CHAPTER XXIX
MALCOLM’S DECISION
Malcolm listened to the enthusiastic chatter of the two girls, who, having read Eleanor’s letter to him were each trying to outdo the other in thinking up arguments that might persuade the lad that accepting the invitation was the very best thing that he could do and just what he should do to regain his strength.
“But who will conduct the V. M. Ranch? Tell me that,” the lad protested.
“Uncle Tex was overseer whenever Dad went away, and if our father could trust his judgment, surely we can.”
“Righto, and, with such able helpers as Slim and Lucky, I really have nothing to fear on that score, and yet, of course, they might need my advice now and then. Did your friend, Eleanor, mention a town from which one could telegraph?”
“Why, no, she didn’t, but of course there are towns everywhere. However, that is the one thing we want to get you away from, a long distance telephone or any other method of easy communication, for every day you would be wanting to call up and find out if V. M. were all right.”
Then, as Malcolm still hesitated, Virg hastened on to say, “Of course, I didn’t know that we might go to California, as I only just now received this letter, but I did know that we wanted to go somewhere, and so, yesterday, I talked it all over with dear old Uncle Tex and he agrees with me that it is your duty to all of us to go where you can rest and when I said, ‘You could take charge of V. M. just as you used to do for Dad, couldn’t you?’ Well, Malcolm, I wish you could have seen that dear old man’s face. Glowing doesn’t describe it. ‘Miss Virginie, dearie, Ah’d take it as powerful complimentin’ if Malcolm’d trust me, Ah sure would, an Lucky an’ Slim’d stand by me, that’s sartin’, was what he said, and his voice trembled, brother, honestly it did.”
“I know how he feels,” the lad declared earnestly. “Uncle Tex has felt much like an old horse may, one that we feel has outlived its usefulness and is given pasturage for the rest of its life. Dad told us that he once had a horse like that. He thought it had served him long enough, and so he did not permit any of the boys to ride it, but after a time, he noticed that the old horse used to come up to the bars when its companions were being saddled and actually looked wistful, as though it were being left out. Then came the day of the great stampede. You’ve heard Father tell about it time and again, Virg, how the boys were all away helping Mr. Slater with his roundup, and only old Peter left in the fenced-in pasture. The boys had cut out our cattle and had started them for home, Dad says, when all of a sudden he heard a noise that sounded like distant thunder. As it neared, he knew it to be the pounding of hoofs; then he could hear the bellowing of frightened cattle. He was alone on the ranch and the only horse nearby was old Peter.
“Dad ran to the rise of ground above the dry creek and saw that the maddened herd was swerving toward the north and might be lost in that waterless part of the desert called ‘The Burning Acres.’ While he was wondering what could be done to stop them, he heard a shrill whistling neigh from old Peter. Dad turned in time to see that horse race across the small pasture and leap that high-barred fence, nor did it stop, but kept on galloping as it had in its younger days, directly toward the mass of surging cattle. Dad said he was sure the old horse would be trampled to death. Many a time, in years gone by, he himself had ridden Peter when he wanted to turn cattle back, and now, though riderless, the old horse seemed bent on doing that very thing. Dad said he held his breath, but the unexpected happened. The cattle, not knowing what to make of the horse that was hurling itself at them, did swerve, and then, to Dad’s great joy, they descended into a dry creek where, since they could not run, they were soon under the control of the cowboys who came riding on ponies that were covered with lather.”
“What of old Peter?” Megsy inquired. “Did he die then from exhaustion?”
“Indeed not!” Malcolm told her. “And never again was he treated as though his days of usefulness were all over. Dad himself rode him, not on hard rides, to be sure, but whenever he was just going to the station or to visit with a neighbor, and, after that, the old horse seemed much more content.” Then turning to his sister, the lad said, “I recalled that story when you told me how almost wistfully eager Uncle Tex was to be once more trusted as overseer of the place. And he shall be, too. Dear faithful old man.”
“Then you will go with us? You will let us take you to this wonderful San Ceritos?” the two girls cried at once.
Laughingly the lad held out a hand to each of them. “Damsels fair,” he said, “take me wherever you wish, but now please depart. I wish to lay my plans.”
Then Margaret accused, “Malcolm, there are twinkles in your eyes. I do believe that you are amused at something.”
The lad, who still held the hand of his ward, turned and looked at her, then he smiled again as though he were pleased with what he saw, as indeed he well might be, for Margaret had been so excited that her cheeks were flushed and as pink as roses, while her dreamy brown eyes were shining like stars. Then, as the lad continued to gaze at her, the color deepened, and, withdrawing her hand, she said mischievously, “Virginia, perhaps we better go, since Malcolm has just told us that he prefers his own thoughts to our company.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” the lad declared. “I’d rather have you stay.”
Virginia, who for the last few moments had been busy in another part of the room, turned suddenly and looked intently at her brother as though she were surprised about something. He was usually so serious, so occupied with business that she had forgotten that he could tease. Then her face brightened, and stooping, she kissed him lightly on the forehead. “You are much better, dear, aren’t you?” she said, then taking her friend by the arm, she continued, “Come, Megsy, let’s hie us to our rooms and select the wardrobe we are to take with us. Eleanor’s telegram may come tomorrow and we will then have not more than three days to prepare for the journey.”