CHAPTER I—VIRGINIA OF V. M. RANCH.
Down a winding mountain trail, a girl of sixteen was riding on Comrade, her wiry red-brown pony.
It was a glorious morning. The sky above was a gleaming cloudless blue, the desert, below, stretching to the far horizon, shimmered white in the sunlight, while some bird in a canon near was caroling a tipsy song of joy, but these things Virginia Davis did not see or hear, for her eyes were gazing at the rugged trail and her thoughts were puzzling over the contents of a letter which her brother Malcolm had brought to her that morning when he had returned from the town of Douglas which was twenty miles away.
Her father’s best friend had died the year before, and had left a motherless girl all alone in the world. When Mr. Selover realized that he had not long to live he had written Mr. Davis asking him to become the guardian of his daughter, Margaret, who was then in a select boarding school in the East.
In some unaccountable manner, the letter had been delayed for many months, and during that time, Mr. Davis had also died, leaving Virginia and Malcolm as sole owners of the vast cattle ranch which was known as “The V. M.”
This morning Virginia had ridden to the top of the trail where she often went when she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, for the long delayed letter had indeed brought a new problem to these two young people.
This unknown Margaret Selover, it seemed, was their father’s ward. Ought they not to assume the responsibility which he would so gladly have taken had he lived? And yet, what if the girl should prove to be very unlike themselves? She might not care to make her home on their wonderful desert, and, if she did not, would it be right for them to take her from an environment in which she was happy and content? But how could they tell, since they did not know her?
Comrade had carefully wended his way down the mountain trail and had carried his young mistress, who was deeply absorbed in thought, across the dry creek, under a clump of cottonwood trees and up the steep farther bank before the girl looked about her with eyes that saw.
Her brother was galloping toward her. “Ho, Virginia!” he hailed as he waved his wide sombrero. “Did your Inspiration Peak help you to solve our problem? What are we to do with our ward?”
The girl flashed a smile at the lad, whose frank, bronzed face resembled her own, for, though he was two years her senior, twins could not have been more alike or dearer to each other.
“If only we knew what type of a girl this Margaret is,” his sister replied as he wheeled his horse about and rode by her side, “we could so much more easily decide upon a plan. I did indeed receive an inspiration, but one hard to carry out I fear. I have been wishing that in some way we might become acquainted with our ward without having her know who we are.”
“You are right, sister,” Malcolm said seriously. “I do not wish to invite this unknown girl to share our home unless I am convinced that your life will be made happier by the companionship. Our father would not wish it otherwise. Now tell me your plan.”
Virginia looked at her brother with unexpected laughter in her violet-blue eyes. “It is one by which we could become acquainted with our ward without revealing to her our true identity. Harken and you shall hear.”
Malcolm’s hearty laughter rang out when the half serious, half merry plan had been told.
“If only we can persuade Uncle Tex to play the role of elderly guardian,” he exclaimed. “I am sure that your little drama, when staged, will bring about the desired results, but, knowing our faithful old overseer as well as I do, I fear that we may have a tragedy, or a comedy, which perhaps would be equally disastrous.”
Virginia’s amused expression had changed to one of serious concern. “Brother,” she said, “if we do carry out my plan, will it be quite honest to Margaret?”
“Not right in the beginning I must confess,” Malcolm replied, “but, of course, we will at once tell her the truth, if, after meeting her, we decided to invite her to become one of our household, but, on the contrary, if we find that she would not wish to share our home, she would, of course, return to the school where she has been for so many years. We will at least have tried to do our duty as we see it.”
“Then shall I write the letter?” the violet eyes turned questioningly.
“Yes, that will be the prologue to the little drama. Rusty Pete is going to Silver Creek Junction this afternoon and he will start the message on its eastward journey.”
Again Malcolm’s amused laughter rang out. “It will be better not to let Uncle Tex know that we have designs upon him,” he said, “for, if he has an inkling, even, that we are going to request him to do a bit of ‘play actin’ as he would call it, he will start at once for the mountain cabin, the location of which we have never been able to discover.”
Their low rambling ranch house having been reached, Virginia leaped to the ground, tossing the reins to her brother, who, still chuckling to himself, rode on down to the corral where an old, white-haired man could be seen repairing a fence.