time goes much faster if one keeps every minute of it occupied,” Virginia had declared, “and the spring cleaning is due, so let’s go at it.”
When Malcolm and Lucky came in for the noon repast, they laughed to see the two young housekeepers in all-over gingham aprons with pretty dust-caps on their heads, wielding broom and brush in so vigorous a manner.
“You boys will have to lunch alone today,” Margaret told them, “for we girls must finish sweeping the living-room and then while we dine, the dust will be settling.”
The boys pretended to be greatly disappointed, but that night at dinner Virg and Margaret made up for their seeming neglect. They dressed in their prettiest house gowns and laughed and chattered, making the meal a merry one.
“How everything shines!” Malcolm declared as he looked at the glistening glass and silver. “You aren’t expecting company, are you, Sis?”
“Of course not!” Virginia replied. “You know we always go over the house this way every spring and fall and many times in between.”
Later in the evening when the cow-boy had gone to the bunkhouse and the three young people sat about the library table, the girls sewing, and Malcolm reading a cattleman’s magazine, Virg suddenly exclaimed, “Just think Megsy, tomorrow Tom is to know the wonderful news. How I wish that he might be able to leave the sheep ranch right away and come back to us. I do hope that he has not entered into an agreement of any sort promising to remain with Mr. Wilson for a definite length of time.”
The girl, happening to glance up just then, found the kind, gray eyes of her brother earnestly regarding her. “Do you care so much about Tom’s coming, Virginia?” Malcolm asked. Then fearing that his question would be an embarrassing one for his sister to answer (for he had noted the sudden rose in her cheeks) he hurriedly added, “I, too, will be glad to see Tom. I believe he will be free to come whenever he wishes.”
After that Malcolm seemed to read on, apparently deeply absorbed in the articles in his magazine, but in reality he did not even see the printed page for he had suddenly realized that his sister was a little girl no longer, that indeed she was verging on young womanhood, and that some day, perhaps soon, she would care more for someone else than she did for him; she might even go somewhere else to live and leave him alone on the V. M. Ranch.
After about half an hour of vain endeavor to grasp the meaning of the scientific article, Malcolm closed the magazine and, looking up, caught an amused twinkle in Margaret’s violet eyes and saw the dimple that he had always thought the prettiest thing a girl could possess.
Leaning over Megsy said merrily, “Malcolm, hand me that magazine! I am going to give you an oral exam in what you have read. You have been staring at one page for so long, I think you must have been memorizing the commas.”
Malcolm laughed and said irrelevantly, “Thank you for darning my socks, Mistress Megsy. I see you have one now in your nimble fingers.”
Then, rising, he added, “Nine o’clock, girls, and I want you to be ready for the saddle by five tomorrow morning. It’s a long, hard ride to Douglas and back. Good night.”
The girls soon heard him whistling in another part of the house.
A sudden glad hope had awakened in Malcolm’s consciousness. Perhaps, just perhaps, he might not have to live alone after all.