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diff --git a/25578.txt b/25578.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e4f4710 --- /dev/null +++ b/25578.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10813 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Sunbridge Girls at Six Star Ranch, by +Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman) Porter, Illustrated by Frank J. Murch + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Sunbridge Girls at Six Star Ranch + + +Author: Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman) Porter + + + +Release Date: May 23, 2008 [eBook #25578] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUNBRIDGE GIRLS AT SIX STAR +RANCH*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Emmy, and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 25578-h.htm or 25578-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/5/7/25578/25578-h/25578-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/5/7/25578/25578-h.zip) + + + + + +THE SUNBRIDGE GIRLS AT SIX STAR RANCH + +by + +ELEANOR STUART + +Illustrated by Frank J. Murch + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "REDDY WAS RIGHT THERE EVERY TIME" + +(_See page 113_)] + + + + +[Illustration] + +Boston L. C. Page & +Company Publishers + +Copyright, 1913 +by L. C. Page & Company +(Incorporated) +All rights reserved + +First Impression, April, 1913 +Second Impression, January, 1914 + +The Colonial Press +C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, U. S. A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. AUNT SOPHRONIA 1 + + II. PLANS FOR TEXAS 12 + + III. THE COMING OF GENEVIEVE 28 + + IV. ON THE WAY 44 + + V. THE BOYS PREPARE A WELCOME 61 + + VI. CORDELIA SEES A COWBOY 72 + + VII. THE RANCH HOUSE 86 + + VIII. THE MISTRESS OF THE SIX STAR RANCH 99 + + IX. REDDY AND THE BRONCHO 110 + + X. CORDELIA GOES TO CHURCH 121 + + XI. QUENTINA 137 + + XII. THE OPENING OF A BARREL 157 + + XIII. THE PRAIRIE--AND MOONLIGHT 171 + + XIV. A MAN AND A MYSTERY 185 + + XV. THE ALAMO 201 + + XVI. TILLY CROSSES BRIDGES 215 + + XVII. "BERTHA'S ACCIDENT" 225 + +XVIII. THE GOLDEN HOURS 235 + + XIX. HERMIT JOE 248 + + XX. THE NEW BOY 260 + + XXI. GENEVIEVE LEARNS SOMETHING NOT IN BOOKS 278 + + XXII. A TEXAS "MISSIONARY" 296 + +XXIII. GENEVIEVE GOES TO BOSTON 307 + + XXIV. A BROWN DRESS FOR ELSIE 324 + + XXV. "WHEN SUNBRIDGE WENT TO TEXAS" 339 + + XXVI. A GOOD-BY PARTY 349 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + + "REDDY WAS RIGHT THERE EVERY TIME" (_See page 113_) _Frontispiece_ + + "A TALL, SLENDER GIRL ... APPEARED AT A CAR DOOR" 30 + + "'FOLLOW ME--QUICK!' HE ORDERED" 181 + + "'THERE, NOW--LOOK!' SHE ADDED" 207 + + "'HOW DO YOU DO, MR. OLIVER HOLMES,' SHE BEGAN" 265 + + "IT WOULD BE SOMETHING OF A WALK, THE WOMAN SAID, AS + SHE GAVE DIRECTIONS" 320 + + + + +The Sunbridge Girls at Six Star Ranch + + + + +CHAPTER I + +AUNT SOPHRONIA + + +The Reverend Thomas Wilson's sister, Miss Sophronia, had come to +Sunbridge on a Tuesday evening late in June to make her brother's family +a long-promised visit. But it was not until the next morning that she +heard something that sent her to her sister-in-law in a burst of +astonishment almost too great for words. + +"For pity's sake, Mary, what is this I hear?" she demanded. "Edith +insists that her cousin, Cordelia, is going to Texas next week--to +Texas!--_Cordelia!_" + +"Yes, she is, Sophronia," replied the minister's wife, trying to make +her answer sound as cheerful and commonplace as she could, and as if +Texas were in the next room. (It was something of a trial to Mrs. +Thomas Wilson that her husband's sister could not seem to understand +that she, a minister's wife for eighteen years and the mother of five +children, ought to know what was proper and right for her orphaned niece +to do--at least fully as much as should a spinster, who had never +brought up anything but four cats and a parrot!) "Edith is quite right. +Cordelia is going to Texas next week." + +"But, Mary, are you crazy? To let a child like that go all the way from +here to Texas--one would think New Hampshire and Texas were twenty miles +apart!" + +Mrs. Wilson sighed a little wearily. + +"Cordelia isn't exactly a child, Sophronia, you must remember that. She +was sixteen last November; and she's very self-reliant and capable for +her age, too. Besides, she isn't going alone, you know." + +"Alone!" exclaimed Miss Sophronia. "Mary, surely, the rest that Edith +said isn't true! Those other girls aren't going, too, are they?--Elsie +Martin, and that flyaway Tilly Mack, and all?" + +"I think they are, Sophronia." + +"Well, of all the crazy things anybody ever heard of!" almost groaned +the lady. "Mary, what _are_ you thinking of?" + +"I'm thinking of Cordelia," returned the minister's wife, with a spirit +that was as sudden as it was unusual. "Sophronia, for twelve years, ever +since she came to me, Cordelia has been just a Big Sister in the +family; and she's had to fetch and carry and trot and run her little +legs off for one after another of the children, as well as for her uncle +and me. You _know_ how good she is, and how conscientious. You know how +anxious she always is to do exactly right. She's never had a playday, +and I'm sure she deserves one if ever a girl did! Vacations to her have +never meant anything but more care and more time for housework." + +Mrs. Wilson paused for breath, then went on with renewed vigor. + +"When this chance came up, Tom and I thought at first, of course, just +as you did, that it was quite out of the question; but--well, we decided +to let her go. And I haven't been sorry a minute since. She's Tom's only +brother's child, but we've never been able to do much for her, as you +know. We can let her have this chance, though. And she's so happy--dear +child!" + +"But what is it? How did it happen? Who's going? Edith's story sounded +so absurd to me I could make precious little out of it. She insisted +that the 'Happy X's' were going." + +The minister's wife smiled. + +"It's the girls' 'Hexagon Club,' Sophronia. They call themselves the +'Happy Hexagons.' There are six of them." + +"Humph!" commented Miss Sophronia. "Who are they--besides Cordelia?" + +"Bertha Brown, Tilly Mack, Alma Lane, Elsie Martin, and Genevieve +Hartley." + +"And _who_?" frowned Miss Sophronia at the last name. + +"Genevieve Hartley. She is the little Texas girl. It is to her ranch +they are going." + +"_Her_ ranch!" + +"Well--her father's." + +"But who is she? What's she doing here?" + +"She's been going to school this winter. She's at the Kennedys'." + +"A Texas ranch-girl at the Kennedys'! Why, they're _nice_ people!" +exclaimed Miss Sophronia, opening wide her eyes. + +Mrs. Wilson laughed now outright. + +"You'd better not let Miss Genevieve hear you say 'nice' in that tone of +voice--and in just that connection, Sophronia," she warned her. +"Genevieve might think you meant to insinuate that there weren't any +_nice_ people in Texas--and she's very fond of Texas!" + +Miss Sophronia smiled grimly. + +"Well, I don't mean that, of course. Still, a ranch must be sort of wild +and--and mustangy, seems to me; and I was thinking of the Kennedys, +especially Miss Jane Chick. Imagine saying 'wild' and 'Miss Jane' in the +same breath!" + +"Yes, I know," smiled Mrs. Wilson; "and I guess Genevieve has been +something of a trial--in a way; though they love her dearly--both of +them. She's a very lovable girl. But she _is_ heedless and thoughtless; +and, of course, she wasn't at all used to our ways here in the East. Her +mother died when she was eight years old; since then she has been +brought up by her father on the ranch. She blew into Sunbridge last +August like a veritable breeze from her own prairies--and the Kennedy +home isn't used to breezes--especially Miss Jane. I imagine Genevieve +did stir things up a little there all winter--though she has improved a +great deal since she came." + +"But why did she come in the first place?" + +Mrs. Wilson smiled oddly. + +"That's the best part of it," she said. "It seems that last April, when +Mrs. Kennedy and Miss Chick were on their way home from California, they +stopped in Houston, Texas, a few days, and there they met John Hartley +and his daughter, Genevieve. It appears they had known him years ago +when they were 'the Chick girls,' and he came to Sunbridge to visit +relatives. I've heard it whispered that he was actually a bit in love +with one of them, though I never heard whether it was Miss Jane, or the +one who is now the Widow Kennedy. However that may be, he was delighted +to see them in Texas, report says, and to introduce to them his +daughter, Genevieve." + +"But that doesn't explain how the girl came here," frowned Miss +Sophronia. + +"No, but I will," smiled her sister-in-law. "Fond and proud as Mr. +Hartley very plainly was of his daughter, it did not take Mrs. Kennedy +long to see that he was very much disturbed at the sort of life she was +living at the ranch. That is, he felt that the time had come now when +she needed something that only school, young girl friends, and +gently-bred women could give her; yet he could not bear the thought of +sending her off alone to an ordinary boarding school. Then is when Mrs. +Kennedy arose to the occasion; and very quickly it was settled that +Genevieve should come here to her in Sunbridge for school this last +winter--which she did, and Mrs. Kennedy has been a veritable mother to +her ever since. She calls her 'Aunt Julia.'" + +"Hm-m; very fine, I'm sure," murmured Miss Sophronia, a little shortly. +"And now she's asked these girls home with her--the whole lot of them!" + +"Yes; and they're crazy over it--as you'd know they would be." + +Miss Sophronia sniffed audibly. + +"Humph! It's the parents that are crazy, I'm thinking," she corrected. +"Imagine it--six scatter-brained children, and all the way to Texas! +Mary!" + +"Oh, but the father is in the East here, on business and he goes back +with them," conciliated Mrs. Wilson, hastily. "Besides, Mrs. Kennedy is +going, too." + +Miss Sophronia raised her eyebrows. + +"Well, I can't say I envy her the thing she's undertaken. Imagine _my_ +attempting to chaperon six crazy girls all the way from New Hampshire to +Texas--and then on a ranch for nobody knows how long after that!" + +"I can't imagine--_your_ doing it, Sophronia," rejoined the minister's +wife, demurely. And at the meaning emphasis and the twinkle in her eye, +Miss Sophronia sniffed again audibly. + +"When do they go?" she asked in her stiffest manner. + +"The first day of July." + +"Indeed! Very fine, I'm sure. Still--I've been thinking of the expense. +Of course, for a minister--" + + +Mrs. Wilson bit her lip. After a moment she filled the pause that her +sister-in-law had left. + +"I understand, of course, what you mean, Sophronia," she acknowledged. +"And ministers' families don't have much money for Texas trips, I'll +own. As it happens, however, the trip will cost the young people +nothing. Mr. Hartley very kindly bears all the expenses." + +"He does?" + +"Yes. He declares he shall be in the girls' debt even then. You see, +last winter Genevieve sprained her ankle, and was shut up for weeks in +the house. It was a very bad sprain, and naturally it came pretty hard +on such an active, outdoor girl as she is. Mrs. Kennedy says she thinks +Genevieve and all the rest of them would have gone wild if it hadn't +been for the girls. One or more of them was there every day. Then is +when they formed their Hexagon Club. It was worth everything to +Genevieve, as you can imagine; and Mr. Hartley declares that nothing he +can ever do will half repay them. Besides, he wants Genevieve to be with +nice girls all she can--she's had so little of girls' society. So he's +asked them to go as his guests." + +"Dear me! Well, he must have some money!" + +"He has. Mrs. Kennedy says he is a man of independent means, and he has +no one but Genevieve to spend his money on. So, as for this trip--in his +whole-hearted, generous Western fashion, he pays all the bills himself." + +"Hm-m; very kind, I'm sure," admitted Miss Sophronia, grudgingly. "Well, +I'm glad, at least, that it doesn't cost you anything." + +There was a moment's silence, then Mrs. Wilson said, apologetically: + +"I'm sorry, Sophronia, but I'm afraid you'll have to stand it till the +children go--and there'll be something to stand, too; for it's 'Texas, +Texas, Texas,' from morning till night, everywhere. Genevieve herself +is in New Jersey visiting friends, but that doesn't seem to make any +difference. The whole town is wildly excited over the trip. I found even +little Mrs. Miller, the dressmaker, yesterday poring over an old atlas +spread out on her cutting-table. + +"'I was just a-lookin' up where Texas was,' she explained when she saw +me. 'My! only think of havin' folks go all that distance--folks I know, +I mean. I'm sure I'd never dare to go--or let my girl.'" + +"Very sensible woman, I'm sure," remarked Miss Sophronia. + +Mrs. Wilson smiled; but she went on imperturbably. + +"Even the little tots haven't escaped infection. Imagine my sensations +Sunday when Bettie Barker, the primmest Miss Propriety in my infant +class, asked: 'Please, Mis' Wilson, what is a broncho, and how do you +bust 'em?'" + +This, indeed, was too much for even Miss Sophronia's gravity. Her lips +twitched and relaxed in a broad smile. + +"Well, upon my word!" she ejaculated, as she rose to her feet to go +up-stairs to her room. "Upon my word!" + +An hour later, in that same room, Mrs. Wilson, going in to place some +fresh towels upon the rack, found a huge book spread open on Miss +Sophronia's bed. The book was number seven in the Reverend Thomas +Wilson's most comprehensive encyclopedia; and it was open at the word +"Texas." + +Mrs. Wilson smiled and went out, closing the door softly behind her. + +It was, indeed, as Mrs. Wilson had said, "Texas, Texas, Texas," +everywhere throughout the town. Old atlases were brought down from +attics, and old geographies were dug out of trunks. Even the +dictionaries showed smudges in the T's where not over-clean fingers had +turned hurried pages for possible information. The library was besieged +at all hours, particularly by the Happy Hexagons, for they, of course, +were the storm-center of the whole thing. + +Ordinarily the club met but once a week; now they met daily--even in the +absence of their beloved president, Genevieve. Heretofore they had met +usually in the parsonage; now they met in the grove back of the +schoolhouse. + +"It seems more appropriate, somehow," Elsie had declared; "more sort of +airy and--Texasy!" + +"Yes; and we want to get used to space--wide, wide space! Genevieve says +it's all space," Bertha Brown had answered, with a far-reaching fling of +her arms. + +"Ouch! Bertha! Just be sure you've got the space, then, before you get +used to it," retorted Tilly, aggrievedly, straightening her hat which +had been knocked awry by one of the wide-flung arms. + +The Happy Hexagons met, of course, to study Texas, and to talk Texas; +though, as Bertha Brown's brother, Charlie, somewhat impertinently +declared, they did not need to meet to _talk_ Texas--they did that +without any meeting! All of which merely meant, of course, retaliated +the girls, that Charlie was jealous because he also could not go to +Texas. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +PLANS FOR TEXAS + + +It was a pretty little grove in which the Happy Hexagons met to study +and to talk Texas. Nor were they the only ones that met there. Though +Harold Day, Alma Lane's cousin, was not to be of the Texas party, the +girls invited him to meet with them, as he was Texas-born, and was one +of Genevieve's first friends in Sunbridge. On the outskirts of the magic +circle, sundry smaller brothers and sisters and cousins of the members +hung adoringly. Even grown men and women came sometimes, and stood +apart, looking on with what the Happy Hexagons chose to think were +admiring, awestruck eyes--which was not a little flattering, though +quite natural and proper, decided the club. For, of course, not every +one could go to Texas, to be sure! + +At the beginning, at least, of each meeting, affairs were conducted with +the seriousness due to so important a subject. In impressive silence the +club seated itself in a circle; and solemnly Cordelia Wilson, the +treasurer, opened the meeting, being (according to Tilly) a "perfect +image of her uncle in the pulpit." + +"Fellow members, once more we find ourselves gathered together for the +purpose of the study of Texas," she would begin invariably. And then +perhaps: "We will listen to Miss Bertha Brown, please. Miss Brown, what +new thing--I mean, what new features have you discovered about Texas?" + +If Miss Brown had something to say--and of course she did have something +(she would have been disgraced, otherwise)--she said it. Then each in +turn was asked, after which the discussion was open to all. + +They were lively meetings. No wonder small brothers and sisters and +cousins hung entranced on every word. No wonder, too, that at last, one +day, quite carried away with the enthusiasm of the moment, they made so +bold as to have something to say on their own account. It happened like +this: + +"Texas is the largest state in the Union," announced Bertha Brown, who +had been called on first. "It has an area about one twelfth as large as +that of the whole United States. If all the population of the country +were placed there, the state would not be as thickly settled as the +eastern shore of Massachusetts is. Six different flags have waved over +it since its discovery two hundred years ago: France, Spain, Mexico, +Republic of Texas, Confederate States of America, and the Star Spangled +Banner." + +"Pooh! I said most of that two days ago," muttered Tilly, not under +breath. + +"Well, I can't help it," pouted Bertha; "there isn't very much new left +to say, Tilly Mack, and you know it. Besides, I didn't have a minute's +time this morning to look up a single thing." + +"Order--order in the court," rapped Cordelia, sharply. + +"Oh, but it doesn't matter a bit if we do say the same things," +protested Alma Lane, quickly. (Alma was always trying to make peace +between combatants.) "I'm sure we shall remember it all the better if we +do repeat it." + +"Of course we shall," agreed Cordelia, promptly. "Now, Alma--I mean Miss +Lane--" (this title-giving was brand-new, having been introduced as a +special mark of dignity fitting to the occasion; and it was not easy to +remember!)--"perhaps you will tell us what you have found out." + +"Well, the climate is healthful," began Alma, hopefully. "Texas is less +subject to malarial diseases than any of the other states on the Gulf of +Mexico. September is the most rainy month; December the least. The mean +annual temperature near the mouth of the Rio Grande is 72 deg.; while along +the Red River the mean annual temperature is only 80 deg.. In the +northwestern part of the state the mean annual--" + +"Alma, please," begged Tilly, in mock horror, raising both her hands, +"_please_ don't give us any more of those mean annual temperatures. I'm +sure if they can be any _meaner_ than the temperature right here to-day +is," she sighed, as she fell to fanning herself vigorously, "I don't +want to know what it is!" + +"Tilly!" gasped Cordelia, in shocked disapproval. "What would Genevieve +say!" + +Tilly shrugged her shoulders. + +"Say? She wouldn't say anything--she couldn't," declared Tilly, +unexpectedly, "because she'd be laughing at us so for digging into Texas +like this and unearthing all its poor little secrets!" + +"But, Tilly, I think we ought to study it," reproved Cordelia, +majestically, above the laugh that followed Tilly's speech. "Elsie--I +mean, Miss Martin,--what did you find out to-day?" + +Elsie wrinkled her nose in a laughing grimace at Tilly, then began to +speak in an exaggeratedly solemn tone of voice. + +"I find Texas is so large, and contains so great a variety of soil, and +climate, that any product of the United States can be grown within its +limits. It is a leader on cotton. Corn, wheat, rice, peanuts, sugar cane +and potatoes are also grown, besides tobacco." + +"And watermelons, Elsie," cut in Bertha Brown. "I found in a paper that +just last year Texas grew 140,000,000 watermelons." + +"I was coming to the watermelons," observed Elsie, with dignity. + +"Wish I were--I dote on watermelons!" pouted Tilly in an audible aside +that brought a chuckle of appreciation from Harold Day. + +Cordelia gave her a reproachful look. Elsie went on, her chin a little +higher. + +"Texas is the greatest producer of honey in the United States. As for +the cattle--prior to 1775 there were vast ranches all over Southwestern +Texas, and herds of hundreds of wild cattle were gathered and driven to +New Orleans. I found some figures that told the number of animals in +1892, or about then. I'll give them. They're old now, of course, but +they'll do to show what a lot of animals there were there then." + +Elsie paused to take breath, but for only a moment. + +"There were 7,500,000 head of cattle, 5,000,000 sheep, and 1,210,000 +horses, besides more than 2,321,000 hogs." + +There was a sudden giggle from Tilly--an explosive giggle that brought +every amazed eye upon her. + +"Well, really, Tilly," disapproved Elsie, aggrievedly, "I'm sure I don't +see _what_ there was so very funny in that!" + +"There wasn't," choked Tilly; "only I was thinking, what an awful noise +it would be if all those 2,321,000 hogs got under the gate at once." + +"Tilly!" scolded Cordelia; but she laughed. + +She could not help it. They all laughed. Even the little boys and girls +on the outskirts giggled shrilly, and stole the opportunity to draw +nearer to the magic circle. Almost at once, however, Cordelia regained +her dignity. + +"Miss Mack, we'll hear from you, please--seriously, I mean. You haven't +told us yet what you've found." + +Tilly flushed a little. + +"I didn't find anything." + +"Why, Tilly Mack!" cried a chorus of condemning voices. + +"Well, I didn't," defended Tilly. "In the first place I've told +everything I can think of: trees, fruits, history, and everything; and +this morning I just had to go to Mrs. Miller's for a fitting." + +"Oh, Tilly, _another_ new dress?" demanded Elsie Martin, her voice a +pathetic wail of wistfulness. + +"But there are still so many things," argued Cordelia, her grave eyes +fixed on Tilly, "so many things to learn that--" She was interrupted by +an eager little voice from the outskirts. + +"I've got something, please, Cordelia. Mayn't I tell it? It's a +brand-newest thing. Nobody's said it once!" + +Cordelia turned to confront her ten-year-old cousin, Edith. + +"Why, Edith!" + +"And I have, too," piped up Edith's brother, Fred, with shrill +earnestness. (Fred was eight.) "And mine's new, too." + +Cordelia frowned thoughtfully. + +"But, children, you don't belong to the club. Only members can talk, you +know." + +"Pooh! let's hear it, Cordelia," shrugged Tilly. "I'm sure if it's +_new_, we need it--of all the old chestnuts we've heard to-day!" + +"Well," agreed Cordelia, "what is it, Edith? You spoke first." + +"It's gypsies," announced the small girl, triumphantly. + +"Gypsies!" chorused the Happy Hexagons in open unbelief. + +"Yes. There's lots of 'em there--more than 'most anywhere else in the +world." + +The girls looked at each other with puzzled eyes. + +"Why, I never heard Genevieve say anything about gypsies," ventured +Tilly. + +"Well, they're there, anyhow," maintained Edith; "I read it." + +"You read it! Where?" demanded Cordelia. + +"In father's big sac'l'pedia." Edith's voice sounded grieved, but +triumphant. "I was up in auntie's room, and I saw it. It was open on her +bed, and I read it. It said there was coal and iron and silver, and lots +and lots of gypsies." + +There was a breathless hush, followed suddenly by a shrieking laugh from +Tilly. + +"Oh, girls, girls!" she gasped. "That blessed child means 'gypsum.' I +saw that in papa's encyclopedia just the other day." + +"But what is gypsum?" demanded Alma Lane. + +"Mercy! don't ask me," shuddered Tilly. "I looked it up in the +dictionary, but it only said it was a whole lot of worse names. All I +could make out was that it had crystals, and was used for dressing for +soils, and for plaster of Paris. _Gypsies!_ Oh, Edith, Edith, what a +circus you are!" she chuckled, going into another gale of laughter. + +It was Fred's injured tones that filled the first pause in the general +hubbub that followed Tilly's explanation. + +"You haven't heard mine, yet," he challenged. "Mine's right!" + +"Well?" questioned Cordelia, wiping her eyes. (Even Cordelia had laughed +till she cried.) "What is yours, Fred?" + +"It's boats. There hasn't one of you said a single thing about the boats +you were going to ride in." + +"Boats!" cried the girls in a second chorus of unbelief. + +"Oh, you needn't try to talk me out of that," bristled the boy. "I +_know_ what _I'm_ talking about. Old Mr. Hodges told me himself. He's +been in 'em. He said that years and years ago, when he was a little boy +like me, he and his father and mother went 'way across the state of +Texas in a prairie schooner; and I asked father that night what a +schooner was, and he said it was a boat. Well, he did!" maintained Fred, +a little angrily, as a shout of laughter rose from the girls. + +"And so 'tis a boat--some kinds of schooners," Harold Day soothed the +boy quickly, rising to his feet, and putting a friendly arm about the +small heaving shoulders. "Come on, son, let's you and I go over to the +house. I've got a dandy picture of a prairie schooner over there, and +we'll hunt it up and see just what it looks like." And with a +ceremonious "Good day, ladies!" and an elaborate flourish of his hat +toward the Happy Hexagons, Harold drew the boy more closely into the +circle of his arm and turned away. + +It was the signal for a general breaking up of the club meeting. +Cordelia, only, looked a little anxiously after the two boys, as she +complained: + +"Harold never tells a thing that he knows about Texas, and he must know +a lot of things, even if he did leave there when he was a tiny little +baby!" + +"Don't you fret, Cordy," retorted Tilly. (Cordelia did not like to be +called "Cordy," and Tilly knew it.) "Harold Day will talk Texas all +right after Genevieve gets back. Besides, you couldn't expect a boy to +join in with a girls' club like us, just as if he were another +girl--specially as he isn't going to Texas, anyway." + +"Well, all he ever does is just to sit and look bored--except when +Tilly gets in some of her digs," chuckled Bertha. + +"Glad I'm good for something, if nothing but to stir up Harold, then," +laughed Tilly, as she turned away to answer Elsie Martin's anxious: +"Tilly, what color is the new dress? Is it red?" + +It was the next day that the letter came from Genevieve. Cordelia +brought it to the club meeting that afternoon; and so full of importance +and excitement was she that for once she quite forgot to open the +meeting with her usual ceremony. + +"Girls, girls, just listen to this!" she began breathlessly. + +The Happy Hexagons opened wide their eyes. Never before had they seen +the usually placid Cordelia like this. + +"Why, Cordelia, you're almost girlish!" observed Tilly, cheerfully. + +Cordelia did not seem even to hear this gibe. + +"It's a letter from Genevieve," she panted, as she hurriedly spread open +the sheet of note paper in her hand. + + "Dear Cordelia, and the whole Club," read + Cordelia, excitedly. "I came up yesterday from New + Jersey with the Hardings for two days in New York. + I have been to see the animals at the Zoo all the + afternoon, and I'm going to see the Hippodrome + this evening. That sounds like another animal but + it isn't one, they say. It's a place all lights + and music and crowds, and with a stage 'most as + big as Texas itself, with scores of real horses + and cowboys riding all over it. + + "I am having a perfectly beautiful time, but I + just can't wait to see my own beloved home on the + big prairie, and have you all there with me. I + sha'n't see it quite so soon though, for father + has been delayed about some of his business, and + he can't come for me quite so soon as he expected. + He says we sha'n't get away from Sunbridge until + the fifth; but he's engaged five sections in a + sleeper leaving Boston at eight P. M. So we'll go + then sure. + + "Mrs. Harding is calling me. Good-by till I see + you. We're coming the third. With heaps of love to + everybody, Your own + + "GENEVIEVE HARTLEY." + +"Well, I like that," bridled Tilly. "Just think--not go until the +fifth!" + +"Oh, but just think of going at all," comforted Alma Lane, hurriedly; +"and in sleepers, too! Sleepers are loads of fun. I rode in one fifty +miles, once--it wasn't in the night, though." + +"I rode in one at night!" Tilly's voice rose dominant, triumphant. + +"My stars!" + +"When?" + +"Where?" + +"What was it like?" + +"Was it fun?" + +"Why didn't you tell us?" + +Tilly laughed in keen enjoyment of the commotion she had created. + +"Don't you wish you knew?" she teased. "Just you wait and see!" + +"Yes, but, Tilly, do they lay you down on a little narrow shelf, +really?" worried Cordelia. + +"I sha'n't take off a single thing, anyhow," announced Bertha, with +decision, "not even my shoes. I'm just sure there'll be an accident!" + +Tilly laughed merrily. + +"A fine traveler you'll make, Bertha," she scoffed. "Sleepers are made +to sleep in, young lady--not to lie awake and worry in, for fear +there'll be an accident and you'll lose your shoes. As for you, Cordy, +and the shelf you're fretting over--there are shelves, in a way; but you +lay yourself down on them, my child. Nobody else does it for you." + +"Thank you," returned Cordelia, a little stiffly. Cordelia did not like +to be called "my child"--specially by Tilly, who was not quite sixteen, +and who was the youngest member of the club. + +"But, Tilly, are--are sleepers nice, daytimes?" asked Edith Wilson, who, +as usual, was hovering near. "I should think they'd be lovely for +nights--but I wouldn't like to have to lie down all day!" + +Tilly laughed so hard at this that Edith grew red of face indeed before +Alma patched matters up and made peace. + +It was the trip to Texas that was the all-absorbing topic of discussion +that day; and it was the trip to Texas that Cordelia Wilson was thinking +of as she walked slowly home that night after leaving the girls at the +corner. + +"I wonder--" she began just under her breath; then stopped short. An old +man, known as "Uncle Bill Hodges," stood directly in her path. + +"Miss Cordelia, I--I want to speak to ye, just a minute," he stammered. + +"Yes, sir." Cordelia smiled politely. + +The old man threw a suspicious glance over his shoulder, then came a +step nearer. + +"I ain't tellin' this everywhere, Miss Cordelia, and I don't want you to +say nothin'. You're goin' to Texas, they tell me." + +"Yes, Mr. Hodges, I am." Cordelia tried to make her voice sound properly +humble, but pride would vibrate through it. + +"Well, I--" The man hesitated, looked around again suspiciously, then +blurted out a storm of words with the rush of desperation. "I--years +ago, Miss Cordelia, I let a man in Boston have a lot of money. He said +'twas goin' into an oil well out in Texas, and that when it came back +there'd be a lot more with it a-comin' to me. So I let him have it. I +liked Texas, anyhow--I'd been there as a boy." + +"Yes," nodded Cordelia, smiling as she remembered the prairie schooner +that was Fred's "boat." + +"Well, for a while I did get money--dividends, he called 'em. Then it +all stopped off short. They shut the man up in prison, and closed the +office. And there's all my money! They do be sayin', too, that there +ain't no such place as this oil well there--that is, not the way he said +it was--so big and fine and promisin'. Well, now, of course I can't go +to see, Miss Cordelia--an old man like me, all the way to Texas. But you +are goin'. So I thought I'd just ask you to look around a little if you +happened to hear anything about this well. Maybe you could go and see +it, and then tell me. I've written down the name on this paper," +finished the man, thrusting his trembling fingers into his pocket, and +bringing out a small piece of not over-clean paper. + +"Why, of--of course, Mr. Hodges," promised Cordelia, doubtfully, as she +took the paper. "I'd love to do anything I could for you--anything! Only +I'm afraid I don't know much about oil wells, you see. Do they look just +like--water wells, with a pump or a bucket? Bertha's aunt has one of +those on her farm." + +"I don't know, child, I don't know," murmured the old man, shaking his +head sadly, as he turned away. "Sometimes I think there ain't any such +things, anyhow. But you'll do your best, I know. I can trust _you_!" + +"Why, of course," returned Cordelia, earnestly, slipping the bit of +paper into the envelope of Genevieve's letter in her hand. + +In her own room that night Cordelia Wilson got out her list marked +"Things to do in Texas," and studied it with troubled eyes. She had now +one more item to add to it--and it was already so long! + +She had started the list for her own benefit. Then had come the request +from queer old Hermit Joe to be on the lookout for his son who had gone +years ago to Texas. After that, commissions for others followed rapidly. +So many people had so many things they wanted her to do in Texas!--and +nobody wanted them talked about in Sunbridge. + +Slowly, with careful precision, she wrote down this last one. Then, a +little dubiously, she read over the list. + +See the blue bonnet--the Texas state flower. Find out if it really is +shaped like a bonnet. + +Bring home a piece of prairie grass. + +See a real buffalo. + +Find Hermit Joe's son, John, who ran away to Texas twenty years ago. + +See an Osage orange hedge. + +See a broncho bursted (obviously changed over from "busted"). + +Find out for Mrs. Miller if cowboys do shoot at sight, and yell always +without just and due provocation. + +See a mesquite tree. + +Inquire if any one has seen Mrs. Snow's daughter, Lizzie, who ran away +with a Texas man named Higgins. + +Pick a fig. + +See a rice canal. + +Find out what has become of Mrs. Granger's cousin, Lester Goodwin, who +went to Texas fourteen years ago. + +See cotton growing and pick a cotton boll, called "Texas Roses." + +See peanuts growing. + +Inquire for James Hunt, brother of Miss Sally Hunt. + +See a real Indian. + +Look at oil well for Mr. Hodges, and see if there is any there. + + * * * * * + +"Now if I can just fix all those people's names in my mind," mused +Cordelia, aloud; "and seems as if I might--there are only four. John +Sanborn, Lizzie Higgins, Lester Goodwin, and James Hunt," she chanted +over and over again. She was still droning the same refrain when she +fell asleep that night. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE COMING OF GENEVIEVE + + +Genevieve was to arrive in Sunbridge at three o'clock on the afternoon +of the third of July. Her father was to remain in Boston until one of +the evening trains. The Happy Hexagons, knowing Genevieve's plans, +decided to give her a welcome befitting the club and the occasion. They +invited Harold Day, of course, to join them. + +Harold laughed good-humoredly. + +"Oh, I'll be there all right, at the station," he assured them. "I've +got Mrs. Kennedy's permission to bring her up to the house; but I don't +think I'll join in on your show. I'll let you girls do that." + +The girls pouted a little, but they were too excited to remain long out +of humor. + +"Don't our dresses look pretty! I know Genevieve'll be pleased," sighed +Elsie Martin, as, long before the train was due that afternoon, the +girls arrived at the station. + +"Of course she'll be pleased," cried Alma Lane. "She can't help it. I +can hear her laugh and clap her hands now, when she sees us--and hears +us!" + +"So can I," echoed Bertha. "And how her eyes will dance! I love to see +Genevieve's eyes dance." + +"So do I," chorused the others, fervently. + +Sunbridge was a quiet little town in southern New Hampshire near the +state line. It had wide, tree-shaded streets, and green-shuttered white +houses set far back in spacious lawns. The station at this hour was even +quieter than the town, and there were few curious eyes to question the +meaning of the unusual appearance of five laughing, excited young girls, +all dressed alike, and all showing flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. + +At one minute before three o'clock, a tall, good-looking youth drove up +in a smart trap, and was hailed with shouts of mingled joy and relief. + +"Oh, Harold, we were just sure you were going to be late," cried +Cordelia. + +"Late? Not I--to-day!" laughed the boy. Then, with genuine admiration: +"Say, that is pretty slick, girls. I'll take off my hat to the Happy +Hexagons to-day all right!" he finished, with an elaborate flourish. + +"Thank you," twittered Tilly, saucily. "Now don't you wish you had +joined us? But then--_you_ couldn't have worn a white frock!" + +A prolonged bell-clanging and the rumble of an approaching train +prevented Harold's reply, and sent the girls into a flutter of +excitement. A moment later they stood in line, waiting, breathless with +suspense. + +They made a wonderfully pretty picture. Each girl was in white, even to +her shoes and stockings. Around each waist was a sash of a handsome +shade of blue. The same color showed at the throat and on the hair. + +Quietly they watched the train roll into the station, and still quietly +they stood until a tall, slender girl with merry brown eyes and soft +fluffy brown hair appeared at a car door and tripped lightly down the +steps to the platform. They waited only till she ran toward them; then +in gleeful chorus they chanted: + + "Texas, Texas, Tex--Tex--Texas! + Texas, Texas, Rah! Rah! Rah! + GENEVIEVE!" + +What happened next was a surprise. Genevieve did not laugh, nor cry out, +nor clap her hands. Her eyes did not dance. She stopped and fumbled with +the fastening of her suit-case. The next minute the train drew out of +the station, and the girls were left alone in their corner. Genevieve +looked up, at that, and came swiftly toward them. + +They saw then: the brown eyes were full of tears. + +The girls had intended to repeat their Texas yell; but with one accord +now they cried out in dismay: + +[Illustration: "A TALL, SLENDER GIRL ... APPEARED AT A CAR DOOR"] + +"Genevieve! Why, Genevieve, you're--crying!" + +"I know I am, and I could shake myself," choked Genevieve, hugging each +girl in turn spasmodically. + +"But, Genevieve, what is the matter?" appealed Cordelia. + +"I don't know, I don't know--and that's what's the trouble," wailed +Genevieve. "I don't know why I'm crying when I'm so g-glad to see you. +But I reckon 'twas that--'Texas'!" + +"But we thought you'd like that," argued Elsie. + +"I did--I do," stammered Genevieve, incoherently; "and it made me cry to +think I did--I mean, to think I do--so much!" + +"Well, we're glad you did, or do, anyhow," laughed Harold Day, holding +out his hand. "And we're glad you're back again. I've got Jerry here and +the cart. This your bag?" + +"Yes, right here; and thank you, Harold," she smiled a little mistily. +"And girls, you're lovely--just lovely; and I don't know why I'm crying. +But you're to come over--straight over to the house this very afternoon. +I want to hear that 'T-Texas' again. I want to hear it six times +running!" she finished, as she sprang lightly into the cart. + +On the way with Harold, she grew more calm. + +"You see, once, last fall, I said I hated Sunbridge, and that I wouldn't +stay," she explained a little shame-facedly. + +"You said you hated it!" cried Harold. "You never told me that. Why, I +thought you liked it here." + +"I do, now, and I did--very soon, specially after I'd met some one I +could talk Texas to all I wanted to--_you_, you know! I reckon I never +told you, but you were a regular safety valve for me in those days." + +"Was I?" laughed the lad. + +"Yes, even from that first day," nodded Genevieve, with a half-wistful +smile. "Did I ever tell you the reason, the real reason, why Aunt Julia +called you into the yard that afternoon?" + +"Why, no--not that I know of." Harold's face showed a puzzled frown. + +"Well, 'twas this. I'd been here a week, and I was so homesick and +lonesome for father and the ranch and all. I was threatening to go back. +I declared I'd walk back, if there was no other way. Poor Aunt Julia! +She tried everything. Specially she tried to have me meet some nice +girls, but I just wouldn't. I said I didn't want any girls that weren't +Texas girls. I didn't want anything that wasn't Texas. That's what I'd +been saying that very day out under the trees there, when Aunt Julia +looked toward the street, saw you, and called you into the yard." + +"Is _that_ why she introduced me as the boy who was born in Texas?" +laughed Harold. + +"Yes; and you know how I began to talk Texas right away." + +"But I couldn't help much--I left there when I was a baby." + +"I know, but you'd been there," laughed Genevieve, "and that helped. +Then, through you, I met your cousin Alma, and the rest was easy, for I +always had you for that safety valve, to talk Texas to. You see, it was +just that I got homesick. All my life I'd lived on the ranch, and things +here were so different. I didn't like to--to mind Mrs. Kennedy and Miss +Jane, very well, I suspect. You see, at the ranch I'd always had my own +way, and--I liked it." + +"Well, I'm sure that's natural," nodded Harold. + +"I know; but I wasn't nice about it," returned the girl, wistfully. +"Father said I must do everything--everything they said. And I tried to. +But Miss Jane had such heaps of things for me to do, and such tiresome +things, like dusting and practising, and learning to cook and to sew! +And it all was specially hard when you remember that I didn't want to +come East in the first place. But I love it here, now; you know I do. +Every one has been so good to me! Aunt Julia is a dear." + +"And--Miss Jane?" queried Harold, eyeing her a little mischievously. + +Genevieve blushed. + +"Miss Jane? Well, she's 'most a dear, too--sometimes. As for +Sunbridge--I love both the East and the West now. Don't you see? But, +to-day, coming up from Boston, I got to thinking about it--my dear +prairie home; and how I had hated to leave it, and how now I was going +back to it with Aunt Julia and the girls all with me. And I was so +happy, so wonderfully happy, that a great big something rose within me, +and I felt so--so queer, as if I could fly, and fly, and _fly_! And +then, when I saw the girls all dressed alike so prettily, and heard the +'Texas, Texas, Texas'--what did I do? I didn't do anything but +cry--_cry_, Harold, just as if I didn't like things. And the girls were +so disappointed, I know they were!" + +"Never mind; I guess you can make them understand--anyhow, you have me," +said Harold, trying to speak with a lightness that would hide the fact +that her words had made him, too, feel "queer." Harold did not enjoy +feeling "queer." + +A moment later they turned into the broad white driveway that led up to +the Kennedy home. + +On the veranda of the fine old house stood a sweet-faced, +motherly-looking woman with tender eyes and a loving smile. Near her was +a taller, younger woman with eyes almost as interested, and a smile +almost as cordial. + +"You dears--both of you!" cried Genevieve, running up the steps and +into the arms of the two women. + +"Thank you, Harold," smiled Mrs. Kennedy over Genevieve's bobbing head; +"thank you for bringing our little girl home." + +"As if I wasn't glad to do it!" laughed the boy, gallantly, as he picked +up the reins and sprang into the cart. To the horse he added later, when +quite out of earshot of the ladies: "Jerry, I'm thinking Genevieve isn't +the only one in that house that has 'improved' since last August. It +strikes me that Miss Jane Chick has done a little on her own account. +Did you see that smile? That was a really, truly smile, Jerry. Not the +'I-suppose-I-must' kind!" + +Genevieve and the two ladies were still on the veranda when the five +white-clad girls turned in at the broad front walk. + +"We came around this way home," announced Tilly. "You _said_ you wanted +us." + +"Want you! Well, I reckon I do," cried Genevieve, springing to her feet. +"Come up here this minute! Now say it--say it again--that thing you did +at the station. I want Aunt Julia to hear it--and Miss Jane." + +The change in Genevieve's voice and manner was unconscious, but it was +very evident. No one noticed it apparently, however, but Tilly; and she +only puckered her lips into an odd little smile as she formed in line +with the other girls: Tilly was not without some experience herself with +Miss Jane and her ways. + +"Now, one, two, three, ready!" counted Cordelia, sternly, her face a +tragedy of responsibility lest this final triumph of their labors should +be anything less than the glorious success the occasion demanded. + +Once more five eager, girlish countenances faced squarely front. Once +more five fresh young voices chanted with lusty precision: + + "Texas, Texas, Tex--Tex--Texas! + Texas, Texas, Rah! Rah! Rah! + GENEVIEVE!" + +It was finished. Cordelia, with the expression of one from whom the +weight of nations has been lifted, drew a happy sigh, and looked +confidently about for her reward. Almost at once, however, her face +clouded perplexedly. + +Genevieve was dancing lightly on her toes and clapping her hands softly. +Mrs. Kennedy was laughing with her handkerchief to her lips. But Miss +Jane Chick--Miss Jane Chick was sitting erect, her eyes plainly +horrified, her hands clapped to her ears. + +"Children, children!" she gasped, as soon as there was a chance for her +voice to be heard. "You don't mean to say that you did _that_--at a +public railroad station!" + +Cordelia looked distressed. The other girls bit their lips and lifted +their chins just a little: they did not like to be called "children." + +"But, Miss Chick," stammered Cordelia, "we didn't think--that is, we +wanted to do something to welcome Genevieve, and--and--" Cordelia +stopped, and swallowed chokingly. + +"But to shout like that," protested Miss Chick. "You--_young ladies_!" + +The girls bit their lips still harder and lifted their chins still +higher: they were not quite sure whether they more disliked to be +"children" or "young ladies"--in that tone of voice. + +"Oh, but Miss Jane," argued Genevieve, "you know Sunbridge station is +just dead, simply dead at three o'clock in the afternoon. Nobody ever +comes on that train, hardly, and there wasn't a soul around but that +sleepy Mr. Jones and the station men, and that old Mrs. Palmer. And you +know _she_ wouldn't hear a gun go off right under her nose." + +"Genevieve, my dear!" murmured Mrs. Kennedy--but her eyes were +twinkling. + +Cordelia still looked troubled. + +"I know, Genevieve," she frowned anxiously, "but I never thought of it +that way--what others would think. Maybe we ought not to have done it, +after all. But I'm sure we didn't mean any harm." + +Promptly, now, Mrs. Kennedy came to the rescue. + +"Of course you did not, dear child," she said, smiling into Cordelia's +troubled eyes; "and it was very sweet and lovely of you girls to think +of giving Genevieve such a pretty welcome. Oh, of course," she added +with a whimsical glance at her sister, "we shouldn't exactly advise you +to make a practice of welcoming everybody home in that somewhat +startling fashion. That really wouldn't do, you know. Sunbridge station +might not be quite so dead next time," she finished, meeting Genevieve's +grateful eyes. + + * * * * * + +"That really was dear of you, Aunt Julia," confided Genevieve some time +later, after the girls had gone, and when she and Mrs. Kennedy were +alone together. (Miss Jane had gone up-stairs.) "Only think of the pains +they took--to get themselves up to look so pretty, besides learning to +give that yell so finely. I was so afraid they'd be hurt at what Miss +Jane said! And I wouldn't want them hurt--after all that!" + +"Of course you wouldn't," smiled Mrs. Kennedy; "and my sister wouldn't +either, dear." + +Genevieve stirred restlessly. + +"I know she wouldn't, Aunt Julia; but--but the girls don't know it. +They--they don't understand Miss Jane." + +"And do you--always?" The question was gently put, but its meaning was +unmistakable. + +Genevieve colored. + +"Maybe not--quite always; but--Miss Jane is so--so shockable!" + +Mrs. Kennedy made a sudden movement. Apparently she only stooped to pick +up a small thread from the floor, but when she came upright her face was +a deeper red than just that exertion would seem to occasion. + +"Genevieve, have you been to your room since you came home?" she asked. +There were times when Mrs. Kennedy could change the subject almost as +abruptly as could Genevieve herself. + +"No, Aunt Julia. You know Nancy carried up my suit-case, and I've been +too busy telling you all about my visit to think of anything else." + +"Oh," smiled Mrs. Kennedy. "I was just wondering." + +Genevieve frowned in puzzled questioning. + +"Well, I'm going up right away, anyhow," she said. "Mercy! I reckon I'll +go up right now," she added laughingly, springing to her feet as there +came through the open window behind her the sound of a clock striking +half-past five. "I had no idea it was so late." + +Genevieve was not many minutes in her room before she ceased to wonder +at Mrs. Kennedy's questioning; for in plain sight on her dressing-table +she soon found a small white box addressed to Genevieve Hartley. The +box, upon being opened, disclosed in a white velvet nest a beautiful +little chatelaine watch in dark blue enamel and gold. + + "To keep Genevieve's time. + With much love from + Jane Chick." + +read Genevieve on the little card that was with the watch. + +"Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!" breathed the girl, hovering over the watch in +delight. "And to think what I said!" With a heightened color she turned, +tripped across the room and hurried down the hall to Miss Jane's door. + +"Miss Jane!" + +"Yes, dear." + +"May I come in?" + +"Yes, indeed." + +"I--I want to thank you--oh, I do want to thank you, but I don't know +how." Genevieve's eyes were misty. + +"For the watch? You like it, then?" + +"Like it! I just love it; and I never, never saw such a beauty!" + +"I'm glad you like it." + +There was a moment's pause. Over by the dressing-table Miss Jane was +carefully smoothing a refractory lock of hair into place. She looked so +calm, so self-contained, so--far away, thought Genevieve; if it had been +Aunt Julia, now! + +Suddenly the girl gave a little skipping run and enveloped the lady in +two wide-flung young arms, thereby ruffling up more than ever the +carefully smoothed lock of hair. + +"Miss, Jane, I--I've just got to hug you, anyway!" + +"Why, Genevieve, my dear!" murmured Miss Jane, a little dazedly. + +From the door Genevieve called back incoherently--the hug had been as +short in duration as it had been sudden in action: + +"I don't think I can be late now, Miss Jane, ever--with that lovely +thing to keep time for me. And I wanted you to know--next year, when I +come back, I'm just sure I shall cook and sew beautifully, and do my +practising and everything, without once being told. And if I do sprain +my ankle I'll be a perfect angel--truly I will. And I won't ever keep +folks waiting, either, or--mercy! there's Nancy's first ring now, and +I'm not one bit ready!" she broke off, as the musical notes of a Chinese +gong sounded from the hall below. The next moment Miss Jane was alone +with her thoughts--and with the lock of hair that she was still trying +to smooth. + +"Dear child!" smiled the lady. Then she turned abruptly and hastened +from the room, her hair still unsmoothed. "I'll just tell Nancy to be a +little slow about ringing that second gong," she murmured. + +When Genevieve came down-stairs to supper that night, she brought with +her two books: one a small paper-covered one, the other a larger one +bound in dark red leather. + +"Here's the latest 'Pathfinder'--only I call it 'Path_loser_,'" she +laughed, handing the smaller book to Miss Jane Chick; "and here +is--well, just see what is here," she finished impressively, spreading +open the leather-covered book before Mrs. Kennedy's eyes. + +"'Chronicles of the Hexagon Club,'" read Mrs. Kennedy. "Oh, a journal!" +she smiled. + +"Yes, Aunt Julia. Isn't it lovely?" + +"Indeed it is! Who will keep it?" + +"All of us. We are going to take turns. We shall write a day apiece--we +six Happy Hexagons of the Hexagon Club." + +"Do the girls know about it?" asked Miss Jane. + +"Not yet. I just thought of it yesterday when I saw the book in the +store. Father bought it for the club--of course _my_ money was gone long +ago--at such a time as _this_," she explained with laughing emphasis. +"I'm going to show the book to the girls to-morrow. Won't they be +tickled--I mean pleased," corrected Genevieve, throwing a hasty glance +into Miss Jane's smiling eyes. + +"I think they will," agreed that lady, pleasantly. + +The girls were pleased, indeed, when Genevieve told of her plan and +showed the book the next day. But even so entrancing a subject as a +journal kept by each in turn could not hold their attention long; for +time was very short now, and in every household there were a +dozen-and-one last things to be done before the momentous fifth of July. +Even the Fourth, with its fun and its firecrackers had no charms for the +Happy Hexagons. Of so little consequence did they consider it, indeed, +that at last one small boy quite lost his patience. + +"You won't fire my crackers, you won't take me to the picnic, you won't +play ball, you won't do anything," he complained to his absorbed sister. +"I shall be just glad when this old Texas thing is over!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +ON THE WAY + + +All the girls' friends came to see them off at the station that fifth of +July. + +"Mercy! it would never do to spring our Texas yell to-day," chuckled +Tilly, eyeing the assembled crowd; "but wouldn't I like to, though!" + +"There's nothing dead about Sunbridge now, sure," laughed Genevieve. + +"I should say not," declared Harold Day, who had begged the privilege of +going to Boston to see them aboard their train for Washington. + +"For you see," he had argued, "it's to my state, after all, that you are +going, so I ought to be allowed to do the honors at this end of the trip +as long as I can't at the other!" + +They were off at last, Mrs. Kennedy, Mr. Hartley, the six girls, and +Harold. But what a scrambling it was, and what a confusion of chatter, +laughter, "good-byes," and "write soons"! + +In Boston there was a thirty-minute wait in the South Station before +their train was due to leave; but long before the thirty minutes were +over, the usually serene face of Mrs. Kennedy began to look flushed and +worried. + +"Genevieve, my dear," she expostulated at last, "can't you keep those +flutterbudget girls somewhere near together? It will be time, soon, to +take our train, and only Cordelia is in sight. Not even Harold and your +father are here!" + +Genevieve laughed soothingly. + +"I know, Aunt Julia; but they'll be here, I'm sure. There's still lots +of time," she added, glancing proudly at her pretty new watch. + +"But where are they all?" + +"Tilly and Elsie have gone for some soda water, and Bertha for a +sandwich at the lunch counter. She said she just couldn't eat a thing +before she left home. Alma Lane has gone to a drug store across the +street. I don't know where father and Harold are. They went off +together, and--oh, here they are!" she broke off in relief, as the two +wanderers appeared. + +"And now," summoned Mr. Hartley, "we'll be off to our car! Why, where +are the rest of us?" + +"Well, they--they aren't all here," frowned Genevieve, a little +anxiously. + +As at Sunbridge, it was a rush and a scramble at the last. Tilly, Elsie, +and Bertha came back, but Genevieve went to look for Alma Lane; and when +Alma returned without having seen Genevieve, Harold had to run +post-haste for her. + +"Sure, dearie," said Mr. Hartley to his daughter, laughingly, when at +last he had his charges all in the car, "this is a little worse than +trying to corral a bunch of bronchos!" + +"Oh, but we won't be so bad again," promised the girl, waving her hand +to Harold, who stood alone outside the window, watching them a little +wistfully. + +They had a merry time getting settled, and more than one tired +countenance in the car brightened at sight of the six eager young faces. + +"I couldn't get all five sections together," frowned Mr. Hartley. "I got +three here, but the other two are down near the end of the car--you know +the porter showed you. Do you think we can make them go, some way?" he +questioned Mrs. Kennedy, anxiously. "I planned for you to have one of +the sections down there by yourself, perhaps, with two of the young +ladies in the other. Will that do?" + +"Of course it will--and finely, too," declared the lady. "Genevieve, you +and I will go down there and take one of the girls with us--perhaps +Bertha. That will leave your father for one up here, Elsie and Alma for +another, and Tilly and Cordelia for the third." + +"I knew she'd put you with Cordelia," chuckled Bertha to Tilly, under +cover of their scramble to pick out their suit-cases from the pile in +which the porter had left them. "And I'm sure you ought to be," she +laughed. "There'll be some hopes then that you'll be kept in order!" + +"Just look to yourself," retorted Tilly, serenely. "Mrs. Kennedy put +_you_ down there near _her_--remember that!" + +"I declare, I felt just like an orange," giggled Elsie, "with all that +talk about 'sections.'" + +"I don't see where the shelves are," whispered Cordelia, craning her +short little neck to its full extent. + +"You'll see them all right," promised Tilly. "Just wait till it's dark, +then--'The goblins'll get ye if ye don't watch out!'" she quoted, with +mock impressiveness. + +"I feel as if I were ten years old, and playing house," chirped Alma +Lane, as she happily frowned over just the proper place for her bag. + +"I feel as if it were all a dream, and that I shall wake up right at +home," breathed Cordelia. "Seems as if it just couldn't be true--that +we're really going to Texas! Oh, Genevieve, we can't ever thank you and +your father enough," she finished, as Genevieve came up the aisle. + +"As if we wanted thanks, after what you've done for me!" cried +Genevieve. "Besides, you girls can't be half so glad to go as I am to +have you!" + +Some time later the porter began to make up the berths. + +Tilly nudged Cordelia violently. + +"There's shelf number one, Cordy. How do you think you'll like it?" she +asked. + +Cordelia was too absorbed even to notice the hated "Cordy." With +wide-eyed, breathless interest she was watching the porter. + +"I think--it's the most wonderful thing--I ever saw," she breathed in an +awestruck voice. + +It was after the car was quiet that night that Genevieve, in her upper +berth, pulled apart the heavy curtains and peeped out into the long +narrow aisle between the swaying draperies. + +The train was moving very rapidly. The air was heavy and close. The +night was an uncomfortably warm one. Genevieve had been too excited to +sleep. Even yet it did not seem quite real--that the Happy Hexagons were +all there with her, and that they were going to her far-away Texas home. + +With a sigh the girl fell back on her pillow, and tried to coax sleep to +come to her. But sleep refused to come. Instead, the whole panorama of +her Eastern winter unrolled itself before her, peopled with little fairy +sprites, who danced with twinkling feet and smiled at her mockingly. + +"Oh, yes, I know you," murmured Genevieve, drowsily. "I know you all. +You--you little black one--you're the cake I forgot in the oven, and let +burn up. And you're the lessons I didn't learn--there are heaps of you! +And you--you're those horrid scales I never could catch up with. My, +how you run now! And you--you little shamed one over in the +corner--you're the prank I played on Miss Jane.... Oh, you can dance +now--but you won't, by and by! Next year there won't be any of you--not +a one left. I'm going to be so good, so awfully good; and I'm not going +to ever forget, or to cause anybody any trouble, or--" + +With a start Genevieve sat erect in her berth, fully awake. + +"Mercy! What a jounce that was!" she cried, just above her breath. "But +we seem to be going all right now." + +Cautiously she parted her curtains and peeped out again. The next +instant she almost gave a little shriek: she was looking straight into +Bertha Brown's upraised, startled eyes, just below her. + +"Was that an accident?" chattered Bertha. "I told you there'd be one! +I'm all dressed, anyhow--if 'tis!" + +"Sh-h! No, goosey," chuckled Genevieve. + +She would have said more but, at that moment, from up the aisle sounded +a sibilant "S-s-s-s!" They turned to see a somewhat untidy fluff of red +hair above a laughing, piquant face. + +"It's Tilly! She's motioning to us. Say, let's go," whispered Genevieve. +And cautiously she began to let herself down from her perch. + +The next moment Bertha, fully dressed, and Genevieve in her long, dark +blue kimono, were tripping softly up the aisle. + +"Why, you're both down here," exulted Genevieve, as she climbed into the +lower berth. + +"Yes; Cordelia was afraid," giggled Tilly, "so I came down." + +"Tilly!--I was not," disputed Cordelia, in an indignant whisper. "You +came of your own accord." + +"Pooh! Tilly's fooling, and we know it," soothed Bertha, climbing into +the berth after Genevieve. + +"Why, Bertha Brown, you've got your shoes on!" gasped Tilly, forgetting +to whisper. + +"Of course I have," retorted Bertha. "Do you suppose--sh!" + +There was a tug at the curtains, and Elsie Martin's round, good-natured +face peered in. + +"Well, I like this," she bridled. "A special meeting of the Hexagon +Club, and me not notified! I heard Genevieve and Bertha giggling in the +aisle. Are you all here?" + +"All but Alma," rejoined Tilly, in an exultant whisper. "Say, get her, +too!" + +"Well, now, if this isn't just a lark," crowed Bertha, gleefully, when +the last of the six girls had crowded themselves into the narrow berth. + +"Ouch! my head," groaned Genevieve, as a soft thud threw the other girls +into stifled laughter. + +"Pooh! I've been hitting my head against the up-stairs flat ever since I +went to bed," quoth Elsie. "Isn't it fun! Now let's talk." + +"What about?" + +"Texas, of course," cut in Tilly. "Girls, girls, wouldn't it be glorious +to give our Texas yell, though, and see what happened!" + +"Tilly!" gasped the shocked Cordelia. + +"Oh, I wasn't going to, of course," chuckled Tilly, softly. "I was just +imaginin', you know." + +"But even this--I'm not sure we ought--" began Cordelia. + +"No, of course not; you never are, Cordy," agreed Tilly, smoothly. + +"But let's talk Texas--we can whisper, you know. Tell us about Texas, +Genevieve," cut in pacifier Alma, hurriedly. "What's it like--the +ranch?" + +Genevieve drew a happy sigh. + +"Why, it's like--it's like nothing in Texas, we think," she breathed. +"Of course we don't think any other ranch could come up to the Six +Star!" + +Tilly gave a sudden cry. + +"The what?" + +"The Six Star--our ranch, you know." + +"You mean it's named the 'Six Star Ranch'?" demanded Tilly. + +"Sure! Didn't I ever tell you?" retorted Genevieve in plain surprise. + +Tilly clapped her hands softly. + +"_Did_ you! Well, I should say not! You've always called it just 'the +ranch.' And now--why, girls, don't you see?--it's _our_ ranch. It +couldn't have had a better name if we'd had it built to order. It's the +Six Star Ranch--and we're the six star girls--the Happy Hexagons. And to +think we never knew it before!" + +There was a chorus of half-stifled exclamations of delight; then +Cordelia demanded anxiously: + +"But, Genevieve, will they be glad to see us, really--all your people +out there?" + +"Glad! I reckon they will be," averred Genevieve, warmly. "The boys will +give us a rousing welcome, and there won't be anything too good for Mr. +Tim and Mammy Lindy to do." + +"Who are they?" asked Tilly. + +"Mr. Tim is the ranch foreman, 'the boss,' the boys call him. He's been +with us ever since I can remember, and he's so good to me! Mammy Lindy +is--well, Mammy Lindy is a dear! You'll love Ol' Mammy. She's been just +a mother to me ever since my own mother died eight years ago." +Genevieve's voice faltered a little, then went on more firmly. "She's a +negro woman, you know. Her people were slaves, once." + +"And--the--boys?" asked Cordelia, dubiously. "Are they your--brothers, +Genevieve?" + +Genevieve laughed--a little more loudly than perhaps she realized. + +"Brothers!--well, hardly! The boys are the cowboys--on the ranch, you +know. My, but they'll give us a welcome! I reckon they'll ride into town +to give it, too, in all their war paint. Just you wait till you see the +boys--and hear them!" And Genevieve laughed again. + +All in the dark Cordelia looked distinctly shocked; but, being in the +dark, nobody noticed it. + +"Well, I for one just can't wait," began Tilly, hugging herself with her +arms about her knees. "Only think, it'll be whole days _now_ before we +get there, and--" + +"Young ladies!" + +Tilly stopped with a little cry of dismay. A man's voice had spoken +close to her ear. + +"Young ladies," came the mellow tones again. "I begs yo' pardon, but de +lady what belongs down in number ten says maybe you done forgot dat dis +am a _sleepin'_ car." + +"Aunt Julia!" breathed Genevieve. "She's number ten." + +"She sent the porter," gasped Cordelia. "How--how awful!--and you're in +my house, too," she almost sobbed. + +"Now I know we're playing house," tittered Alma Lane, hysterically, as +she followed Genevieve out of the berth. + +Once more in her own quarters, Genevieve lay back on her pillow with a +remorseful sigh. + +"I don't see why it's so much easier to _say_ you'll never give anybody +any trouble than 'tis to _do_ it," she lamented, as she turned over with +a jerk. + +The girls began the "Chronicles of the Hexagon Club" the next morning. +Genevieve made the first entry. She dwelt at some length on the +confusion of the train-taking, both at Sunbridge and Boston. She also +had something to say of Tilly Mack. She gave a full account, too, of the +midnight session of the Hexagon Club in Cordelia's berth. + +"And I'm ashamed that Aunt Julia had to be ashamed of me so soon," she +wrote contritely. + +Cordelia Wilson had agreed to make the second entry in the book; but the +heat, the loss of sleep, and the strangeness and excitement added to her +distress that "her house" should have been made to seem a disgrace in +the eyes of the whole car, all conspired to make her feel so ill that +she declared she could not think of writing for a day or two. + +"Very well, then, you sha'n't write; we'll hand the book to Tilly," said +Genevieve, "and then we'll give it to some of the others. But I'll tell +you what we will do, Cordelia; you shall make the last entry in the book +just before we leave the train at Bolo. And you can make it a sort of +retrospect--a 'review lesson' of the whole, you know." + +"But I thought the others--won't they each tell their day?" + +"That's _just_ what they'll tell--their day," retorted Genevieve, +whimsically. "You _know_ what most of them are. Alma Lane would be all +right, and would give a true description of everything; only she would +go into particulars so, that she would tell everything she saw from the +windows, and just what she had to eat all day, down to the last olive." + +"I know," nodded Cordelia, with a faint smile. + +"As for Tilly--you can't get real sense, of course, from her part. If +there's any nonsense going, Tilly Mack will find it and trot it out. +Bertha Brown will take up the most of her space by saying 'I always said +that--' etc., etc. Bertha is a dear--but you know she does just love to +say 'I told you so.' Elsie will write clothes, of course. We shall find +out what everybody has on when Elsie writes." + +Cordelia laughed aloud--then clapped her hand to her aching head. + +"You poor dear! What a shame," sympathized Genevieve. "But, Cordelia, +why does Elsie think so much of clothes? Mercy! for my part I think +they're the most tiresome sort of things to bother with; and it's such a +waste of time to be having to change your dress always!" + +Cordelia smiled; then her face sobered. + +"Poor Elsie! I'm sorry for Elsie. She does have such an unhappy time +over clothes." + +"Why? How?--or isn't it fair to tell?" added Genevieve, with quick +loyalty. + +"Oh, yes, it's fair. Everybody knows it, 'most, and I supposed you did. +Elsie herself tells of it. You know she lives with her aunt, Mrs. Gale. +Well, Mrs. Gale has three daughters, Fannie, about twenty-one, I guess, +and the twins, nineteen; and she just loves to make over their things +for Elsie--so she does it." + +"Are they so very--poor, then?" + +"Oh, no; they aren't poor at all. I don't think she really has to do it. +Aunt Mary says she's just naturally thrifty, and that she loves to make +them over. But you see, poor Elsie almost never has a new dress--of new +material, I mean. Now Elsie loves red; but Fannie wears blue a lot, and +the twins like queer shades like faded-out greens and browns which Elsie +abhors. Poor Elsie--no wonder she's always looking at clothes!" + +"Hm-m; no wonder," nodded Genevieve, her pitying eyes on Elsie far down +the aisle--Elsie, who, in a mustard-colored striped skirt and pongee +blouse, was at that moment trying to perk up the loppy blue bows on a +somewhat faded tan straw hat. "Well, anyhow," added Genevieve, with a +sigh, "just remember, Cordelia, that you're to do the last day of the +trip in the Chronicles. Now lie down and give your poor head a rest." + + * * * * * + +Long before the last day of the journey came, Cordelia had quite +recovered from her headache; but, in accordance with Genevieve's plan, +she did not add her share to the Chronicles until the appointed time. +Then, with almost a reverent air, she accepted the book and pen from +Genevieve's hands, and returned to the seclusion of her seat, rejoicing +that Tilly was playing checkers with Bertha, and so would not, +presumably, disturb her--for a time, at least. + +"To-day, at noon, we are to arrive at Bolo," she wrote a little +unevenly; then with a firmer hand she went on. "Genevieve says this +ought to be a retrospect, and touch lightly upon the whole trip; so I +will try to make it so. + +"It has been a beautiful journey. Nothing serious has happened, though +Bertha has worn her shoes all the time expecting it. The best thing, so +far, was our lovely day in Washington that Mr. Hartley gave us, and the +President. (I mean, we saw him and he smiled.) And the worst thing +(except that first night in my berth that Genevieve wrote of) was the +time we lost Tilly for three whole hours, and Mrs. Kennedy got so +nervous and white and frightened. We supposed, of course, she had fallen +off, or jumped off, or got left off at some station. But just as we +were talking with the porter about telegraphing everywhere, she danced +in with two very untidy, unclean little Armenian children. It seems she +had been in the emigrant car all the time playing with the children and +trying to make the men and women talk their queer English. I never knew +that gentle Mrs. Kennedy could speak so sharply as she did then to +Tilly. + +"And now--since Tuesday, some time--we have really been in Texas. Some +things look just like Eastern things, but others are so strange and +queer. It is very hot--I mean, very warm, too. But then, we have just as +warm days in Sunbridge, I guess. The windmills look so queer--there are +such a lot of them; but they look pretty, too. Some of the towns are +very pretty, also, with their red roofs and blue barns and houses. +Genevieve says lots of them are German villages. + +"In some places lots of things are growing, but in others it is all just +gray and bare-looking with nothing much growing except those queer +prairie-dog cities with the funny little creatures sitting on top of +their houses, or popping down into their holes only to turn around and +look at you out of their bright little eyes. We had a splendid chance to +see them once when our train stopped right in the middle of a prairie +for a long time. We got off and walked quite a way with Mr. Hartley. I +saw a rattlesnake, and I'm afraid I screamed. I screamed again when the +horrid thing wiggled into one of the dog houses. Mr. Hartley says they +live together sometimes, but if I were that dog he wouldn't live with +me! + +"We have seen lots of cattle and goats and hogs--though Tilly says she +hasn't seen any of the latter under any gate yet. I have seen a mesquite +tree (so I have done one of my things), and it _does_ have thorns. We +are on another prairie now, and oh, how big it is, and such a lot of +grass as there is on it--just as far as you can see, grass, grass, +grass! I guess there won't be any danger of my not having plenty of that +to take home. I have seen lots of men on horseback, but I don't know +whether they were cowboys or not. They did not shoot, anyway, but some +of them did yell. + +"Genevieve says cowboys are to meet us, and that probably they will come +away to Bolo in full war paint. I thought it was only Indians who +painted--except silly ladies, of course--and I was going to say so; but +Tilly was there, so I didn't like to. Of course I ought not to mind the +cowboys--if Genevieve likes them, and they are her friends; but I can't +help remembering what Mrs. Miller told me about their 'shooting up +towns' in a very dreadful way when they were angry. I hope none of the +men I want to find will turn out to be cowboys." (Here there were signs +of an attempted erasure, but the words still stood, and immediately +after them came another sentence.) "That is, I mean I should hate to +find that any friends of mine had become cowboys. + +"I have just been reading over what I have written, and I am +disappointed in it. I am sure I ought to have mentioned a great many +things about which I have been silent. But there were so many things, +and they all crowded at once before me, so that I had to just touch on +the big things and the tall things--like windmills, for instance. + +"We are getting nearer Bolo now, and I must stop and eat some luncheon, +Genevieve says, as we sha'n't have anything else till supper on the +ranch. Oh, I am so excited! Seems as if I couldn't draw a breath deep +enough. And the idea of trying to eat when I feel like this!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE BOYS PREPARE A WELCOME + + +On the back gallery of the long, low ranch house, the boys were waiting +for Teresa to ring the bell for supper. Comfortably they lolled about on +hammocks, chairs, and steps, with their shirts open at the neck and +plentifully powdered with the dust of the corral. + +From the doorway, Tim Nolan, the ranch foreman, spoke to them hurriedly. + +"See here, boys, I'm right sorry, but I've got to see Benson to-morrow +about those steers. That means that I've got to go as far as Bolo +to-night, and that I sha'n't be back in time to start with the rest of +you to meet the folks. But I'll see you in Bolo day after to-morrow at +noon. The train is due then. Now be on hand, all of you that can. We +want Miss Genevieve and her friends to have a right royal welcome. I +reckon now I'd better be off. So long! Now remember--day after to-morrow +at noon!" he finished, turning away. + +"As if we'd be a-forgettin' it," grinned Long John, a tall, lank fellow +sprawled in a hammock, "when the little mistress hain't set her pretty +foot on the place since last August!" + +"If only she wa'n't bringin' all them others," groaned the short, +sandy-haired man on the steps. "I'd just like to rope the whole bunch +and send 'em back East again, old lady and all--all but the little +mistress, of course. Boys, what are we a-goin' to do with an old +lady--even though she ain't so awful old--and five tom-fool girls on the +Six Star Ranch?" + +"Ees not the Senorita a gurrl, also?" laughed a dark-eyed Mexican from +his perch on the gallery railing. "Eh, Reddy?" + +"Sure, Pedro," retorted the sandy-haired man, testily. (Pedro was the +only Mexican cowboy at the ranch, and even he was barely tolerated.) +"But the little mistress ain't no tenderfoot girl. She don't howl at a +rattlesnake nor jump at a prairie dog; and she knows how to ride, and +which end of a gun goes off!" + +There was a general laugh, followed by a long silence--the boys did not +usually talk so much together, but to-night a curious restlessness +pervaded them all. Suddenly the tall man in the hammock pulled himself +erect. + +"Look a-here, boys, that's jest it," he began in a worried voice. "What +if the little mistress has changed? What if she hain't no use for us and +the ranch any more? I never told ye, but at the first, last August, +'fore she went away, I heard the boss and Mr. Hartley a-talkin'. They +was sayin' she'd got to go East to learn how to live like a lady +should--to know girls, and books, and all that. They said she was +runnin' wild here with only us for playmates, and that they had just got +ter pasture her out where the grass was finer, and the fences nearer +tergether." + +"Did they say--that?" gasped half a dozen worried voices. + +"They sure did--and more. They said two real ladies was a-goin' ter take +her and make her like themselves--a lady. And, boys, I was +wonderin'--how is a lady goin' ter like us, and the ranch?" + +There was a moment's tense silence. The boys were staring, wide-eyed and +appalled, into each other's faces. + +From somewhere came a deep sigh. + +"Gorry!--she can't, she just can't, after all her book-learnin' and +culturin'," groaned a new voice. + +For a time no one spoke; then Reddy cleared his throat. + +"Look a-here, there ain't but jest one thing to do. If she don't like +the ranch--and us--we'll jest have to make the ranch--and us--so she +will like 'em." + +"How?" demanded a skeptical chorus. + +"Slick 'em up--and us," retorted the sandy-haired man, with finality. "I +was raised East, and I know the sort of doin's they hanker after. +To-morrow mornin' we'll begin. I'll show you; you'll see," he finished +in a louder tone, as Teresa's clanging supper bell sent them in a +stampede through the long covered way that led to the dining-room which, +with the cook room, occupied the large, low building thirty feet to the +rear of the ranch house. + + * * * * * + +When Tim Nolan arrived at the Bolo station a little before noon two days +later, he stared in open-mouthed wonder at the sight that greeted his +eyes. In a wavering, straggling line stood ten stiff, red-faced, +miserable men, dressed in what was, to Tim Nolan, the strangest +assortment of garments he had ever seen. + +Two of the men were in dead black, from head to foot. Four wore stiff, +not over-clean white shirts. Six sported flaming red neckties. One had +unearthed from somewhere a frock coat three sizes too small for him, +which he wore very proudly, however, over a flannel shirt adorned with a +red-and-green silk handkerchief knotted at the throat. Another displayed +a somewhat battered silk hat. But, whatever they wore, each showed a +face upon which hope, despair, pride, shame, and physical misery were +curiously blended. + +For an instant Tim Nolan peered at them with unrecognizing eyes; then +he gave a low ejaculation. + +"Reddy! Carlos! Jim! Boys!" he gasped. "What in the world is the meaning +of this?" + +"Eet ees that we welcome the little Senorita an' her frien's," bowed +Pedro, doffing his sombrero which was the only part of his usual costume +that he had retained. + +"But--I don't understand," demurred the foreman; "these rigs of yours! +Reddy, where in time did you corral that coat?" + +Reddy shifted from one uneasy foot to the other. + +"Pedro's told you--we're here to welcome the little mistress, of course. +We've slicked up. We--we didn't want the shock too sudden--from the +East, you know." + +For another moment Tim Nolan stared; then he threw back his head and +laughed--laughed till the faces of the men before him grew red with +something more than discomfort. + +At that moment a pretty young girl in khaki and a cowboy hat made her +appearance astride a frisky little mustang. She wore a cartridge belt +about her waist--though there was no revolver in her holster. + +"Is Genevieve coming to-day, sure?" she called out joyfully. "I heard +she was, and I've come to meet her." + +"There, boys," bantered the ranch foreman, "now here's a young lady who +knows how to welcome the mistress of the Six Star Ranch!" Then, to the +girl: "Sure, Miss Susie, we do expect Genevieve, and we're here to +welcome her, as you see," he finished with a sweep of his broad-brimmed +hat. + +It looked, for a moment, as if the wavering, straggling men would break +ranks and run; but a sudden distant whistle, and a sharp command from +Reddy brought them right about face. + +"Buck up, boys," he ordered sharply. "I reckon the little mistress ain't +a-goin' ter turn us down! She'll like it. You'll see!" + +The train had scarcely come to a stop before Genevieve was off the car +steps. + +"Mr. Tim, Mr. Tim--here I am! Oh, how good you look!" she cried, holding +out both her hands. A minute later she turned to introduce the +embarrassed foreman to Mrs. Kennedy and the girls, who, with her father, +were following close at her heels. This task was not half completed, +however, when she spied the red-faced, anxious-eyed men. + +As Mr. Tim had done, she stared dumbly for a moment; then, leaving the +rest of the introductions to her father, she ran toward them. + +"Why, it's the boys--our boys! Carlos, Long John, Reddy! But what _is_ +the matter? How queer you look! Is anybody sick--or--dead?" she +stammered, plainly in doubt what to say. + +"Sure, it's for you--we're a-welcomin' you," exploded Long John, +jerking at his collar which was obviously too small for him. + +Genevieve's face showed a puzzled frown. + +"But these clothes!--why are you like this?--and after all I've promised +the girls about you, too!" + +"You mean--you don't like it--this?" demanded Reddy, incredulous hope in +his eyes and voice. + +"Of course I don't like it! I've been promising the girls all the way +here that you'd give them a welcome that _was_ a welcome! And now--but +why did you do it, boys?" + +Long John drew himself to his full height. + +"Why? 'Cause Reddy said to," he answered. "Reddy said we'd better ease +up on the shock it would be to you--here, after all you'd been used to +back East--fine clothes, fine feed, and fine doin's all around, to say +nothin' of books and learnin' in between times; so we--we tried to break +ye in easy. That's all," he finished, a little lamely. + +"And then these clothes mean--that?" demanded the girl. + +Long John nodded dumbly. + +Genevieve gave a ringing laugh, but her eyes grew soft as she extended +her hand to each man in turn. + +"What old dears you are--every one of you!" she exclaimed. "Now go home +quick, and get comfortable." She would have said more, but some one +called her and she turned abruptly. Cordelia Wilson, looking half +frightened, half exultant, but wholly excited, was pulling at her +sleeve. + +"Genevieve, Genevieve, quick," she was panting; "is that a cowboy--that, +over there--talking to your father?" + +Genevieve turned with a wondering frown. The next moment she burst into +a merry laugh. + +"Oh, Cordelia, Cordelia, you will be the death of me, yet! No, that +isn't a cowboy. It's Susie Billings. She lives on a ranch near here." + +"A girl--dressed like that--and carrying a revolver! Just a common +'Susie!'" gasped Cordelia. + +"Yes--just a common 'Susie,'" twinkled Genevieve. + +"But I thought she was a--a cowboy," quavered Cordelia. "You _said_ +they'd be here in--in all their war paint!" + +From behind them sounded a muffled snort and a low-voiced: + +"Boys, she thinks that's a cowboy! Come on--say we show 'em! Eh?" + +Genevieve laughed softly at what Cordelia had said, and at the +disappointment in her voice. + +"Cowboys? Well, they _are_ here," she acknowledged with twitching lips, +"and in their war paint, too--of a kind! They're right here--Why, +they're _gone_," she broke off. "Never mind," she laughed, as she +caught sight of a silk hat and a black coat hurrying toward a group of +saddled ponies. "I reckon you'll see all the cowboys you want to before +you go back East again. Now come up and meet Susie--and she hasn't, +really, any revolver there, Cordelia, in spite of that cartridge belt +and holster. She's always rigging up that way. She likes it!" + +Susie proved to be "a girl just like us," as Cordelia amazedly expressed +it to Alma Lane. She was certainly a very pleasant one, they all +decided. But even Susie could not keep their eyes from wandering to the +unfamiliar scene around them. + +It was a bare little station set in the midst of a bare little prairie +town, and quite unlike anything the Easterners had ever seen before. +Broad, dusty streets led seemingly nowhere. Low, straggling houses +stretched out lazy lengths of untidiness, except where a group of +taller, more pretentious buildings indicated the stores, a hotel or two, +several boarding houses, and numerous saloons and dance halls. + +From the station doorway, a blanketed Indian looked out with stolid, +unsmiling face. Leaning against a post a dreamy-eyed Mexican in tight +trousers, red sash, and tall peaked hat, smoked a cigarette. Halfway +down the platform a tired-looking man in heavy cowhide boots and rough +clothes, watched beside a huge canvas-topped wagon beyond which could +be seen the switching tails of six great oxen. + +"There's Fred's 'boat,'" remarked Bertha, laughingly, to Cordelia. + +"Where? What?" Cordelia had been trying to look in all directions at +once. + +"That prairie schooner down there." + +"Now that looks like the pictures," asserted Cordelia. "I wonder if the +cowboys will." + +"I declare, the whole thing is worse than a three-ring circus," declared +Tilly, aggrievedly, to Genevieve. "I simply can't see everything!" + +"All aboard for the ranch," called Mr. Hartley, leading the way around +to the other side of the station; and like a flock of prairie chickens, +as Genevieve put it, they all trooped after him. + +"Why, what funny horses!" cried Tilly, as Mr. Hartley stopped before a +large, old-fashioned three-seated carriage drawn up to the platform. + +At Genevieve's chuckling laugh, Tilly threw a sharper glance toward the +two gray creatures attached to the carriage. + +"Why, they aren't horses at all--yes, they are--no, they aren't, +either!" + +"I always heard young ladies were a bit changeable," grinned Tim Nolan, +mischievously; "but do they always change their minds as often as that, +Miss?" + +"Yes, they do--when the occasion demands it," retorted Tilly, with a +merry glance; and Tim Nolan laughed appreciatively. + +"Well, they aren't horses," smiled Mr. Hartley, as he gave his hand to +help Mrs. Kennedy into the carriage. "They happen to be mules. Now, Miss +Tilly, if you'll come in here with Mrs. Kennedy, we'll put two other +young ladies and myself in the other two seats, and leave Genevieve to +do the honors in one of the ranch wagons with the rest of you. The +baggage, the boys are already putting in the other wagon, I see," he +added, looking back to where two men were busy with a pile of trunks and +bags. "They'll come along after us. Mr. Tim is on his horse, of course. +We'll let him show us the way. Now stow yourselves comfortably," he +admonished his guests. "You know we have an eighteen-mile ride ahead of +us!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +CORDELIA SEES A COWBOY + + +Through the broad, dusty streets, by the straggling houses, and out on +to the boundless sea of grass trailed the carriage and the ranch wagons, +with Mr. Tim in the lead. + +Five pairs of eyes grew wide with wonder and awe. + +"I didn't suppose anything in the world could be so--so far," breathed +Cordelia, who was with Mr. Hartley on the front seat of the carriage. + +"No wonder Genevieve was always talking about 'space, wide, wide +space,'" cried Bertha. "Why, it's just like the ocean--only more so, +because there aren't any waves." + +"As if anything could be more like the ocean than the ocean itself," +giggled Tilly. + +Mr. Hartley laughed good-naturedly. + +"Never mind, Miss Bertha," he nodded. "Just you wait till there's a +little more wind, and you'll see some waves, I reckon. It's mighty still +just now; and yet--there, look! Over there to the right--see?" + +They all looked, and they all saw. They saw far in the distance the +green change to gray, and the gray to faint purple, and back again to +green, while curious shifting lights and shadows glancing across the +waving blades of grass, made them ripple like water in the sunlight. At +the same time, from somewhere, came a soft, cool wind. + +"Why, it is--it is just like the ocean," exulted Cordelia. "I've seen it +look like that down to Nantasket, 'way, 'way off at sea." + +"I told you 'twas," triumphed Bertha. + +"Well, anyway," observed Tilly, demurely, "they must be awfully dry +waves--not much fun to jump!" + +"Tilly, how can you?" protested Cordelia. "How you do take the poetry +out of anything! I believe you'd take the poetry out of--of Shakespeare +himself!" + +"Pooh! Never saw much in him to take out," shrugged Tilly. + +"Tilly!" gasped Cordelia. + +"Tilly can't see poetry in anything that doesn't jingle like 'If you +love me as I love you, no knife can cut our love in two,'" chanted +Bertha. + +"My dears!" remonstrated Mrs. Kennedy, feebly. + +Tilly turned with swift pacification. + +"Don't you worry, Mrs. Kennedy. I'm used to it. They can't trouble me +any!" + +It was Mr. Hartley who broke the silence that followed. + +"Well, Miss Cordelia," he asked laughingly, "what is the matter? You've +been peering in all directions, and you look as if you hadn't found what +you were hunting for. You weren't expecting to find soda fountains and +candy stores on the prairie, were you?" + +Cordelia smiled and shook her head. + +"Of course not, Mr. Hartley! I was looking for the blue bonnets--the +flowers, you know. Genevieve said they grew wild all through the prairie +grass." + +"And so they do--specially, early in the spring, my dear. I wish you +could see them, then." + +"I wish I could--Genevieve has told me so much about them. She says +they're the state flower. I thought they had such a funny name; I wanted +to pick one, if I could. She says they're lovely, too." + +"They are, indeed, and I wish you could see them when they are at their +best," rejoined Mr. Hartley; then he turned to Bertha, who had been +listening with evident interest. "In the spring it's a blue ocean, Miss +Bertha--I wish you could see the wind sweep across it then! And I wish +you could smell it, too," he added with a laugh. "I reckon you wouldn't +think it much like your salty, fishy east wind," he finished, +twinkling. + +"Oh, but we just love that salty, fishy east wind, every time we go near +the shore," retorted a chorus of loyal Eastern voices; and Mr. Hartley +laughed again. + +In the ranch wagon behind them, Genevieve was doing the honors of the +prairie right royally. Here, there, and everywhere she was pointing out +something of interest. In the ranch wagon, too, the marvelous hush and +charm of limitless distance had wrought its own spell; and all had +fallen silent. + +It was Alma Lane who broke the pause. + +"What are all those deep, narrow paths, such a lot of them, running +parallel to the wheel tracks?" she asked curiously. "I've been watching +them ever since we left Bolo. They are on both sides, too." + +"They're made by the cattle," answered Genevieve; "such a lot of them, +you know, traveling single file on their way to Bolo. Bolo is a 'cow +town'--that is, they ship cattle to market from there." + +"Poor things," sighed Elsie, sympathetically. "I saw some yesterday from +the train. I thought then I never wanted to eat another piece of +beefsteak--and I adore beefsteak, too." + +Genevieve sobered a little. + +"I know it; I know just how you feel. I hate that part--but it's +business, I suppose. I reckon I hate business, anyhow--but I love the +ranch! I can't get used to the branding, either." + +"What's that?" asked Elsie. + +Genevieve shook her head. A look of pain crossed her face. + +"Don't ask me, Elsie, please. You'll find out soon enough. Branding is +business, too, I suppose--but it's horrid. Mammy Lindy says that the +first time I saw our brand on a calf and realized what it meant and how +it got there, I cried for hours--for days, in fact, much of the time." + +"Why, Genevieve," cried Elsie, wonderingly. "How dreadful! What is a +brand? I thought 'brand' meant the kind of coffee or tea one drank." + +Alma frowned and threw a quick look into Genevieve's face. + +"What a funny little town Bolo is!" she exclaimed, with a swift change +of subject. "I declare, it looked 'most as sleepy as Sunbridge." + +"Sleepy!" laughed Genevieve, her face clearing, much to Alma's +satisfaction. "You should see Bolo when it's really awake--say when some +association of cattlemen meet there. And there's going to be one next +month, I think. There's no end of fun and frolic and horse-racing then, +with everybody there, from the cowboys and cattle-kings to the trappers +and Indians. You wouldn't think there was anything sleepy about Bolo +then, I reckon," nodded Genevieve, gayly. + +"Genevieve, quick--look!--off there," cried Elsie, excitedly. + +"Some more of Fred's 'boats'--three of them this time," laughed Alma, +her eyes on the three white-topped wagons glistening in the sunlight. + +"Boats?" questioned Genevieve. + +"That's what little Fred Wilson told us we were going to ride in," +explained Alma. "He said they had prairie schooners here, and schooners +were boats, of course." + +Genevieve laughed merrily. + +"I wish Fred could see these 'boats,'" she said. + +"Well, I don't know; I feel as if they were boats," declared Alma, +stoutly. "I'm sure I don't think anybody on the ocean could be any more +glad to see a sail than I should be to see one of these, if I were a +lonely traveler on this sea of grass!" + +"But where are they going?" questioned Elsie. + +"I don't know--nor do they, probably," rejoined Genevieve, with a +quizzical smile. "They're presumably emigrants hunting up cheap land for +a new home. There used to be lots of them, Father says; but there aren't +so many now. See--they're going to cross our way just ahead of us. We'll +get a splendid view of them." + +Nearer and nearer came the curiously clumsy, yet curiously airy-looking +wagons. Sallow-faced women looked out mournfully, and tow-headed +children peeped from every vantage point. Brawny, but weary-looking men +stalked beside their teams. + +"Look at the men--_walking_!" cried Elsie. + +"They're 'bull-whackers,'" nodded Genevieve, mischievously. + +"Bull-whackers!" + +"Yes, because their teams happen to be oxen; if they were mules, now, +they'd be 'mule-skinners.'" + +"Is that what you are, then?" asked Elsie, with a demureness that +rivaled Tilly's best efforts. "You're driving mules, you know." + +"Well, you better not call me that," laughed Genevieve. "See, they've +stopped to speak to Father. I reckon we'll have to stop, too." + +"I 'reckon' we shall," mimicked Elsie, good-naturedly. + +"They've got all their household goods and gods in those wagons," said +Genevieve, musingly. "I can see a tin coffeepot hanging straight over +one woman's head." + +"I shouldn't think they had anything but children," laughed Alma, as +from every wagon there tumbled a scrambling, squirming mass of barefoot +legs, thin brown arms, and touseled hair above wide, questioning eyes. + +Long minutes later, from the carriage, Cordelia Wilson followed with +dreamy eyes the slow-receding wagons, now again upon their way. + +"I feel just like 'ships that pass in the night,'" she murmured. + +"I don't. I feel just like supper," whispered Tilly. Then she laughed +at the frightened look Cordelia flung at Mr. Hartley. + +On and on through the shimmering heat, under the cloudless sky, trailed +the carriage and the ranch wagons. Mr. Tim had long ago galloped out of +sight. + +It was when they were within five miles of the ranch that Cordelia, +looking far ahead, saw against the horizon a rapidly growing black +speck. For some time she watched it in silence; then, suddenly, she +became aware that, large as was the speck now, it had broken into other +specks--bobbing, shifting specks that promptly became not specks at all, +but men on horseback. + +Spasmodically she clutched Mr. Hartley's arm. + +"What--are--those?" she questioned, with dry lips. + +Mr. Hartley gave an indifferent glance ahead. + +"Cowboys, I should say," he answered. + +Cordelia caught her breath. At that moment a shot rang out, then +another, and another. + +Mr. Hartley looked up now, sharply, a little angrily. The indifference +was quite gone from his face. + +It was then that Genevieve's voice came clear and strong from the wagon +behind. + +"It's the boys, Father--our boys!" she called. "I know it's the boys. I +told them I'd promised the girls a welcome, and they're giving it to +us!" + +"By George! it is our boys," breathed Mr. Hartley. And the scowl on his +face gave way to a broad smile. + +"Is it really all--fun?" quavered Cordelia, breathlessly. + +"Every bit," Mr. Hartley assured her. And then--though still +breathlessly--Cordelia gave herself up to the excitement of the moment. + +They were all about them soon--those lithe, supple figures, swaying +lightly, or sitting superbly erect in their saddles. From the top of +their broad-brimmed hats to the tips of their high-heeled cowboy boots +they were a wonder and a joy to the amazed eyes of Cordelia. With +stirrups so long the chains clanked musically, they galloped back and +forth, shouting, laughing, and shooting wildly into the air. With their +chaparejos, or leather overalls, their big revolvers, their spurs, their +bright silk handkerchiefs knotted loosely around their necks over the +open collar of their flannel shirts, they made a brave show, indeed. Nor +was the least of the wonders about them the graceful swirls of +loosely-coiled lariats hanging from the horns of their saddles. + +After all, it lasted only a minute before the revolvers were thrust into +the waiting holsters, and before the men, bareheaded, were making a +sweeping bow from their saddles. + +It was Genevieve who led the clapping. + +"Oh, boys, thank you! That was fine--just fine!" she crowed. "Now I +reckon Cordelia thinks she has seen a cowboy all right!" + +And Cordelia did. A little white, but bravely smiling, she was sitting +erect, apparently serene. And only Mr. Hartley knew that one of her +hands was clutched about his arm in a grasp that actually hurt. + +"They did that--all that shooting and yelling--just for a joke, then?" +she asked Mr. Hartley, a little later. + +"Only that. They were giving you a welcome to the Six Star Ranch." + +"Then they don't act like that all the time?" + +"Hardly!" laughed the man. "I reckon they wouldn't get much work done if +they did." + +Cordelia drew a relieved sigh. Her eyes, a little less fearful, rested +on the erect figure of the nearest cowboy, just to the right of the +carriage. + +"I'm so glad," she murmured. "I'll tell Mrs. Miller. She thought they +did, you know--yell always without just and due provocation, and shoot +at sight." + +The man's lips twitched; but the next moment they grew a bit stern at +the corners. + +"That's exactly it, Miss Cordelia--exactly the idea that some people +have of the boys, and I'll grant that when they--they drink too much +whiskey, they aren't exactly what you might call peaceable, desirable +companions--though three-fourths of their antics then are caused by +reckless high spirits rather than by real ugliness--with exceptions, of +course. But when sober they are quiet, straightforward, generous-hearted +good fellows, hard-working and honest; certainly my boys are." + +Mr. Hartley hesitated, then went on, still gravely. + +"There's just as much difference in ranches, of course, Miss Cordelia, +as there is in folks; and all the ranches are changing fast, anyway, +nowadays. Lots of the owners are quitting living on them at all. They've +gone into the towns to live. On the Six Star the boys take their meals +with the family; and in many places they don't do that, I know, even +where the owner lives on the ranch. Our boys are very loyal to us, and +very much interested in all that concerns us. They fairly worship +Genevieve, and have, all the way up." + +"I'm so glad," murmured Cordelia, again; and this time there was a look +very much like admiration in the eyes that rested on Long John just +ahead. + +It was some time later that Mr. Hartley said, half turning around: + +"Look straight ahead, a little to the right, young ladies, and you'll +get a very good view of the Six Star Ranch." + +"Oh, and you've got a windmill," cried Tilly. "I can see it against the +sky; I know I can!" + +"Yes, we've got a windmill," nodded Mr. Hartley. + +"I love windmills," exulted Cordelia. + +"So does Genevieve," observed Mr. Hartley, raising his eyebrows a +little. + +Only Cordelia noticed the odd smile he gave as he spoke, and she did not +know what it meant. Later, however, she remembered it. She was too much +excited now to think of anything but the fact that the Six Star Ranch +was so near. + +Bertha craned her neck to look ahead. + +"Only think, we haven't passed a house, not a house since we left Bolo," +she cried. + +Mr. Hartley smiled. + +"You see, Miss Bertha, Bolo, eighteen miles away, is our nearest +neighbor; and you'll have to go even farther than that in any other +direction to strike another neighbor." + +"My stars!" gasped Bertha. "How awful lonesome it must be, Mr. Hartley." + +"Anyhow, you can't be much bothered with neighbors running in to borrow +two eggs and a little soda, can you?" giggled Tilly. + +"No; that isn't one of the difficulties we have to deal with," smiled +Mr. Hartley; but Bertha bridled visibly. + +"Well, really, Tilly Mack," she exclaimed in pretended anger, "I should +like to know if you mean anything special! You see," she added +laughingly to Mr. Hartley, "I happen to live next to Tilly, myself!" + +From both carriage and wagon, now, came a babel of eager chatter. There +was so much to be seen on the one hand, so much to be explained on the +other. The buildings and corrals were plainly visible by this time, and +each minute they became more clearly defined. + +"Do you mean that all that belongs to just one ranch?" demanded Tilly. + +"Sure!" twinkled Mr. Hartley. "You see, if folks can't borrow of us, we +can't borrow of them, either; so it's rather necessary that we have all +the comforts of home ourselves." + +"Well, I guess you've got them," laughed Tilly, looking wonderingly +about her. + +"I reckon we have," nodded Mr. Hartley, as he began to point out one and +another of the buildings. + +There was the long, low ranch house facing the wide reach of the +prairie. Behind it, and connected with it by a covered way, were the +dining room and the cook room. Beyond that was the long bunk house where +the men slept, flanked by another building for the Mexican servants. +There were stables, sheds, a storehouse and saddle-room, and a +blacksmith's shop. Below the house an oblong bit of fenced ground showed +a riot of color--Genevieve's flower garden. Below that was a vegetable +garden. There was a large corral for the cattle, and a smaller one, +high and circular, for the horses. There were three or four green trees +near the house--tall, thin cottonwoods that had grown up along the +slender streams of waste water from the windmill. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE RANCH HOUSE + + +"And here we are at the Six Star Ranch," cried Mr. Hartley, as he leaped +from the carriage before the wide-open door of the ranch house. "Well, +Mammy Lindy," he added, as the kindly, wrinkled old face of a colored +woman appeared in the doorway, "I've corralled the whole bunch and +brought them West with me!" + +A little stiffly the girls got down from their seats--all but Genevieve. +She, in the space of a breath, seemingly, had leaped to the ground and +run up on to the wide gallery where the negress, with adoring eyes, +awaited her. + +"Laws, chil'e," Tilly, who was nearest, heard a tenderly crooning voice +say, "but I am jes' pow'ful glad to see ye, honey!" + +"Mammy, you old darling!" cried Genevieve, giving the rotund, gayly-clad +figure a bear-like hug. "You look just as good as you used to--and my, +my! just see all this new finery to welcome me," she added, holding off +her beaming-faced old nurse at arms' length. "I reckon you'll think +something has come, Mammy Lindy, when we all get settled," she added +laughingly, as she turned to present the old woman to Mrs. Kennedy and +the girls. + +A little later, Tilly, in the wide, center hallway, was looking +wonderingly about her. + +"Well, Genevieve Hartley, I didn't think you _could_ have room enough +for us all," she declared; "but I'll give it up. I should think you +might entertain the whole state of Texas in this house!" + +"We try to, sometimes," laughed Genevieve. "You know we Texans pride +ourselves on always having room for everybody." + +"Well, I should think you did--and, only think, all on one floor, too!" + +Genevieve did not answer. She was looking around her with a thoughtful +little frown between her eyebrows as if she saw something she did not +quite understand. + +The girls were standing in the wide center hallway that ran straight +through the house. On one side, through a wide archway, could be seen a +large living-room with piano, bookshelves, comfortable chairs, a couch, +and a good-sized table. Beyond that there was a narrow hall with two +large rooms leading from it. From the other side of the center hall +opened another narrow hall at right angles, from which led the six +remaining rooms of the house. + +"This is more fun than getting settled in the sleepers," declared Elsie +Martin, as Genevieve began to fly about arranging her guests. + +The boys made quick work of bringing in the trunks and bags; and then +for a brief half-hour there was quiet while eight pairs of hurried hands +attempted to remove part of the dust of travel and to unearth fresh +blouses and clean linen from long-packed trunks. + +It was a hungry, merry crowd, a little later, that trooped through the +long covered way leading to the dining-room. + +"Now I know why this house has got so much room in it," declared Tilly. +"We could have room in the East if we banished our dining-rooms and +kitchens and pantries to the neighbors like this!" + +Genevieve did not answer. They had reached the long narrow room with the +big table running lengthwise of it. Only one end of the table was set +with places for eight. + +"Why, where are the boys?" questioned Genevieve. + +Mammy Lindy shook her head. + +"Dey ain't here, chil'e." + +"But, Mammy, you are mistaken. They are here. They came home with us." + +"Yas'm, dey done come home, sure 'nuf, but dey ain't eatin' now, honey." + +"Why not?" + +Again the old woman shook her head. She did not answer. She turned +troubled eyes first on the two young Mexican maids by the doorway, then +on Mr. Hartley. + +"Father, do you know what this means?" demanded Genevieve. + +"No, dearie, I must say I don't," frowned Mr. Hartley. + +"Then I shall find out," avowed the mistress of the Six Star Ranch. +"Mammy Lindy, please seat my guests, and have the supper served right +away. I'll find Mr. Tim." + +"But, my dear," remonstrated Mrs. Kennedy, gently, "wouldn't it be +better if you ate your own supper first--with your guests?" + +Genevieve shook her head. Her face flushed painfully. + +"I know, Aunt Julia, of course, what you mean. You don't think it's +civil in me to run off like this. But it's the boys--something is the +matter. They always eat with us. Why, they may be thinking we don't +_want_ them, Aunt Julia. Please, please excuse me, everybody," she +entreated, as she ran from the room. + +Halfway to the bunk house Genevieve met the ranch foreman. + +"Why, Mr. Tim, supper is ready. Didn't you know?" she called, hurrying +toward him. "Where are the boys?" + +An odd expression crossed the man's kindly, weather-beaten face. + +"Oh, they're 'round--in spots." + +"Why don't they come to supper?" + +Mr. Tim's eyebrows went up. + +"Well, as near as I can make out, that's part of the welcome they're +giving you." + +"Welcome!--to stay away from supper!" + +Mr. Tim laughed. + +"I reckon maybe I'll have to explain," he replied. "Long John told me +they'd got it all fixed up that, after your fine doings back East, you +wouldn't take to things on the ranch very well. So for two days the +whole bunch has been slicking things up, including themselves. They +hunted up every stiff hat and b'iled shirt in this part of Texas, I +reckon, for that splurge at Bolo; and Mammy Lindy says they've been +pestering the life out of her, slicking up the house." + +Genevieve drew in her breath with a little cry. + +"There! That's what was the matter with the rooms," she ejaculated. +"Nothing looked natural--but some things weren't exactly 'slicked up,' +Mr. Tim. I couldn't turn around without finding a book at my elbow. +There's scarcely one left on the shelves!" + +"Maybe I can explain that," returned the man, with a twinkle in his +eyes. "Reddy said the East was mighty strong on books and culturing, so +I s'pose he thought he'd have 'em 'round handy. It's lucky your father +had all them books come out while you was studying, or else I reckon the +boys would have hit the trail for the nearest book-store and roped every +book in sight." + +Genevieve laughed appreciatively. + +"But, the supper?" she frowned again. + +"Oh, that's part of the outfit--and Reddy said it was 'dinner,' too. He +said that he was raised back East, and that he knew; and that 'twas more +seemly that you ate it without their company." + +"Humph! Well, it isn't, and I sha'n't," settled Genevieve, emphatically. +"Where is Reddy? Go in to supper," she laughed, "and I'll round up the +boys--I mean, I'll find them," she corrected demurely. "Miss Jane +doesn't like me to say 'round up,' Mr. Tim." + +Mr. Tim smiled, but his eyes grew tender--almost anxious. + +"I reckon they haven't spoiled you back East, after all, little girl. +You're the same true blue, like you was, before." + +Genevieve laughed and colored a little. + +"Of course I am," she declared. "Now I'm going for the boys." + +Mr. Tim laid a detaining hand on her arm. + +"Not to-night; it's late, and it would make no end of fuss all around. +But I'll tell them. They'll be on hand for breakfast, all right. Now go +back to your own supper, yourself." + +"All right," agreed Genevieve, reluctantly. "But--to-morrow, remember!" + +"I ain't forgetting--to-morrow," nodded the man. + +In the dining-room Genevieve was greeted with a merry clamor, under +cover of which she said hurriedly to her father: + +"It's all right. They'll come to-morrow." + +"I guess you won't find we've left you much to eat," gurgled Elsie +Martin, her mouth full of fried chicken. + +"Oh, yes, I shall--in Texas," retorted Genevieve. + +"But I'm so ashamed," apologized Cordelia. "I don't think we ought to +eat so much." + +"I do," disagreed Tilly, "when everything is so perfectly lovely as this +is. They are just the nicest things! And just guess how many hot +biscuits I've eaten with this delicious plum sauce! Mr. Hartley says +they're wild--the plums, I mean, not the biscuits." + +"And it's all such a surprise, too," interposed Alma Lane; "milk, and +butter, and all." + +Genevieve stared frankly. + +"Surprise!--_milk and butter!_" she exclaimed. "Didn't you suppose we +had milk and butter?" + +Alma blushed. + +"Why, Genevieve, I--I didn't mean anything, you know, truly I didn't," +she stammered. "It's only that--that ranches don't usually have them, +you know." + +"Don't usually have them!" frowned Genevieve. "Alma Lane, what _are_ you +talking about?" + +"Why, we read it, you know, in a book," explained Cordelia, hastily, +coming to the rescue. "They said in spite of there being so many cows +all around everywhere, there wasn't any butter or milk, and that the +cowboys wouldn't like to be asked to milk, you know." + +"You read it? Where?" Genevieve's forehead still wore its frown. + +Mr. Hartley gave a chuckling laugh. + +"I reckon Genevieve doesn't know much about such ranches," he observed. +"As I was telling you, Miss Cordelia, coming out this afternoon, there's +just as much difference in ranches as there is in folks; and ours +happens to be the kind where we like all the comforts of home pretty +well. To be sure, I wouldn't just like to ask Reddy or Long John to +milk, maybe," he added, with a whimsical smile; "but I don't have to, +you see. I've got Carlos for just such work. He looks after the +vegetable garden, too, and Genevieve's flowers. By the way, dearie,"--he +turned to his daughter--"Tim says Carlos has been putting in his +prettiest work on your garden this summer. Be sure you don't forget to +notice it." + +"As if I could help noticing it," returned Genevieve. She was about to +say more when there came an earnest question from Cordelia. + +"Mr. Hartley, please, what did you call those two men?" + +"What men?" + +"The ones you--you wouldn't wish to ask to milk." + +"Oh, the boys? I don't remember--I reckon 'twas Reddy and Long John that +I mentioned, maybe." + +"Yes, sir; that's the one I mean--the John one. What is his other name, +please?" + +"His surname? Why, really, Miss Cordelia, I reckon I've forgotten what +it is. The boys all go by their first names, mostly, else by a nickname. +Why? Found a long-lost friend?" + +"Oh, no, sir. Well, I mean--that is--he may be lost, but he isn't mine," +stammered Cordelia, who was always very literal. + +"Then don't blush so, Cordy," bantered Tilly, wickedly, "else we shall +think he is yours." + +Cordelia blushed a still deeper pink, but she said nothing; and in the +confusion of leaving the dining-room she managed to place herself as far +from Tilly as possible. On the back gallery she saw the ranch foreman. +As the others went chattering through the hall to the gallery beyond, +she lingered timidly. + +"Mr. Nolan, would--would you please tell me Mr.--Mr. John's other name?" + +"John? Oh, you mean 'Long John,' Miss?" + +"Yes; but--'John' what?" + +Tim Nolan frowned. + +"Why, let me see,"--he bit his lip in thought--"'Pierce'--no, 'Proctor.' +Yes, that's it--'John Proctor.'" + +A look of mingled disappointment and relief crossed Cordelia's face. + +"Thank you, Mr. Nolan, very much," she faltered, as she hurried after +her companions. + +"I don't know whether I'm glad or sorry," she was thinking. "Of course +'twould have been nice if he'd been John Sanborn, only I'm afraid Hermit +Joe wouldn't like a cowboy for a son, specially as there wouldn't be +anything for him to do in Sunbridge at his trade." + +Mrs. Kennedy announced soon after supper that she should take matters in +hand very sternly that night and insist upon an early bedtime hour. + +"It has been a long, hot, fatiguing day," she said, "but you are all so +excited you'd sit up half the night asking questions and telling +stories; so I shall take advantage of my position as chaperon, and send +you to bed very soon." + +"O dear!" sighed Tilly. "If only it would come morning quick! Just +think, we've got to wait a whole night before we can do any of the +things we're dying to do!" + +"Never mind; there are lots of days coming," laughed Mr. Hartley. "What +a fine family of young folks I have, to be sure," he gloried, looking +around him contentedly. + +They were all about him on the front gallery, in hammocks and chairs, or +sitting on the steps; and a very attractive group they made, indeed. + +"I think it would help the waiting if Genevieve would go in and sing to +us," suggested Bertha, after a moment's silence. "It will be so heavenly +to sit out here and listen to it!" + +"Oh, sing that lovely Mexican 'Swallow Song,'" coaxed Elsie. "'_La +Gol--_' _--Gol_-something, anyhow." + +"Don't swear, Elsie," reproved Tilly, with becoming dignity. + +"_'La Golondrina'?_" laughed Genevieve. + +"Yes, it's a dear," sighed Elsie. + +"I'd rather have that Creole Love Song that you say Mammy Lindy taught +you," breathed Cordelia. "That would be perfect for such a scene as +this." + +"Pooh! I'd rather have one of those tinkly little tunes where you can +hear the banjos and the tambourines," averred Tilly. + +"Indeed! At this rate I don't see how I'm going to sing at all," laughed +Genevieve, "with so many conflicting wishes. Anything different anybody +wants?" + +"Yes," declared Mr. Hartley, promptly. "I want them all." + +"Of course!" cried half a dozen voices. + +"All right!" rejoined Genevieve, laughingly, springing to her feet. + +And so while everybody watched the stars in the far-reaching sky, +Genevieve, in the living room, played and sang till the back gallery and +the long covered way at the rear of the house were full of the moving +shadows of soft-stepping Mexican servants and cowboys. And everywhere +there was the hush of perfect content while from the living room there +floated out the clear, sweet tones, the weird, dreamy melodies, and the +tinkle of the tambourines. + +One by one, an hour later, the lighted windows in the long, low ranch +house became dark. The last to change was the one behind which sat +Cordelia Wilson in the room she shared with Tilly. + +"Cordelia, why don't you put out that light and go to bed?" demanded +Tilly at last, drowsily. "Morning will never come at this rate!" + +"Yes, Tilly, I'm going to bed in just a minute," promised Cordelia, as +carefully she wrote in the space opposite Mrs. Miller's name on her list +of "things to do": + +"Cowboys are good, kind gentlemen; but they are noisy, and some +rough-looking." + +Five minutes later, Cordelia, from her little bed on one side of the +room called a soft "good night" across to Tilly. But Tilly was already +asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE MISTRESS OF THE SIX STAR RANCH + + +Breakfast was an early matter at the Six Star Ranch. It came almost with +the sunrise, in fact. Genevieve had assured her guests, on the night of +their arrival, however, that their breakfast might be hours later--that +it might, indeed, be at any hour they pleased. But on this first morning +at the ranch, there was not one guest that did not promptly respond to +the breakfast-bell except Mrs. Kennedy. The stir of life out of doors +had proved an effectual rising-bell for all; and it was anything but a +sleepy-looking crowd of young people that tripped into the dining-room +to find the boys already waiting for them--a little quiet and shy, to be +sure, but very red and shiny-looking as to face and hands, speaking +loudly of a vigorous use of soap and water. + +Before the meal was half over, Mrs. Kennedy came in, only to meet a +chorus of remonstrances that she should have disturbed herself so early. + +Genevieve, however, assumed a look of mock severity. + +"Aunt Julia," she began reprovingly in so perfect an imitation of Miss +Jane Chick's severest manner that Mrs. Kennedy's lips twitched; "didn't +you hear the rising-bell, my dear? How often must I ask you not to be +late to your meals?" + +For one brief moment there was a dazed hush about the table; then, at +sight of Cordelia's horrified face, Genevieve lost her self-control and +giggled. + +"Oh, but that was such a good chance," she chuckled. "Please, Aunt +Julia, I just couldn't help it. I had to!" + +"I don't doubt it," smiled back Mrs. Kennedy; and at the meaning +emphasis in her voice there was a general laugh. + +"Well, what shall we do first?" demanded Tilly, when breakfast was over. + +Genevieve put her finger to her lips. + +"I wonder, now. Oh, I know! Let's go out and see if they've driven in +the saddle band yet; then we'll watch the boys rope them and start to +work." + +"What's a saddle band?--sounds like a girth," frowned Tilly. + +"Humph! I reckon it isn't one, all the same," laughed Genevieve. "It's +the horses the boys ride. Each one has his own string, you know." + +"No, I don't know," retorted Tilly, aggrievedly. "And you needn't use +all those funny words--'string' and 'saddle band' and 'rope +them'--without explaining them, either, Genevieve Hartley. You've been +talking like that ever since we came. Just as if we knew what all that +meant!" + +Genevieve laughed again. + +"No, you don't, of course," she admitted, "any more than I understood +some of your terms back East. But come; let's go out and watch the boys. +One of the sheds has a lovely low, flat roof, and we can see right over +into the horse corral from there. It's easy; there's a ladder. Come on!" + +"Why, what a lot of horses!" cried Tilly, a moment later, as they +stepped out of doors. "Do they ride all those?" + +"Not this morning," laughed Genevieve. "You see, each man has his own +string of horses, and he picks out some one of the bunch, and lets the +rest go. That's Reddy, now, driving them into the corral. The other boys +will be here pretty quick now, and the fun will begin. You'll see!" + +The horse corral was high and circular, and there was a fine view of it +from the shed roof. A snubbing post was in the middle of the corral, and +a wing was built out at one side from the entrance gate, so that the +horses could be driven in more easily; yet Reddy quite had his hands +full as it was. At last they were all in, and a merry time they were +having of it, racing in a circle about the enclosure, heads up, and +tails and manes flying. + +"Regular merry-go-round, isn't it?" giggled Tilly. But Cordelia clutched +Genevieve's arm. + +"Genevieve, look--they've got ropes! Genevieve, what _are_ they going to +do?" she gasped, her eyes on the boys who were running from all +directions now, toward the corral. "Why, Genevieve, they're going _in_ +there, with all those horses!" + +"I reckon they are," rejoined the mistress of the Six Star Ranch. "Now +watch, and you'll see. There!--see there?--in the middle by that post! +Each man will pick out one of his own horses and rope him; then he'll +lead him out and saddle him, and the deed's done." + +"I guess that's easier to say than to do," observed Bertha, dryly. "I +notice there aren't any of those horses just hanging 'round waiting to +be caught!" + +"No, there aren't, to-day," laughed Genevieve; "though some of the +horses will do just that, at times--specially Long John's. They're +pretty lively now, however, and it _does_ take some skill to make a nice +job of it when they're jamming and jostling like that. But the boys are +equal to it. We've got some splendid ropers!" This time there was a note +of very evident pride in the voice of the mistress of the Six Star +Ranch. + +It was a brief but exciting time that followed, filled, as it was, with +the shouts of the boys--the jeers at some failure, the cheers at some +success--the thud of the horses' hoofs, the swirl of the skillfully +flung ropes. It was almost as exciting when the boys, their horses once +caught, led out, and saddled, rode off for their morning's work. To +Cordelia, especially, it was an experience never to be forgotten. + +"Going to turn cowboy, Miss Cordelia?" asked Mr. Hartley, with a smile, +as he met the girl coming into the house a little later. Mr. Hartley, in +his broad-brimmed hat, and his gray tweed trousers tucked into his high +boots, looked the picture of the prosperous ranchman at home. + +Cordelia showed a distinctly shocked face. + +"Oh, no, sir!" she cried. + +"Don't think you could learn to swing the rope--eh?" he teased. + +"Mercy, no!" + +A half-proud, wholly-gratified smile crossed the man's face. + +"It isn't as easy as it looks to be," he said. "Once in a while we get a +tenderfoot out here, though, who thinks he's going to learn it all in a +minute--or, rather, do it without any learning. But to be a good roper, +one has to give it long, hard practice. The best of 'em begin young. +Reddy, the crack roper in my outfit, tells me he began with his mother's +clothes-line at the age of four years, with his rocking-horse for a +victim. It seems there was a picture in one of his books of a cowboy +roping a pony, and--" + +Mr. Hartley stopped, as if listening. From the rear of the house had +sounded the creak of the windmill crank. The man turned, entered the +hall, and crossed to the window. Then he shook his head with a smile. + +"I'm afraid Genevieve is up to her old tricks," he said. "She's stopping +the windmill so she can climb to the top of the tower, I reckon." + +"Genevieve!--at the top of that tower!" exclaimed Cordelia. + +Mr. Hartley's lips twitched. + +"Yes. That used to be a daily stunt of hers, and--I let her," added the +man, a little doggedly. "It made her well and strong, anyhow, and helped +to develop her muscle. You see, we--we don't have gymnasiums on the +ranch," he concluded whimsically, as they stepped together out on to the +back gallery. + +A babel of gleeful shouts and laughter greeted their ears. A moment +later Mr. Hartley and Cordelia came in sight of the windmill. At its +base four chattering, shrieking girls were laughing and clapping their +hands. Above their heads, Genevieve, in a dark blue gymnasium suit, was +swinging herself gracefully from cross-piece to cross-piece in the +tower. + +"You see," smiled Mr. Hartley; but he was interrupted by a shocked, +frightened voice behind him. + +"Genevieve, my dear!" gasped Mrs. Kennedy, hurrying forward. + +Genevieve did not hear, apparently. To the girls she waved a free hand, +joyously. She was almost at the top. + +"It's fine--mighty fine up here," she caroled. "I can see 'way, 'way +over the prairie!" + +"Genevieve! Genevieve Hartley, come down this instant," commanded Mrs. +Kennedy. Then her voice shook, and grew piteously frightened, as she +stammered: "No, no--don't come down, dear! Genevieve, how _can_ you come +down?" Mrs. Kennedy was wringing her hands now. + +This time Genevieve heard. + +"Why, Aunt Julia, what is it? What is the matter?" The girl's voice +expressed only concerned surprise. + +"What is the matter?" echoed Mrs. Kennedy, faintly. "Genevieve, how can +you come down?" + +"Come down? Why, that's easy! But I don't want to come down." + +Mrs. Kennedy's lips grew stern. + +"Genevieve," she said, with an obvious effort to speak quietly; "if you +can come down, I desire you to do so at once." + +Genevieve came down. Her eyes flashed a little, and her cheeks were +redder than usual. She did not once glance toward the girls, clustered +in a silent, frightened little group. She did not appear to notice even +her father, standing by. She went straight to Mrs. Kennedy. + +"I've come down, Aunt Julia." + +Mrs. Kennedy had been seriously disturbed, and genuinely frightened. To +her, Genevieve's climb to the top of the windmill tower was very +dangerous, as well as very unladylike. Yet it was the fright, even more +than the displeasure that made her voice sound so cold now in her effort +to steady it. + +"Thank you, Genevieve. Please see that there is no occasion for you to +_come down_ again," she said meaningly. Then she turned and went into +the house. + +Just how it happened, Genevieve did not know, but almost at once she +found herself alone with her father on the back gallery. The girls had +disappeared. + +Genevieve was very angry now. + +"Father, it wasn't fair, to speak like that," she choked, "before the +girls and you, when I hadn't done a thing--not a thing! Why, it--it was +just like Miss Jane! I never knew Aunt Julia to be like that." + +For a moment her father was silent. His face wore a thoughtful frown. + +"I know it, dearie," he said at last. "But I don't think Mrs. Kennedy +quite realized, quite understood--how _you'd_ feel. She didn't think it +just right for you to be there." + +"But I was in my gym suit, Father. I skipped in and put it on purposely, +while the others were doing something else; then I climbed the tower. +I'd planned 'way ahead how I'd surprise them." + +The man hesitated. + +"I know, dearie," he nodded, after a moment; "but I reckon it was just a +little too much of a surprise for Mrs. Kennedy. You know she isn't used +to the West; and--do Boston young ladies climb windmill towers?" + +In spite of her anger, Genevieve laughed. The mention of Boston had put +her in mind of some Boston friends of Mrs. Kennedy's, whom she knew. She +had a sudden vision of what Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Butterfield's faces +would have been, had their stern, sixty-year-old eyes seen what Mrs. +Kennedy saw. + +"I reckon, too," went on Mr. Hartley, with a sigh, "that I have sort of +spoiled you, letting you have your own way. And maybe Mammy Lindy and I, +in our anxiety that you should be well and strong, and sit the saddle +like a Texas daughter should, haven't taught you always just the dainty +little lady ways--that you ought to have been taught." + +"You've taught me everything--everything good and lovely," protested the +girl, hotly. + +He shook his head. A far-away look came into his eyes. + +"I haven't, dearie--and that's why I sent you East." + +Genevieve flushed. + +"But I didn't want to go East, in the first place," she stormed. "I +wanted to stay here with you. Besides, Aunt Julia isn't really any +relation,--nor Miss Jane, either. They haven't any right to--to speak to +me like that." + +A dull red stole to John Hartley's cheek. + +"Tut, tut, dearie," he demurred, with a shake of the head. "You mustn't +forget how good they've been to you. Besides--they have got the right. I +gave it to them. I told them to make you like themselves." + +There was a long silence. Genevieve's eyes were moodily fixed on the +floor. Her father gave her a swift glance, then went on, softly: + +"I suspect, too, maybe we're both forgetting, dearie. After all, Mrs. +Kennedy did it every bit through--love. She was frightened. She was so +scared she just shook, dearie." + +"She--was?" Genevieve's voice was amazed. + +"Yes. I reckon that's more than half why she spoke so stern, and why +she's in her room crying this minute--as I'll warrant she is. I saw her +eyes, and I saw how her hands shook. And I saw it was all she could do +to keep from falling right on your neck--because she had you back safe +and sound. Maybe you didn't see that, dearie." + +There was no answer. + +"You see, their _ways_ back East, and ours, aren't alike," resumed the +man, after a time; "but I reckon their--_love_ is." + +Genevieve drew a long breath. Her brown eyes were not clear. + +"I reckon maybe I'll go and find--Aunt Julia," she said in a low voice. + +The next moment her father sat alone on the back gallery. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +REDDY AND THE BRONCHO + + +There was no lack of interesting things to do that first day at the +ranch. There was one half-hour, to be sure, when five of the Happy +Hexagons sat a little quietly on the front gallery and tried to talk as +if there were no such thing as a windmill, and no such person as a girl +who could climb to the top of it; but after Genevieve and Mrs. Kennedy, +arm in arm, came through the front door--with eyes indeed, a little +misty, but with lips cheerfully smiling--every vestige of constraint +fled. Genevieve, once more in her pretty linen frock, was again the +alert little hostess, and very soon they were all off to inspect the +flower garden, the vegetable garden, the cow corral, the sheds, the +stables, and the blacksmith's shop, not forgetting Teresa, the cook, who +was making tamales in the kitchen for them, nor Pepito, Genevieve's own +horse that she rode before she went East. + +"And we'll have the boys pick out some horses for you, too," cried +Genevieve, smoothing Pepito's sleek coat in response to his welcoming +whinny of delight. "I'm sure they can find something all right for us." + +Tilly's eyes brightened, so, too, did Bertha's; but Cordelia spoke +hastily, her eyes bent a bit distrustfully on the spirited little horse +Genevieve was petting. + +"Oh, but I don't believe they'll have time to hunt up horses for us, +Genevieve. Really, I don't think we ought to ask them to." + +"Maybe we won't, then--for _you_," teased Tilly, saucily. "We'll just +let them take time for ours." + +It is a question, however, if that afternoon, even Tilly wanted to ride; +for, according to Cordelia's notes that night in "Things to do," they +saw a broncho "bursted." + +It was Mr. Tim who had said at the dinner table that noon: + +"If you young people happen to be on hand, say at about four o'clock, +you'll see something doing. Reddy's got a horse or two he's going to put +through their paces--and one of 'em's never been saddled." + +Privately, to Mr. Hartley, Mrs. Kennedy objected a little. + +"Are you sure, Mr. Hartley, the girls ought to witness such a sight?" +she asked uneasily. "Of course I don't want to be too strict in my +demands," she went on with a little twinkle in her eyes that Mr. Hartley +thoroughly understood. "I realize the West isn't the East. But, will +this be--all right?" + +"I think it will--even in your judgment," he assured her. "It's no +professional broncho-buster that they'll see to-day. I seldom hire them, +anyway, as I prefer to have our own men break in the horses--specially +as we're lucky enough to have three or four mighty skillful ones right +in our own outfit. There'll be nothing brutal or rough to-day, Mrs. +Kennedy. Only one beast is entirely wild, and he's not really vicious, +Reddy says. Genevieve tells me the girls have heard a lot about +broncho-busting, and that they're wild to see it. They wouldn't think +they'd been to Texas, I'm afraid, if they didn't see something of the +sort." + +"Very well," agreed Mrs. Kennedy, with visible reluctance. + +"Oh, of course," went on Mr. Hartley, his eyes twinkling, "you mustn't +expect that they'll see exactly a pony parade drawing baby carriages +down Beacon Street; but they will see some of the best horsemanship that +the state of Texas can show. I take it you never saw a little beast +whose chief aim in life was to get clear of his rider--eh, Mrs. +Kennedy?" + +"No, I never did," shuddered the lady; "and I'm not sure that I'd want +to," she finished decisively, as she turned away. + +The new horse proved to be a fiery little bay mustang, and the fight +began from the first moment that the noose settled about his untamed +little neck. As Tilly told of the affair in the Chronicles of the +Hexagon Club, it was like this: + +"We saw a broncho busted this afternoon. Reddy busted it, and he was +splendid. Mercy! I shall never think anything my old Beauty does is bad +again. Beauty is a snail and a saint beside this jumping, plunging, +squealing creature that never by any chance was on his feet +properly--except when he came down hard on all four of them at once with +his back humped right up in the middle in a perfectly frightful +fashion--and I suppose that wasn't 'properly.' Anyhow, I shouldn't have +thought it was, if I had had to try to sit on that hump! + +"But that wasn't the only thing that he did. Dear me, no! He danced, and +rolled, and seesawed up and down--'pitching,' Mr. Hartley called it. And +I'm sure it looked like it. First he'd try standing on his two fore +feet, then he'd give them a rest, and take the other two. And sometimes +he couldn't seem to make up his mind which he wanted to use, or which +way he wanted to turn, and he'd change about right up in the air so he'd +come down facing the other way. My, he was the most uncertain creature! + +"It didn't seem to make a mite of difference where the horse was, or +what he did with his feet, though. Reddy was right there every time, and +all _ready_, too. (Yes, I know a pun is the lowest order of wit. But I +don't care. I couldn't help it, anyway--it was such a _ready_ one!) +There he sat, so loose and easy, too, with his quirt (that's a whip), +and it looked sometimes just as if he wasn't half trying--that he didn't +need to. But I'm sure he was trying. Anyhow, I know I couldn't have +stayed on that horse five minutes; and I don't believe even Genevieve +could. (I said that to Mr. Tim Nolan, and he laughed so hard I thought +I'd put it in here, and let somebody else laugh.) + +"Of course every one of us was awfully excited, and the boys kept +shouting and cheering, and yelling 'Stay with him!' and telling him not +to 'go to leather'--whatever that may mean! And Reddy did stay. He +stayed till the little horse got tired out; then he got off, and led the +horse away, and some of the other boys went through a good deal the same +sort of thing with other horses, only these had all been partly broken +before, they told us. But, mercy, they were bad enough, anyhow, I +thought, to have been brand-new. Reddy did another one, too, and this +time he put silver half-dollars under his feet in the stirrups: And when +the little beast--the horse, I mean, not Reddy--got through his antics, +there the half-dollars were, still there in the same old place. How the +boys did yell and cheer then! + +"After that, they all just 'showed off' for us, throwing their ropes +over anything and everything, and playing like a crowd of little boys on +a picnic, only Mr. Hartley said they were doing some 'mighty fine +roping' with it all. Their ropes are mostly about forty feet long, and +it looked as if they just slung them any old way; but I know they don't, +for afterward, just before we went in to supper, Reddy let me take his +rope, and I tried to throw it. I aimed for a post a little way ahead of +me, but I got Pedro, the Mexican cowboy, behind me, right 'in the neck,' +as Mr. Tim said. Pedro grinned, and of course everybody else laughed +horribly. + +"And thus endeth the account of how the bronchos were busted. (P.S. I +hope whoever reads the above will own up that for once Tilly Mack got +some sense into her part. So there!) I forgot to say we took a nap after +dinner. Everybody does here. 'Siestas' they call them, Genevieve says." + + * * * * * + +It was after supper that Genevieve said: + +"Now let's go out on to the front gallery and watch the sunset. Supper +was too late last night for us to see much of it, but to-night it will +be fine--and you've no idea what a sunset really can be until you've +seen it on the prairie!" + +Tilly pursed her lips. + +"There, Genevieve Hartley, there's another of those mysterious words of +yours; and it isn't the first time I've heard it here, either." + +"What word?" + +"'Gallery.' What is a gallery? I'm sure I don't see what there can be +about a one-story house to be called a 'gallery'!" + +Genevieve laughed. + +"You call them 'verandas' or 'piazzas,' back East, Tilly. We call them +'galleries' in Texas." + +"Oh, is that it?" frowned Tilly. "But you never called Sunbridge piazzas +that." + +Genevieve shook her head. + +"No; it's only when I get back here that the old names come back to me +so naturally. Besides--when I was East, I very soon found out what you +called them; so I called them that, too." + +"Well, anyhow," retorted Tilly, saucily, "I've got my opinion of folks +that will call a one-story piazza a 'gallery.' I should just like to +show them what we call a 'gallery' at home--say, the top one in the +Boston Theater, you know, where it runs 'way back." + +Genevieve only laughed good-naturedly. + +On the front gallery all settled themselves comfortably to watch the +sunset. Already the sun was low in the west, a huge ball of fire just +ready to drop into the sea of prairie grass. + +"It doesn't seem nearly so hot here as I thought it would," observed +Bertha, after a time. "Oh, it's been warm to-day, of course--part of +the time awfully warm," she added hastily. "But I've been just as hot in +New Hampshire." + +"We think we've got a mighty fine climate," spoke up Mr. Hartley. "Now, +last year, you in the East, had heaps of prostrations from the heat. +Texas had just three." + +"I suppose that was owing to the Northers," murmured Cordelia, +interestedly. "Now, feel it!" She put up her hand. "There's a breeze, +now. Is that a Norther?" + +Mr. Hartley coughed suddenly. Genevieve stared. + +"What do you know about Northers?" she demanded. + +"Why, I--I read about them. It said you--you had them." + +Genevieve broke into a merry laugh. + +"I should think, by the way you put it, that they were the measles or +the whooping cough! We do have them, Cordelia--in the winter, specially, +but not so often in July. Besides, they don't feel much like this little +breeze--as you'd soon find out, if you happened to be in one." + +For a moment there was silence; then Genevieve spoke again. + +"See here, where'd you find out all these things about Texas--that we +didn't have butter, and did have Northers?" + +Before Cordelia could answer, Tilly interposed with a chuckling laugh: + +"I'll tell you, Genevieve, just where they found out," she cut in, +utterly ignoring her own share of the "they." "Now, listen! How do you +suppose they spent all the time you were in New Jersey? I'll tell you. +They were digging up Texas every single minute; and they dug, and dug, +and dug, until there wasn't a mean annual temperature, or a mean +anything else that they didn't drag from its hiding-place and hold up +triumphantly, and shout: 'Behold, this is Texas!'" + +"Girls--you didn't!" cried Genevieve, choking with laughter. + +"They did!" affirmed Tilly. + +"Yes, _we_ did--including Tilly," declared Cordelia, with unexpected +spirit. + +Everybody laughed this time, but it was Alma, the peacemaker, who spoke +next. + +"Oh, look--look at the sun!" she exclaimed. "Aren't those rose-pink +clouds gorgeous?" + +"My, wouldn't they make a lovely dress?" sighed Elsie. + +"Yes, and see the golden pathway the sun has made, straight down to the +prairie," cried Bertha Brown. + +"Oh, look, look, Mr. Hartley! Is that grass on fire?" gasped Cordelia. + +Mr. Hartley shook his head. + +"No--I hope not." + +"But you do have prairie fires?" + +"Sometimes; but not so often nowadays--though I've seen some bad ones, +in my time." + +There was a long silence. All eyes were turned toward the west. Above, a +riot of rose and gold and purple flamed across the sky. Below, more +softly, the colors seemed almost repeated in the waving, shifting, +changing expanse of fairylike loveliness that the prairie had become. + +"Oh, how beautiful it all is, and how I do love it," breathed Genevieve, +after a time, as if to herself. + +Gradually the gorgeous rose and gold and purple changed, softened, and +faded quite away. The slender crescent of the moon appeared, and one by +one the stars showed in the darkening sky. + +"It's all so quiet, so wonderfully quiet," sighed Cordelia; then, +abruptly, she cried: "Why, what's that?" + +There had sounded a far-away shout, then another, nearer. On the breeze +was borne the muffled tread of hundreds of hoofs. A dog began to bark +lustily. + + * * * * * + +Later, they swept into view--a troop of cowboys, and a thronging, +jostling mass of cattle. + +"On the way to a round-up, probably," explained Mr. Hartley, as he rose +to his feet and went to meet the foreman, who was coming toward the +house. + +Still later, he explained more fully. + +"They've put them in our pens for the night. The boys have gone into +camp a mile or so away." + +Genevieve shuddered. + +"I hate round-ups," she cried passionately. + +"What are round-ups?" asked Bertha Brown. + +"Where they brand the cattle," answered Genevieve, quickly, but in a low +voice. + +Cordelia, who was near her, shuddered. She seemed now to see before her +eyes that seething mass of heads and horns, sweeping on and on +unceasingly. + +Cordelia had two dreams that night. She wondered, afterward, which was +the worse. She dreamed, first, that an endless stream of cattle climbed +the windmill tower and jumped clear to the edge of the prairie, where +the sun went down. She dreamed, secondly, that she was very hungry, and +that twenty feet away stood a table laden with hot biscuits and fried +chicken; but that the only way she could obtain any food was to "rope +it" with Reddy's lariat. At the time of waking up she had not obtained +so much as one biscuit or a chicken wing. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +CORDELIA GOES TO CHURCH + + +"We're going to have church to-morrow," Genevieve had announced on the +first Saturday night at the ranch. "A minister is coming from Bolo, and +he holds the service out of doors. Everybody on the place comes, and we +sing, and it's lovely!" + +As it happened, Cordelia had not been present when Genevieve made this +announcement. It was left for Tilly, therefore, to tell her. + +"Oh, Cordelia, I forgot. We're going to have church to-morrow," she said +that night, as she was brushing her hair in their room. + +Cordelia, who was taking off her shoes, looked up delightedly. + +"Oh, Tilly--church? We're going to church?" + +Tilly laughed; then an odd little twist came to her mouth. + +"Yes, Cordelia; we're--going to church," she answered. + +"What time?" + +"Eleven o'clock, Genevieve said." + +"Oh, won't that be fun--I mean, I'm very glad," corrected Cordelia, +hastily, a confused red in her cheeks. + +In Cordelia's bed that night, Cordelia thought happily: + +"Maybe now I can get some new ideas for Uncle Thomas to put in his +services. They do everything so differently here in the West, and +Uncle's audiences get so small sometimes, specially Sunday evenings." + +In Tilly's bed, Tilly, a little guilty as to conscience, was trying to +excuse herself. + +"Well, anyhow," she was arguing mentally, "Genevieve said 'everybody +comes,' and if they 'come' they must 'go'; so of course we're 'going' to +church." + +Not until Cordelia was dropping off to sleep did something occur to her. +She sat up, then, suddenly. + +"Tilly," she called softly, "where is that church? Do we have to ride +eighteen miles to Bolo?" + +Tilly did not answer. She was asleep, decided Cordelia--it was dark, and +Cordelia could not see the pillow Tilly was stuffing into her mouth. + + * * * * * + +Just after breakfast Sunday morning, Elsie Martin said a low word in +Genevieve's ear, and drew her out of earshot of the others. Her eyes +were anxious. + +"Genevieve, do you have to dress up much for this kind of--of church?" +she questioned. + +"Not a bit, dear. Don't worry. Anything you have will be lovely." + +"I know; but--well, you see, it's just this," she quavered. "Aunt Kate +fixed up the girls' green chambray for me just before we came. I saw +then it didn't look just right, but we were in such an awful hurry there +wasn't time to do anything; and I was so excited, anyway, that I didn't +seem to mind, much. But out here, in the bright light, it looks +awfully!" + +"Nonsense! That's all your own notion, Elsie," rejoined Genevieve, +comfortingly. "I'm sure it looks lovely. Anyhow, it wouldn't matter if +it didn't--here." + +Elsie shook her head despondently. + +"But you don't understand," she said. "You know the twins dress alike, +and this was their green chambray. Aunt Kate always likes to use their +things, she says, because there's always double quantity; but this time +it didn't work so well. You see, Cora was sick a lot last summer, when +they had this dress, and she didn't wear hers half so much as Clara did, +so hers wasn't faded hardly any. It was an awful funny color to begin +with; but it's worse now, with part of it one shade, and part another. +You see, one sleeve's made of Cora's, and one of Clara's; and the front +breadth is Cora's and the back is Clara's. Of course Aunt Kate cut it +out where she could do it best, and didn't think but what they were +alike; but you don't know what a funny-looking thing that dress is! I--I +don't know whether to turn Clara toward folks, or Cora," she finished +with a little laugh. + +Genevieve heard the laugh--but she saw that it came through trembling +lips. + +"Well, I just wouldn't fret," she declared, with an affectionate little +hug. "If you don't want to wear it, wear something else. What a nuisance +clothes are, anyhow! I've always said I wished we didn't have to change +our dress every time we turned around!" + +Elsie's eyes became wistful. She shook her head sadly. + +"You don't know anything about it, Genevieve. Your clothes _haven't_ +been a nuisance to you--even if you think they have. You see, you don't +realize how nice it is to have such a lot of pretty things--and all +new," she sighed as she turned away. + +When Genevieve went to her room to dress for "church" that morning, she +looked a little thoughtfully at the array of pretty frocks hanging in +her closet. + +"I wish I could give some to Elsie," she sighed; "but Elsie isn't poor, +of course, and I suppose she--she wouldn't take them. But I suspect I +don't half appreciate them myself--just as Elsie said," she finished, as +she took down a fresh, white linen. + +At quarter before eleven Cordelia Wilson knocked at Genevieve's door. +Genevieve opened it to find Cordelia in a neat jacket suit, hat on, and +gloves in hand. + +"Am I all right, Genevieve?" she asked. "I wasn't quite sure just what +to wear." + +"Why, y-yes--only you don't need the hat, nor the gloves, dear; and I +shouldn't think you'd want that coat, it's so warm!" + +"Not want a hat, or gloves," burst out Cordelia, looking distinctly +shocked. "Why, Genevieve Hartley! I know you do very strange things here +in the West, but I did suppose you--you dressed properly to go to +church!" + +"But it isn't really church, Cordelia," smiled Genevieve. "I only call +it so, you know. And of course we don't 'go' at all--only as far as the +back gallery." + +Cordelia stared, frowningly. + +"You mean you don't drive off--anywhere?" she demanded. "That you have a +service right here?" + +"Yes. I thought you knew." + +"But Tilly said--why, I don't know what she did say, exactly, but she +let me think we were going to drive off somewhere. And look at +me--rigged out like this! You know how she'll tease me!" There were +almost tears in Cordelia's sensitive eyes. + +"Has she seen you--in this?" + +"No; but she will when I go back. I saw her whisk through the hall to +our room just as I crossed through to come in here." + +"Then we won't let her see you," chuckled Genevieve. "Here, let's have +your hat and gloves and coat. I'll hide them in my closet. You can get +them later when Tilly isn't around. Now run back and put a serene face +on it. Just don't let her suspect you ever thought of your hat and +gloves." + +"But, do you think I ought to do--that? Won't it be--deceit?" + +"No, dear, it won't," declared Genevieve, emphatically; "not any sort of +deceit that's any harm. It will just be depriving Miss Tilly of the +naughty fun she expected to have with you. You _know_ how Tilly loves to +tease folks. Well, she'll just find the tables turned, this time. Now +run back quick, or she'll suspect things!" And, a little doubtfully, +Cordelia went. + +As she had expected, she found Tilly in their room. + +"Why don't you get ready for church, Cordy?" demanded Tilly, promptly. + +"I am ready. I dressed early, before you came in," returned Cordelia, +trying to speak very unconcernedly. "Why? Don't you think this will do?" + +"Oh, yes, of course. You look very nice," murmured Tilly, a little +hastily, sending a furtive glance into Cordelia's face. There was +nothing, apparently, about Cordelia to indicate that anything +unexpected had occurred, or was about to occur; and she herself could +not, of course, ask why no preparations for an eighteen-mile journey +were being made, specially when she had pretended to be asleep the night +before when Cordelia asked her question about that same journey. "You +look very nice, I'm sure," murmured Tilly, again. And Cordelia, hearing +the vague disappointment in Tilly's voice, was filled with joy--that yet +carried a pang of remorse. + +It was a little later, just as Tilly was leaving the room, that Cordelia +turned abruptly. + +"Tilly, I did have on my hat and coat," she burst out hurriedly. "I did +think we were going to drive 'way off somewhere to church. But I found +out and hid them in Genevieve's room, so you would not know and--and +tease me," she finished breathlessly. + +Tilly turned back with a laugh. + +"You little rogue!" she began; then she stopped short. Her face changed. +"But--why in the world did you tell me now?" she demanded curiously. + +"I thought I ought to." + +"Ought to!--ought to let me tease you!" echoed the dumfounded Tilly. + +Cordelia stirred restlessly. + +"Not that, of course, exactly," she stammered. "It's only that--that it +seemed somehow like--deceiving you." + +For a moment Tilly stared; then, suddenly, she darted across the room +and put both arms around the minister's niece. Cordelia was not quite +sure whether she was hugging her, or shaking her. + +"Oh, you--you--I don't know _what_ you are!" Tilly was exclaiming. "But +you're a dear, anyhow!" And it was actually a sob that the astounded +Cordelia heard as Tilly turned and fled from the room. + + * * * * * + +To Sunbridge eyes, "church" that morning was something very new and +novel. At eleven o'clock Genevieve and her father piloted their guests +to the back gallery where seats had been reserved for them. The +minister, a dark-haired, tired-looking man with kind eyes, had arrived +some time before on horseback. To Mrs. Kennedy, especially, he looked a +little too unconventional in his heavy boots and coarse garments which, +though plainly recently brushed, still showed the dust of the prairie in +spots. He sat now at one side talking with Mr. Tim while his +"congregation" was gathering. + +And what a congregation it was! As Genevieve had said, everybody on the +ranch came, except those whose duties prohibited them from coming. +Singly, or in picturesque groups, they settled themselves comfortably on +the back gallery, or along the covered way leading to the dining-room. +Even Teresa, in a huge fresh apron that made her great bulk look even +greater, sat just outside the dining-room door, where she could easily +run in from time to time, to see that the roast chickens in the oven +were not burning, nor the beets on the stove boiling dry. + +The "pulpit" was a little stand placed at the house-end of the covered +way. The "choir" was the piano in the living-room drawn up close to the +window, with Genevieve herself seated at it. Nor was the "church" itself +devoid of beauty, with its growing vines and flowers, and its shifting +lights and shadows as the soft clouds sailed slowly through the blue sky +overhead. As to the audience--no scholarly orator in a Fifth Avenue +cathedral found that day more attentive listeners than did that +tired-looking minister find in the curiously-assorted groups before +him--the swarthy Mexicans, the picturesque cowboys, the eager-eyed, +fresh-faced young girls from a far-away town in the East. + +They sang first, Genevieve's own clear voice leading; and even Tilly, +who seldom sang in church at home, found herself joining heartily in +"Nearer my God to Thee," and "Bringing in the Sheaves." There was +something so free, so whole-souled about the music in that soft outdoor +air, that she, as well as some of the others, decided that never before +had any music sounded so inspiring. + +For the first two minutes after the preacher arose to begin his sermon, +Mrs. Kennedy saw nothing but the dust on the right shoulder of his coat. +But after that she saw nothing but his earnest eyes. She had fallen +then quite under the sway of his clear, ringing voice. + +"'While Josiah was yet young, in the sixteenth year of his age, he began +to seek the God of his fathers,'" announced the clear, ringing voice as +the text; and Genevieve, hearing it, wondered if the minister could have +known that at least a part of his audience that day would be so exactly, +or so very nearly, "in the sixteenth year" of their own age. + +It was a good sermon, and it was well preached. The time, the place, the +occasion, the atmosphere all helped, too. All the Happy Hexagons paid +reverent attention. Tilly, fresh from her somewhat amazing experience +with Cordelia, made many and stern resolutions to be everything that was +good and helpful, nothing that was bad and hateful. Genevieve, who had +slipped off her piano stool to an easier chair, sat with dreamy, tender +eyes. She was thinking of the dear mother, who, as she could so well +remember, had told her that she must always be good and brave and true +first, before anything else. + +"Good and brave and true!" She wondered if she could--always. It seemed +so easy to do it now, with this good man's earnest voice in her ears. +But it was so hard, so strangely hard, at other times. And there were so +many things--so many, many _little_ things--that to Aunt Julia and Miss +Jane looked so big!--things, too, that to her seemed eminently all +right. + +"'When Josiah was yet young, in the sixteenth year of his age, he began +to seek the God of his fathers,'" quoted the minister again, +impressively; and Genevieve realized then, with misty eyes, that the +sermon was done. + + * * * * * + +The minister stayed to dinner, of course; and, in spite of her interest +in the sermon, Teresa had seen to it that the dinner was everything that +one could ask of it. The minister had the place of honor at the table, +and proved to be a most agreeable talker. Genevieve had not caught his +name distinctly, but she thought it was "Jones." He lived in Bolo, he +said, having recently moved there from a distant part of the state. He +hoped that he might be able to do good work there. Certainly there was +need that somebody do something. In response to Mr. Hartley's cordial +invitation to stay a few days at the ranch, he answered with visible +regret: + +"Thank you, sir. Nothing would please me more, but it is quite out of +the question. I must go back this afternoon. I have a service in Bolo +this evening." + +"You must be a busy man," observed Mr. Hartley, genially. + +The minister sighed. + +"I am--yet I can't do half that I want to. This outside work among the +ranches I shall try to carry on as best I can. But you're all so afraid +you'll have a neighbor nearer than a score of miles," he added with a +whimsical smile, "that I can't get among you very often." + +It was after dinner that the minister chanced to hear Genevieve speak of +herself as a Happy Hexagon. + +"Hexagon?--Hexagon?" he echoed smilingly. "And are you, too, a Happy +Hexagon?" he asked, turning to the mistress of the Six Star Ranch. + +"Why, yes. Do you mean you know another one?" questioned the girl, all +interest immediately. "It's the name of our girls' club--the Hexagon +Club." + +"No, but I heard of one, once," rejoined the man. "And it isn't usual, +you know, so it attracted my attention." + +"But where was it? When was it? We supposed we were the only Happy +Hexagons in the world," cried Genevieve. + +The minister smiled. + +"I found my Happy Hexagons at the bottom of a letter from the East." + +"A letter from the East?" Genevieve's voice held now a curious note of +wild unbelief. + +"Yes. It came before we moved to Bolo. My elder daughter was teaching +in the East, and was taken ill. Some of her girls wrote to us." + +Genevieve sprang to her feet. + +"Are you--you can't be--the Rev. Luke Jones!" she cried. + +"That is my name." + +"And is Quentina your daughter?" + +It was the minister's turn to look amazed. + +"Why, yes; but--how do you know? Are you--you can't be--_my_ Happy +Hexagons!" he ejaculated. + +She nodded laughingly. She spoke, too; but what she said was not heard. +All of the Happy Hexagons were talking by that time. The Rev. Mr. Jones, +indeed, found himself besieged on all sides with eager questions and +amazed comments. + +Under cover of the confusion, Mr. Hartley turned in puzzled wonder to +Mrs. Kennedy. + +"_Will_ you tell me what all this is about?" he begged. + +Mrs. Kennedy smiled. + +"Of course! I think perhaps it is all new to you. Last winter Miss Alice +Jones, a Texas lady and the girls' Latin teacher, was taken ill. The +girls were very attentive, and did lots of little things for her; but +she grew worse and had to leave. Just before she went, the mother wrote +a letter thanking the girls, and in the letter was a note signed +'Quentina Jones.' Quentina was a younger sister, it seemed, and she, +too, wished to thank the girls. Of course the girls were delighted, and +immediately answered it, signing themselves 'The Happy Hexagons.' The +teacher went away then, and the girls heard nothing more. But they have +talked of Quentina Jones ever since." + +"But it's all so wonderful," cried Genevieve, her voice rising dominant +at last. "Where is Miss Alice Jones, and how is she?" + +"She is better, thank you, though not very strong yet. She is teaching +in Colorado." + +"Oh, I'm so glad," cried Genevieve, "but I wish we could see her, too. +Only think, girls, of Quentina Jones being right here, only eighteen +miles away!" + +"One would think eighteen miles were a mere step!" laughed Tilly. + +"They are--in Texas," retorted Genevieve. Then, to the minister she +said: "Now tell us, please, Mr. Jones, what we can do. We want to see +Quentina right away, quick. We can't wait! Can she come over? _Can't_ +she? We'd love to have her!" + +The minister shook his head slowly. + +"I'm afraid not, Miss Genevieve--thank you just the same. I'd love to +have her. It would do her such a world of good, poor little girl, to +have one happy time with all you young people! But my wife has a lame +foot just now, and Quentina simply cannot be spared. You know she has +several brothers, so we have quite a family. But, I'll tell you +what--you young ladies must all come to see us." + +"Oh, thank you! We'd love to--and we will, too." (Back in her ranch +home, it was easy for Genevieve to slip into her old independent way of +consulting no one's will but her own.) "When do you want us?" + +"But, my dear," interposed Mrs. Kennedy, hastily, "if Mrs. Jones is not +well, surely we cannot ask her to take in six noisy girls as guests!" + +"Why, no--of course not," stammered Genevieve. The rest of the Happy +Hexagons looked suddenly heartbroken. But the minister smiled +reassuringly. + +"My wife isn't ill--only lame; and she loves young people. She'll be +just as eager for you to come as Quentina will be--and Quentina just +simply won't take 'no' for an answer, I'm sure. She talked for days of +the Happy Hexagons, after your letter came. You must come, only--" he +hesitated, "only I'm afraid you'll be a little cramped for room. A +village parsonage isn't a ranch, you know. But, if you don't mind sort +of--picnicking, and having to stand up in the corner to sleep--" he +paused quizzically. + +"We adore standing up and sleeping in corners," declared Genevieve, +promptly. + +"Then shall we call it Tuesday?" smiled Mr. Jones. + +"But how can they go?" questioned Mrs. Kennedy, in an anxious voice. + +"Why, they might ride it," began Mr. Hartley, slowly; "still, that would +hardly do--even should the ponies come in time--such a long trip when +they haven't ridden any here, yet. I'll tell you. We'll let Carlos drive +them over in the carriage early Tuesday morning. I reckon the seven of +them can stow themselves away, somehow--it holds six with room to spare +on every seat. Then, Wednesday afternoon, he can drive them back. +Meanwhile, he can stay himself in the town and get some supplies that +I'm needing." + +"But seems to me that gives us a very short visit," demurred Mr. Jones, +as he rose to take his leave. + +"Quite long enough--for the good wife," declared Mrs. Kennedy, +decisively. And thus the matter was settled. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +QUENTINA + + +Quite the most absorbing topic of conversation Monday was, of course, +the coming visit to Quentina Jones. + +"But what _is_ her name?" demanded Mr. Hartley at last, almost +impatiently. "It isn't 'Quentina,' of course. I _know_ that man who was +here Sunday would never have named a daughter of his 'Quentina.'" + +"Her name is 'Clorinda Dorinda,'" replied Genevieve. "She told us so in +her letter; but she said she was always called 'Quentina.' I don't know +why." + +"Whew! I should think she would be," laughed Mr. Hartley. "Only fancy +having to be called 'Clorinda Dorinda' whenever you were wanted!" + +"Sounds like a rhyming dictionary to me," chuckled Tilly. "'Clorinda, +Dorinda, Lucinda, Miranda,'" she chanted. + +Mr. Hartley laughed, and walked off. + +"Well, I'll leave her to you, anyhow, whatever she is," he called back. + +"I'll bet he's just dying to go with us, all the same," whispered Tilly, +saucily. + +Cordelia frowned, hesitated, then spoke. + +"Auntie says ladies don't bet," she observed, in her severest manner. + +"Oh, don't they?" snapped Tilly; then she, too, frowned, and hesitated. +"All right, Cordy--Cordelia; see that you don't do it, then," she +concluded good-naturedly. + +Monday was a very quiet day for the girls at the ranch. Mrs. Kennedy had +insisted from the first upon this. She said that the next two days would +be quite exciting enough to call for all the rest possible beforehand. +So, except for the usual watching of the boys' morning start to work, +there was little but music, books, and letter-writing allowed. + +Tuesday dawned clear, but very warm. The girls were all awake at +sunrise, and were soon ready for the early breakfast. Almost at once, +afterward, they stowed themselves--with little crowding but much +giggling--in the carriage, and called gayly to Carlos: "We're all +ready!" + +"Yes, we're all aboard, Carlos," cried Genevieve. + +"Good, Senorita! It is ver' glad I am to see you so prompt to the +halter," grinned Carlos. "_Quien sabe?_--mebbe I didn't reckon on +corrallin' the whole bunch of you so soon!" + +Genevieve laughed, even while she made a wry face. + +"I'm afraid Carlos remembers that I was never on time, girls," she +pouted. "But you don't know, Carlos, what a marvel of promptness I've +become back East--specially since somebody gave me a watch," she +finished, smiling into the old man's face. + +"All ready!" grinned Carlos, climbing into his seat. + +"Let's give our Texas yell," proposed Tilly, softly, as she looked back +to see Mrs. Kennedy, Mr. Hartley, and Mammy Lindy on the gallery steps. +"Now count, Cordelia!" + +And Cordelia did count. Once again her face expressed a tragedy of +responsibility, and once again the resulting + + "Texas, Texas, Tex--Tex--Texas! + Texas, Texas, Rah! Rah! Rah! + GENEVIEVE!" + +was the glorious success it ought to have been. So to a responsive +chorus of shouts, laughter, and hand-clapping, the Happy Hexagons drove +away from the ranch house. + +It was a pleasant drive, though a warm one. It did seem a little long, +too, so anxious were they to reach their goal. The prairie sights and +sounds, though interesting, were not so new, now. Even the two or three +herds of cattle they met, and the groups of cowboys they saw galloping +across the prairies, did not create quite the excitement they always had +created heretofore. Quentina and the minister's home were so much more +interesting to think of! + +"What do you suppose she'll be like?" asked Elsie. + +"_Quien sabe?_" laughed Genevieve. + +"There! what does that mean?" demanded Tilly. "I've heard it lots of +times since I've been here." + +"'Who knows?'" translated Genevieve, smilingly. + +"Yes, who does know?" retorted Tilly, not understanding. "But what does +it mean?" + +Genevieve laughed outright. + +"That's just what it means--'Who knows?' The Mexicans and the cowboys +use it a lot here, and when I come back I get to saying it, too." + +"I should think you did," shrugged Tilly. "Well, anyhow, let's talk +straight English for a while. Let's talk of Quentina. What do you +suppose she's like, girls?" + +"Let's guess," proposed Genevieve. "We can, you know, for Miss Jones was +too sick to tell us anything, and we haven't a thing to go by but +Quentina's letter, and that didn't tell much." + +"All right, let's guess. Let's make a game of it," cried Tilly. "We'll +each tell what we think, and then see who comes the nearest. You begin, +Genevieve." + +"All right. I think she's quiet and tall, and very dark like a +Spaniard," announced Genevieve, weighing her words carefully. + +"I think she's bookish, and maybe stupid," declared Tilly. "Her letter +sounded queer." + +"I think she's little, and got yellow hair and light-blue eyes," said +Bertha. + +"I think she's got curls--black ones--and looks lovely in red," declared +Elsie Martin. + +"We can trust you, Elsie, to get in something about her clothes," +chuckled Tilly. + +"Well, I think she's got brown eyes like Genevieve's, and brown hair +like hers, too," asserted Alma Lane. + +"Now, Cordelia," smiled Genevieve, "it's your turn. You haven't said, +yet." + +"There isn't anything left for me to say," replied Cordelia, in a +slightly worried voice. "You've got all the pretty things used up. I +should just have to say I think she's fat and homely--and I don't think +I ought to say that, for it would be a downright fib. I don't think +she's that at all!" + +There was a general laugh at this; then, for a time, there was silence +while the carriage rolled along the prairie road. + +Carlos had no difficulty in finding the home of the Rev. Mr. Jones in +Bolo. It proved to be a little house, unattractive, and very plain. It +looked particularly forlorn with its bare little front yard, in which +some one had made an attempt to raise nasturtiums and petunias. + +"Mercy! I guess we'll _have_ to stand up in corners to sleep," gurgled +Tilly, as the carriage stopped before the side door. + +"Sh-h!" warned Genevieve. "Tilly, isn't it awful? Only think of our +Quentina's living here!" + +At that moment the door of the little house opened, and Mr. Jones +appeared. From around his feet there seemed literally to tumble out upon +the steps several boys of "assorted sizes," as Tilly expressed it +afterward. Then the girls saw her in the doorway--Quentina. She was +slender, not very tall, but very pretty, with large, dark eyes, and fine +yellow hair that fluffed and curled all about her forehead and ears and +neck. + +"O Happy Hexagons, Happy Hexagons, welcome, welcome, Happy Hexagons!" +breathed the girl in the doorway ecstatically, clasping her hands. + +"Sounds almost like our Texas yell," giggled Tilly, under her breath. + +Genevieve was the first to reach the ground. + +"Quentina--I know you're Quentina; and I'm Genevieve Hartley," she +cried, before Mr. Jones had a chance to speak. + +"Yes, this is Quentina," he said then, cordially shaking Genevieve's +hand. "And now I'll let you present her to your young friends, please, +because you can do it so much better than I." + +They were all out now, on the ground, hanging back a little diffidently. +It was this, perhaps, that made Cordelia think that something ought to +be said or done. She came hurriedly forward as she caught Genevieve's +eye and heard her own name called. + +"Yes, I'm Cordelia, and I'm so glad to see you," she stammered; "and I'm +so glad you're not fat and homely, too--er--that is," she corrected +feverishly, "I mean--we didn't any of us get you right, you know." + +"Get me--right?" Quentina opened her dark eyes to their fullest extent. + +Cordelia blushed, and tried to back away. With her eyes she implored +Tilly or Elsie to take her place. + +It was Genevieve who came to the rescue. + +"We'll have to own up, Quentina," she laughed. "On the way here we were +trying to picture how you look; and of course we each had to guess a +different thing, so we got all kinds of combinations." + +"Yes, but we didn't get yours," chuckled Tilly, coming easily forward, +with outstretched hand. + +"Indeed we didn't," echoed Elsie, admiringly. + +"Why, of course we couldn't," stammered Cordelia, still red of face. "We +never, never _could_ think of anything so pretty as you really are!" + +Quentina laughed now, and raised hurried hands to hide the pretty red +that had flown to her cheeks. + +"Oh, you funny, funny Happy Hexagons!" she cried, in her sweet, Southern +drawl. + +Naturally there could be nothing stiff about the introductions, after +that, and they were dispatched in short order, even to Mr. Jones's +pulling the boys into line, and announcing: + +"This is Paul, with the solemn face. And this grinning little chap is +Edward--Ned, for short; and these are the twins, Bob and Rob." + +"Are they both 'Robert'?" questioned Tilly, interestedly. + +Mr. Jones smiled. + +"Oh, no. Bob is Bolton, and Rob is Robert. The 'Rob and Bob' is +Quentina's idea--she likes the sound of it." + +"I told you!--she _is_ a rhyming dictionary," whispered Tilly, in an +aside that nearly convulsed the two girls that heard her. + +Inside the house they all met "mother." + +Mother, in spite of her lame foot, was a very forceful personality. She +was bright and cheery, too, and she made the girls feel welcome and at +home immediately. + +"It's so good of you to come!" she exclaimed. "Poor Quentina has been +shut up with me for weeks. But I'm better, now--lots better; and I shall +soon be about again." + +"I think it was very good of you to let us come," returned Genevieve, +politely, "specially when you aren't well yourself. But we'll try not to +make you any more trouble than we can't help." + +"Trouble, dear child! I reckon we don't call _you_ trouble," declared +the minister's wife, fervently, "after all your kindness to my daughter, +Alice." Genevieve raised a protesting hand, but Mrs. Jones went on +smilingly. "And then that letter to Quentina--she's never ceased to talk +and dream of the girls who sent it to her." + +"Oh, I did like it so much--indeed I did," chimed in Quentina. "Why, +Genevieve, I made a poem on it--a lovely poem just like Tennyson's +'Margaret,' you know; only I put in 'Hexagons,' and changed the words to +fit, of course." + +Tilly nudged Elsie violently, and Elsie choked a spasmodic giggle into a +cough; but Quentina unhesitatingly went on. + +"It began: + + "'O sweet pale Hexagons, + O rare pale Hexagons, + What lit your eyes with tearful power, + Like moonlight on a falling shower? + Why sent you, loves, so full and free, + Your letter sweet to little me?' + +That's just the first, you know," smiled Quentina, engagingly, "and of +course when I wrote it I didn't know you weren't really 'pale,' at all; +but then, we can just call that part poetic license." + +Genevieve laughed frankly. Tilly giggled. Cordelia looked nervously from +them to Quentina. + +"I'm sure, that--that's very pretty," she faltered. + +Mrs. Jones smiled. + +"I'm afraid, for a little, you won't know just what to make of +Quentina," she explained laughingly. "We're used to her turning +everything into jingles, but strangers are not." + +"Oh, mother, I don't," cried Quentina, reproachfully. "There's heaps and +heaps of things that I never wrote a line of poetry about. But how could +I help it?--that beautiful letter, and the Happy Hexagons, and all! It +just wrote itself. I sent it East, too, to a magazine, two or three +times--but they didn't put it in," she added, as an afterthought. + +"Why, what a shame!" murmured Tilly. + +Genevieve looked up quickly. Tilly was wearing her most innocent, most +angelic expression, but Genevieve knew very well the naughtiness behind +it. Quentina, however, accepted it as pure gold. + +"Yes, wasn't it?" she rejoined cheerfully. "I felt right bad, +particularly as I was going to send you all a copy when it was +published." + +"You can give us a manuscript copy, Quentina. We would love that," +interposed Genevieve, hurriedly. Behind Quentina's back she gave Tilly +then a frowning shake of the head--though it must be confessed that her +dancing eyes rather spoiled the effect of it. + +"Maybe it's because her name rhymes--'Clorinda Dorinda,'" suggested +Tilly, interestedly; "maybe that's why she likes to write poetry so +well." + +Mrs. Jones laughed. + +"That's what her father says. But Clorinda herself changed her own name +about as soon as she could talk. She couldn't manage the hard 'Clorinda' +very well, and I had a Mexican nurse girl, Quentina, whose name she much +preferred. So very soon she was calling herself 'Quentina,' and +insisting that every one else should do the same." + +"But it's so much prettier," declared the minister's daughter, +fervently. "Of course 'Clorinda Dorinda' are some pretty, because they +rhyme so, but I like 'Quentina' better. Besides, there are lots more +pretty words to make that rhyme with--Florena, Dulcina, Rowena, and +verbena, you know." + +"And 'you've seen her,'" suggested Tilly, gravely. + +Quentina frowned a moment in thought. + +"Y-yes," she admitted; "but I don't think that's a very pretty one." + +It was Genevieve this time who choked a giggle into a cough, and who, a +moment later, turned very eagerly to welcome an interruption in the +person of the Rev. Mr. Jones. + +Soon after this Quentina suggested a trip through the house. + +"You see I want to show you where you're going to sleep," she explained. + +"Oh, Mr. Jones told us that," observed Tilly, as the seven girls trooped +up the narrow stairway. "He said we were to stand up in the corners." +Tilly spoke with the utmost gravity. + +Quentina turned, wide-eyed. + +"Why, you couldn't! You'd never sleep a bit," she demurred concernedly. +"Besides, it isn't necessary." + +All but Tilly and Genevieve tittered audibly. Tilly still looked the +picture of innocence. Genevieve frowned at her sternly, then stepped +forward and put her arm around Quentina's waist. + +"Tilly was only joking, Quentina," she explained. "When you know Tilly +better you'll find she never by any chance talks sense--but always +nonsense," she finished, looking at Tilly severely. + +Tilly wrinkled up her nose and pouted; but her eyes laughed. + +"There, here's my room," announced Quentina, a moment later. "We've put +a couch in it, and if you don't mind my sleeping with you, three can be +here. Then across the hall here is the twins' room, and two more can +sleep in this; and Paul and Ned's room down there at the end of the hall +will take the other two. There! You see we've got it fixed right well." + +"Oh, yes--well for us; but how about the boys?" cried Genevieve. "Where +will they sleep?" + +Quentina's lips parted, but before the words were uttered, a new thought +seemed to have come to her. With an odd little glance at Tilly, she +drawled demurely: + +"Oh, they are going to sleep in the corners." + +They all laughed this time. + +"Well, now we've done the whole house, and we'll take the yard," +proposed Quentina, as, a little later, she led the way down-stairs and +out of doors. "There! aren't my nasturtiums beautiful?" she exulted, +with the air of a fond mother displaying her first-born. She was +pointing to a bed of straggling, puny plants, beautifully free from +weeds, and showing here and there a few brilliant blossoms. + +Tilly turned her back suddenly. Cordelia looked distressed. Bertha cried +thoughtlessly: + +"Oh, but you ought to see Genevieve's, Quentina, if you want to see +nasturtiums!" + +"Oh, but I have Carlos," cut in Genevieve, hurriedly, "and Carlos can +make anything grow. What a pretty dark one this is," she finished, +bending over one of the plants. + +Quentina's face clouded. + +"I don't suppose they are much, really," she admitted. "But I've worked +so hard over them! Father says the earth isn't good at all. I was so +pleased when that big red one came out! I made a poem on it right off: + + "'O nasturtium, sweet nasturtium, + Did you blossom just for me? + Where, oh, where did you unearth 'em-- + All those colors that I see?' + +That's the way it began. Wasn't I lucky to think of that 'unearth 'em?' +Besides, it's really true, you know. They do unearth 'em, and 'twas such +a nice rhyme for nasturtium. Now there's petunia; I think that's a +perfectly beautiful sounding word, but I've never been able to find a +single thing that rhymed with it. I do love flowers so," she added, +after a moment; "but we've never had many. They always burn up, or dry +up, or get eaten up, or just don't come up at all. Of course we've never +had a really pretty place. Ministers like us don't, you know," she +finished cheerfully. + +There was no reply to this. Not one of the Happy Hexagons could think of +anything to say. For once even Tilly was at a loss for words. It was +Quentina herself who broke the silence. + +"Now tell me all about the East. Let's go up on the gallery and sit +down. I do so want to go East to school; but of course I can't." + +"Why not?" asked Bertha. + +"Oh, it costs too much," returned Quentina. "You know ministers don't +have money for such things." Her voice was still impersonally cheerful. + +"How old are you?" asked Elsie, as they seated themselves on chairs and +steps. + +"Sixteen last month." + +"Oh, I wish you could go," cried Genevieve. "Wouldn't it be just lovely +if you could come to Sunbridge and go to school with us!" + +"Where is Sunbridge? I always thought of it as just 'East,' you know." + +"In New Hampshire." + +"Oh," said Quentina, with a sigh of disappointment. "I hoped it was in +Massachusetts, near Boston, you know. I thought Alice said it was near +Boston." + +"Well, we aren't so awfully far from Boston," bridled Tilly. "It only +takes an hour and a half or less to go there. I go with mother every +little while when I'm home." + +Quentina sprang to her feet. + +"Boston! Oh, girls, you don't know how I want to see Boston, and Paul +Revere's grave, and the Common, and the old State House, and Bunker +Hill, and that lovely North Church where they hung the lantern, you +know. + + 'Listen, my children, and you shall hear + Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,'" + +she began to chant impressively. "Oh, don't you just love that poem?" + +"Who was Paul Revere?" asked Tilly, pleasantly. + +"Paul Revere!" exclaimed Quentina, plainly shocked. "Who was _Paul +Revere_!" + +"Tilly!" scolded Genevieve, as soon as she could command her voice. +"Quentina, that's only some of Tilly's nonsense. Tilly knows very well +who Paul Revere was." + +"Yes, of course she does; and we all do," interposed Elsie Martin. "But +I'll own right up, I don't know half as much about all those historical +things and places as I ought to." + +"Neither do I," chimed in Bertha. "Just because they're right there +handy, and we can go any time, we--" + +"We _don't_ go any time," laughed Alma Lane, finishing the sentence for +her. + +"I know it," said Elsie. "We had a cousin with us for two weeks last +summer, and she just doted on old relics and graveyards. She made us +take her into Boston 'most every day, and she asked all sorts of +questions which I couldn't answer." + +"Yes, I know; but excuse me, please," put in Tilly, flippantly. "I don't +want any graveyards and relics in mine." + +"That's slang, Tilly," reproved Cordelia. + +"Is it?" murmured Tilly, serenely. + +"Besides, people come from miles and miles just to see those things that +we neglect, right at our doors, almost." + +"But how can you neglect them?" remonstrated Quentina. "Why, if I ever +go to Boston, I sha'n't sleep nor eat till I've seen Paul Revere's +grave!" + +"Well, I shouldn't sleep nor eat if I did," shuddered Tilly. + +"You mean you've _never_ seen it?" gasped Quentina, unbelievingly. + +"Guilty!" Tilly held up her hand unblushingly. + +"Never you mind, Quentina," soothed Genevieve. "We are interested in +those things, really." + +"Then you have seen it?" + +"Er--n-no, not that one," confessed Genevieve, coloring. "But I've seen +heaps of other graves there," she assured her hopefully, as if graves +were the only open door to Quentina's favor. + +"Oh, you've had such chances," envied Quentina. "Just think--Boston! You +_said_ you were near Boston?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"Less than two hours away?" + +"Why, yes," exclaimed Tilly, "I told you. We're less than an hour and a +half away." + +"And are you a D. A. R., and Colonial Dames, and Mayflower Society +members, and all that?" + +"Dear me! I don't know," laughed Genevieve. "Why?" + +"And do you read the _Atlantic Monthly_, and eat beans Saturday night, +and fishballs Sunday morning?" still hurried on Quentina. "You don't any +of you wear glasses, and I don't think you speak very low." + +"Anything else?" asked Tilly politely. + +"Oh, yes, lots of things," answered Quentina, "but I've forgotten most +of them." + +"Quentina, what _are_ you talking about?" laughed Genevieve. + +Quentina smiled oddly, then she sighed. + +"It wasn't true, of course. I knew it couldn't be." + +"What wasn't true?" + +"Something I found in one of father's church papers about Rules for +Living in New England. I cut it out. Wait a minute--it's here, +somewhere!" And, to the girls' amazement, she dived into a pocket at the +side of her dress, pulling out several clippings which seemed, mostly, +to be verse. One was prose, and it was on this she pounced. "Here it is. +Listen." And she read: + +"'Rules for Living in New England. You must be descended from the +Puritans, and should belong to the Mayflower Society, or be a D. A. R., +a Colonial Dame, or an S. A. R. You must graduate from Harvard, or +Radcliffe, and must disdain all other colleges. You must quote Emerson, +read the _Atlantic Monthly_, and swear by the _Transcript_. You must +wear glasses, speak in a low voice, eat beans on Saturday night, and +fishballs on Sunday morning. Always you must carry with you a green bag, +and you should be a professional man, or woman, preferably of the +literary variety. You should live not farther away from Boston than two +hours' ride, and of course you will be devoted to tombstones, relics, +and antiques. You may tolerate Europe, but you must ignore the West. You +must be slow of speech, dignified of conduct, and serene of temper. You +must never be surprised, nor display undue emotion. Above all, you must +be _cultured_.' + +"Now you see you haven't done all those things," she declared, as she +finished the article. + +"I reckon there are a few omissions--specially on my part," laughed +Genevieve. + +"But you are happy there?" + +"Indeed I am!" + +"How I do wish I could go," sighed Quentina. "I should love Boston, I +know. Alice did--though she still liked Texas better." + +"Well, I know Boston would love you," chuckled Tilly, unexpectedly. +"Girls, wouldn't she be a picnic in Sunbridge? She'd be more of a circus +than you were, Genevieve!" + +"Thank you," bowed Genevieve, with mock stiffness. + +"Oh, we loved you right away--and we should Quentina, of course." + +"Thank you," bowed Quentina, in her turn, laughingly. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE OPENING OF A BARREL + + +It was a merry afternoon and evening that the Happy Hexagons spent at +Quentina's home, and it was still a merrier time that they had getting +settled for the night. Even Tilly said at last: + +"Well, Quentina, it's lucky a lame foot doesn't have ears. I don't know +what your mother will say to us!" + +"Only fancy if Miss Jane were here," shivered Genevieve. + +It was just as the family were finishing breakfast the next morning that +there came a knock at the door, and a man rolled in a large barrel. + +"Oh, it's the missionary barrel--our barrel from the East!" cried +Quentina. "I wonder now--what do you suppose there is in it?" + +"There isn't anything, I reckon, except old things," piped up Rob, +shrilly. + +Mrs. Jones colored painfully. + +"Robert, my son!" she remonstrated, in evident distress. + +"Well, mother, you _know_ there isn't--most generally," defended +Robert. + +"And if they _are_ new, they're the sort of things we couldn't ever +use," added Ned. + +"Boys, boys, that will do," commanded the minister, quickly. + +The minister, with Paul's help, had the barrel nearly open by this time. + +"It isn't from Sunbridge, is it?" asked Genevieve. + +"No--though we get them from there sometimes; but this is from a little +town in Vermont," replied Mrs. Jones. "We had a letter last week from +the minister. He--he apologized a little; said that times had been hard, +and that they'd had trouble to fill it. As if it wasn't hard enough for +us to take it, without that!" she finished bitterly, with almost a sob. + +"Rita, my dear!" murmured her husband, in a low, distressed voice. + +Mrs. Jones dashed quick tears from her eyes. + +"I know; I don't mean to be ungrateful. But--times have been a little +hard--with _us_!" + +Silent, and a little awed, the Happy Hexagons stood at one side. +Genevieve, especially, looked out from troubled eyes. Very slowly +Genevieve was waking up to the fact that not every one in the world had +luxuries, or even what she would call ordinary comforts of living. Mrs. +Jones, seeing her face, spoke hurriedly. + +"There, there, girls, please forget what I said! It was very kind of +those good people to send the barrel--very kind; and I am sure we shall +find in it just what we want." + +"I know what you hope will be there," cried Bob, "a new coat for Father, +and a dress for you, and some underclothes for us boys. I heard you say +so last night." + +"Yes; and Quentina wants a ribbon--not dirty ones," observed Rob. + +"Robert!" cried Quentina, very red of face. "You know I don't _expect_ +anything of the sort." + +The barrel was open now, and eagerly the family gathered around it. Even +Mrs. Jones's chair was drawn forward so that she, too, might peep into +it. + +First there was a great quantity of newspapers--the people had, indeed, +found trouble to fill it, evidently. Next came a pincushion--faded pink +satin, frilled with not over-clean white lace. + +"I can use the lace for a collar," cried Quentina, taking prompt +possession of the cushion. "I'm right glad of this!" + +A picture came next in a tarnished gilt frame--evidently somebody's +early attempts to paint nasturtiums in oil. + +"There's a rival for your posies out in the yard," murmured Tilly in +Quentina's ear. + +A pair of skates was pulled out next, then three dolls, one minus an +arm. + +"These might be good--on ice," remarked Paul, who had picked up the +skates. + +"Do you ever have any ice to skate on, here?" asked Bertha. + +"Not in the part of Texas I've ever been in," he sighed. + +Mrs. Jones was ruefully smoothing the one-armed doll's flimsy dress. + +"I--I _told_ them there were no little girls in the family," she said, +her worried eyes seeking her husband's face. "It--it's all right, of +course; only--only these dolls did take space." + +Some magazines came next, and a few old books, upon which the boys fell +greedily--though the books they soon threw to one side as if they were +of little interest. + +Undergarments appeared then, plainly much worn and patched. To Genevieve +they looked quite impossible. She almost cried when she saw how eagerly +Mrs. Jones gathered the motley pile into her arms and began to sort them +out with little exclamations of satisfaction. + +Next in the barrel were found an ink-stained apron, a bath-robe, nearly +new--which plainly owed its presence to its hideous colors--two or three +tin dishes (not new), a harmonica, a box containing a straw hat trimmed +with drooping blue bows, several fans, a box of dominoes, a pocket-knife +with a broken blade, several pairs of new hose, marked plainly +"seconds," some sheets and pillow-cases (half-worn, but hailed with joy +by Mrs. Jones), a kimono, an assortment of men's half-worn +shoes--pounced upon at once by Paul and his father, and not abandoned +until it was found that only two were mates, and only one of these good +for much wear. + +It was at this point that there came a muffled shout from Ned, whose +head was far down in the barrel. + +"Here's a package--a big one--and it's marked 'dress for Mrs. Jones.' +Mother, you did get it, after all!" he cried, tumbling the package into +his mother's lap. + +Tremblingly half a dozen pairs of hands attempted to untie the strings +and to unwrap the coverings; then, across Mrs. Jones's lap there lay a +tawdry dress of pale-blue silk, spotted and soiled. Pinned to it was a +note in a scrawling feminine hand: "This will wash and make over nicely, +I think, if you can't wear it just as it is." + +"We have so many chances to wear light-blue silk, too," was all that +Mrs. Jones said. + +In the bottom of the barrel were a few new towels, very coarse, and some +tablecloths and small, fringed napkins, also very coarse. + +"Well, I'm sure, these are handy," stammered the minister, who had not +found his coat. + +"Oh, yes," answered his wife, wearily; "only--well, it so happens that +every box for the last five years has held tea-napkins--and I don't give +many teas, you know, dear." + +Genevieve choked back a sob. + +"I--I never saw such a--a horrid thing in all my life, as that barrel +was," she stormed hotly. "I don't see what folks were thinking of--to +send such things!" + +"They weren't thinking, my dear, and that's just what the trouble was," +answered Mrs. Jones, gently. "They didn't think, nor understand. +Besides, there are very many nice things here that we can use +beautifully. There always are, in every box, only--of course, some +things _aren't_ so useful." + +"I should say not!" snapped Genevieve. + +"Well, I didn't suppose anything could make me glad because Aunt Kate +makes over the girls' things for me," spoke up Elsie Martin; "but +something has now. She can't send them in any missionary boxes, anyhow!" + +Mrs. Jones laughed, though she looked still more disturbed. + +"But, girls, dear girls, please don't say such things," she +expostulated. "We are very, very grateful--indeed we are; and it is +right kind of them to remember us far-away missionaries with boxes and +barrels!" + +"'Missionary'!" sputtered Genevieve. "'Missionary'! I should think +somebody had better be missionary to them, and teach them what to send. +Dolls and skates, indeed!" + +"But, my dear," smiled Mrs. Jones, "those might have been just the +things--in some places; and besides, some of the boxes are--are better +than this. Indeed they are!" + +It was at this point that Cordelia came forward hurriedly, and touched +Mrs. Jones's arm. Her face was a little white and strained looking. + +"Mrs. Jones," she faltered, "I think I ought to tell you. I'm a +minister's niece, and I've seen lots of missionary boxes packed. I know +just how they do it, too. I know just how thoughtless they--I mean +we--are; and I just wanted to say that I'm very, very sure the next time +we pack a box for any missionary, we'll--we'll see that our old shoes +are mates, and that we don't send dolls to boys!" + +There was a shout of gleeful appreciation from the boys, but there were +only troubled sighs and frowns on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Jones. + +"Dear me! I--I wish the barrel hadn't come when you were here," +regretted the minister's wife; "for indeed the things are all very, very +nice. Indeed they are!" + +"And now let's go out to the flowers," proposed Quentina. "Maybe a new +nasturtium has blossomed." + +All but one of the girls had left the room when Mr. Jones felt a timid +touch on his arm. + +"Mr. Jones, could I speak to you--just a minute, please?" asked a low +voice. "I'm Cordelia Wilson, you know." + +"Why, certainly, Miss Cordelia! What can I do for you?" he answered +genially, leading the way to the tiny study off the sitting room. + +"Well, I'm not sure you can do anything," replied Cordelia, with +hesitating truthfulness. "But I wanted to ask: _do_ you know anybody in +Texas by the name of Mr. John Sanborn, or Mrs. Lizzie Higgins, or Mr. +Lester Goodwin, or Mr. James Hunt?" + +The minister looked a little surprised. + +"N-no, I can't say that I do," he said, slowly. + +Cordelia's countenance fell. + +"Oh, I'm so sorry! You see I thought--being a minister out here, +so,--you might know them." + +"But--Texas is quite a large state," he reminded her, with a smile. + +"I know," sighed the girl. "I've found that out." + +"Are these people friends of yours?" + +"Oh, no; they're just a son, and a brother, and a cousin, and a runaway +daughter that I'm looking up for Sunbridge people." + +"Oh, indeed!" The minister hoped his voice was politely steady. + +"Yes, sir. Of course I haven't had a chance to ask many people, +yet--only one or two of the cowboys. One of them was named 'John,' but +he wasn't my John--I mean, he wasn't the right John," corrected +Cordelia with a pink blush. + +The minister coughed a little spasmodically behind his hand. As he did +not speak Cordelia went on, her eyes a little wistful. + +"Would you be willing, please, to take those names down on paper, Mr. +Jones?" + +"Why, certainly, Miss Cordelia," agreed the man, reaching for his +notebook. + +"You see you _are_ a minister, and you do meet people, so you might find +them. I'd be so glad if you could, or if I could. They're all needed +very much--indeed they are. You see, Hermit Joe is so lonesome for his +son, and Mrs. Snow so worried about Lizzie, and Mrs. Granger has lost +her husband, so she hasn't anybody left but her cousin, now, and Miss +Sally is so very poor and needs her brother so much." + +"Of course, of course," murmured the minister. + +A few moments later his notebook bore this entry, which had been made +under Cordelia's careful direction: + + "Wanted:--Information about-- + + John Sanborn whose father is lonesome, + Mrs. Lizzie Higgins " mother " worried, + Lester Goodwin " cousin " a widow, + and + James Hunt " sister " very poor." + +"If I find any of these people I'll convey all your messages to the best +of my ability," promised the minister. + +"Thank you. Then I'll go out now to the nasturtiums," sighed the girl, +contentedly. + +All too soon the visit came to a close, and all too soon Carlos appeared +with the carriage. Then came hurried good-byes, full of laughter, tears, +and promises, with all the Jones family except the mother, grouped upon +the steps--and the mother's chair was close to the window. + + "Oh, Happy Hexagons, Happy Hexagons, + Come again another day. + Oh, don't forget me, Happy Hexagons, + When you are so far away!" + +chanted Quentina, waving one handkerchief, and wiping her eyes with +another. + +"Girls, quick!--give her the Texas yell," cried Genevieve in a low +voice; "only say 'Quentina' at the end instead of my name. Now, +remember--'Quentina'!" she finished excitedly. + +"Good!" exulted Tilly. "Of course we will! Now count, Cordelia." + +A moment later, Quentina's amazed, delighted ears heard: + + "Texas, Texas, Tex--Tex--Texas! + Texas, Texas, Rah! Rah! Rah! + Quentina!" + +Then, amidst a chorus of shouts and laughter, the carriage drove away. + + * * * * * + +"Well, young ladies," demanded Mr. Hartley, when the tired but happy +Hexagon Club trooped up the front steps of the ranch house late that +afternoon, "how about it? What did you think of the fair Quentina?" + +"Think of her! O Quentina, you should 'seen her!" sang Tilly, in so +perfect an imitation of the minister's daughter that the girls broke +into peals of laughter. + +"She's lovely, Father--honestly, she is," declared Genevieve, as soon as +she could speak. + +"And so pretty!" added Cordelia, "and has such a sweet, slow way of +speaking!" + +"Such lovely dark eyes!"--this from Alma. + +"And such glorious hair--all golden and kinky!" breathed Bertha. + +"And she looks just as pretty in her high-necked apron as she does in +her white dress," cried Elsie. + +"Well, well, upon my soul! What is this young lady--a paragon?" laughed +Mr. Hartley, raising his eyebrows. + +"I'll tell you just what she is, sir," vouchsafed Tilly, confidentially. +"She _is_ a rhyming dictionary, Mr. Hartley, just as I said in the first +place; and I'd be willing to guarantee any time that she'd find a rhyme +for any word in this or any other language within two seconds after the +gun is fired. If you don't believe it, you should hear her 'unearth 'em' +on the 'nasturtium.'" + +"Tilly, Tilly!" choked Genevieve, convulsively. + +"Oh, but she _said_ she couldn't find one for petunia," broke in the +exact Cordelia. + +"You don't mean she actually writes--_poetry_!" ejaculated Mrs. Kennedy. + +"Writes it!--my dear lady!" (Tilly had assumed her most superior air.) +"If that were all! But she talks it, day in and day out. Everything is a +poem, from a letter to a scraggly nasturtium. She carries an unfailing +supply of her own verses in her head, and of other people's in her +pocket. If you ask for the butter at the table, you're never sure she +won't strike an attitude, and chant: + + "'Butter, Butter, Oh, good-by! + Better butter ne'er did--er--fly.'" + +"I think I should like to see this young person," observed Mrs. Kennedy, +when the laughter at Tilly's sally had subsided. + +"Maybe you will sometime. She wants to go East," rejoined Tilly. + +"She does? What for?" + +"Principally to see Paul Revere's grave, I believe; incidentally to go +to school." + +"Oh, I wish she could come East to school!" exclaimed Genevieve. + +"So do I--if she'd come to Sunbridge," laughed Tilly. "She takes things +even more literally than Cordelia does. Sometime I'm going to tell her +the moon _is_ made of green cheese, and ask her if she doesn't want a +piece. Ten to one if she won't answer that she doesn't care for cheese, +thank you. Oh, I wouldn't ask to go to _another_ show for a whole year +if she should come to Sunbridge!" + +"Tilly! I don't think you ought to talk like that," remonstrated +Cordelia. "One would think that Quentina was a--a vaudeville show." + +Tilly considered this gravely. + +"Why, Cordelia, do you know?--I believe that is _just_ what she is. +Thank you so much for thinking of it." + +"Tilly!" gasped Cordelia, horrified. + +Genevieve frowned. + +"Honestly, Tilly, I don't think you are quite fair," she demurred. +"Quentina isn't one bit of a show. She's sweet and dear and lovely, with +just some funny ways to make her specially interesting." + +"All right; we'll let it go at that, then," retorted Tilly, merrily. +"She's just specially interesting." + +"She must be," smiled Mrs. Kennedy. "In fact, I should very much like to +see her, and--I don't believe Tilly means her comments to be quite so +unkind as perhaps they sound," she finished with a gentle emphasis that +was not lost on her young audience. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE PRAIRIE--AND MOONLIGHT + + +One by one the long, happy July days slipped away. There was no lack of +amusement, no time that hung heavy--there was so much to be seen, so +much to be done! + +Very soon after the trip to Quentina's home, Mr. Tim produced from +somewhere five stout little ponies, warranted to be broken to +"skirts"--which Genevieve had said would be absolutely necessary, as the +girls would never consent to ride astride. + +It was a nervous morning, however, for five of the Happy Hexagons when +the horses were led up to the door. Cordelia was frankly white-faced and +trembling. Even Tilly looked a little doubtful, as she said, trying to +speak with her usual lightness: + +"Oh, we _know_, of course, Genevieve, that these little beasts won't +teeter up and down like Reddy's broncho; and we hope they'll bear in +mind that Westerners ought to be politely gentle with Easterners, who +aren't brought up to ride jumping jacks. But still, we can't help +wondering." + +"Genevieve, I--I really think I won't ride at all to-day," stammered +Cordelia, faintly; "that is, if you don't mind." + +"But I do mind," rejoined Genevieve, looking much distressed. "Of +course, girls, I wouldn't urge you against your will, for the world; but +we can't have half the fun here unless you ride, for we go everywhere, +'most, in the saddle. And, honestly, Mr. Tim says these horses are +regular cows. Father told him he must get steady ones. Won't you +please--try it? It will break my heart, if you don't. You see I've said +so much to the boys, since I came, about your riding! They were so +surprised to think you could ride, and I was so proud to say you did!" + +"You--you were?" stammered Cordelia. + +"Yes." + +"Well, young ladies," called Mr. Tim, at that moment, "here's the +steadiest little string of horses going! Who'll have the first pick?" + +"I will," cried Cordelia, wetting her dry lips, and speaking with a +stern determination that yet did not quite hide the shake in her voice. +"That is--I don't care about my pick, but I'm going to ride--right +away--quick!" she finished, determined that at least Genevieve should +not be ashamed--of her. + +After all, it was only the first five minutes that were hard. The little +horses were politeness itself, and seemed fully to realize the +responsibilities of their position. The girls, determined not to shame +Genevieve, acquitted themselves with a grace and ease that brought forth +an appreciative cheer from the boys as the young people rode away. + +"Now I feel as if I were in Texas," exulted Tilly, drawing in a full +breath of the fresh, early morning air. + +"I'm so glad--so glad we're all in Texas," cried Genevieve, looking +about her with shining eyes. + + * * * * * + +According to Tilly, there was always "something doing" at the ranch +house. The boys--much to their own surprise, it must be confessed--had +adopted "the whole bunch" (as Long John called the young people), and +were never too busy or too tired to display their skill as ropers or +riders. Always there was the fascinating morning start to work to watch, +and frequently there was in the afternoon some wild little broncho that +needed to be broken to the saddle, or to be trained to stop, wheel +instantly, stand motionless, or to start at top speed, according to his +master's wishes; all of which was a never-ending source of delight to +unaccustomed Eastern eyes. + +For pleasant days there were, too, rides, drives to Bolo, picnic +luncheons, and frolics of every sort. For rainy days there were games +and music in the living room, to say nothing of letters from home to be +read and answered. Most of the twilights--if fair--were spent by +everybody on the front gallery watching the golden ball in the west set +the whole prairie, as well as the sky itself, on fire. In the early +afternoon, of course, there was the inevitable siesta--Tilly's abhorred +"naps." + +There were callers at the ranch house, too. Sometimes a cowboy from a +neighboring ranch came to look after a lost pony, or to see if his +cattle had strayed off the range through a broken fence. Sometimes a +hunter or trapper would stop for a chat on his way to or from Bolo. Once +Susie Billings in her khaki suit and cowboy hat came to spend the day; +and once, on Sunday, Mr. Jones came to hold service again. Much to the +girls' disappointment, Quentina did not come with him. The mother's foot +was better, Mr. Jones said, but the twins had come down with the +whooping cough, and poor Quentina could not be spared to leave home. + +Sometimes a score of men and teams and cowboys with their strings of +horses would pass on their way to a round-up; and once two huge prairie +schooners "docked in the yard," as Tilly termed it; and their weary +owners, at Mr. Hartley's invitation, stopped for a night's rest. + +That was, indeed, a time of great excitement for the Happy Hexagons, for +under Genevieve's fearless leadership they promptly made friends with +the sallow-faced women and the forlorn children, and soon were shown +the mysteries of the inside of the wagon-homes. + +"Mercy! it looks just like play housekeeping; doesn't it?" gurgled +Tilly. + +"But it isn't play at all, my dear," replied one of the women, a little +sadly. "Seems now like as if I ever had a home again what stayed put, +that I'd be happy, no matter where 'twas. Ain't that the way you feel, +Mis' Higgins?" + +"Yes," nodded the other woman, dully, from her perch on the driver's +seat. "But I reckon my man ain't never goin' ter quit wheelin', now." + +Even Genevieve seemed scarcely to know what to reply to this; but a few +minutes later she had succeeded in gaining the confidence of the several +children hanging about their mothers' skirts. Laughingly, then, the +young people trooped away together to look at the flowers--all but +Cordelia Wilson. Cordelia remained behind with the two women. + +"Please--I beg your pardon--but did you say your name was 'Mrs. +Higgins'?" she asked eagerly, turning to the woman on the driver's seat. + +"Why, no--I didn't, Miss. But that's my name." + +"Yes, I know; 'twas the other lady who called you that, of course; but +it doesn't matter, so long as I know 'tis that." + +"Oh, don't it?" murmured the woman, a little curiously. + +"No; and--you came from New Hampshire, once, didn't you?" + +An odd look crossed the woman's face. + +"Well, I ain't sayin' that." + +"But you did--please say that you did," begged Cordelia. "You see, I'm +so anxious to find you!" + +A look that was almost terror came to the woman's eyes now. + +"I don't know nothin' what you're talkin' about, and I don't want to +know, neither," she finished coldly, turning squarely around in her +seat. + +Cordelia hesitated; then she stammered: + +"If--if you think it's because your mother will scold you, I can assure +you that she will not. She is very anxious to hear from you--that's all. +She's been so worried! She wants to know if you're doing well, and all +that." + +"What _are_ you talking about?" demanded the woman, turning sharply back +to Cordelia. + +"Your--mother." + +"My mother is--dead, Miss." + +"Oh-h!" gasped Cordelia. "You mean you _aren't_ Mrs. Lizzie Higgins--she +that was Lizzie Snow of Sunbridge, New Hampshire, who eloped with Mr. +Higgins and ran away to Texas years ago?" + +The woman laughed. Her face cleared. Whatever it was that she had +feared--she evidently feared it no longer. + +"No, Miss. My name isn't 'Lizzie,' and it wa'n't 'Snow,' and I never +heard of Sunbridge, New Hampshire." + +"O dear!" quavered Cordelia. "Mrs. Snow will be so sorry--that is, of +course she'll be glad, too; for you aren't--" With a little gasp of +dismay Cordelia pulled herself up before the words were uttered, but not +before their meaning was quite clear to the woman. + +"Oh, yes, she'll be glad, too, no doubt," she cut in bitterly; "because +I'm not exactly what a woman would want for a lost daughter, now, am I?" + +Cordelia blushed painfully. + +"Oh, please, please don't talk like that! I am sure Mrs. Snow would be +glad to find any one for a daughter--she wants her so! And she's +her--mother, you know." + +The woman's face softened. + +"All right," she smiled, a little bitterly. "If I find her I'll send her +to you." + +"Oh, will you? Thank you so much," cried Cordelia. "And there are some +others, too, that I'm hunting for. Maybe you can find them--traveling +around so much as you do. If you've got a little piece of paper and a +pencil, I'll just write them down, please." + +Thus it happened that when the prairie schooners "sailed away" (again +to quote Tilly), one of them carried a bit of paper on which had been +written full instructions how to proceed should the wife of its owner +ever run across John Sanborn, Lizzie Higgins, Lester Goodwin, or James +Hunt. + + * * * * * + +It was soon after this that the Happy Hexagons and Mr. Tim, returning on +horseback from a long day on the range, met with a delay that would +prevent their reaching the ranch house until some time after dark. + +"Oh, goody! I don't care a bit," chuckled Genevieve, when she realized +the facts of the case. "There is a perfectly glorious moon, and now you +can see the prairie by moonlight. And you never really have seen the +prairie until you do see it by moonlight, you know!" + +"But we have seen it by moonlight--right from your steps," cried Tilly. + +"Oh, but not the same as it will be out here--away from the ranch +house," cried Genevieve. "You just wait! You'll see." + +And they did wait. And they did see. + +It did seem, indeed, that they never before had really seen the prairie; +they all agreed to that, as they gazed in awed delight at the vast, +silvery wonder all about them, some time later. + +"Why, it looks more than ever like the ocean," cried Bertha. + +"That grass over there actually ripples like water in the moonlight," +declared Elsie. + +"I didn't suppose anything could be so beautiful," breathed Cordelia. +"But, Genevieve, won't Mrs. Kennedy be dreadfully worried, at our being +so late?" + +Genevieve gave a sigh. + +"Yes, I'm afraid so," she admitted. "Still, she has Father to comfort +her, and he'll remind her that Mr. Tim is with us, and that delays are +always happening on a day's run like ours." + +"I wish she could see this beautiful sight herself," cried Alma. "She +wouldn't blame us, then, for going wild over it and not minding if we +are a little hungry." + +Tilly, for once, was silent. + +"Well?" questioned Genevieve, after a time, riding up to her side. + +"I don't know any one--only Quentina--who could do justice to it," +breathed Tilly. And, to Genevieve's amazement, the moonlight showed a +tear on Tilly's cheek. + +There was a long minute of silence. The moon was very bright, yet the +many swift-flying clouds brought moments of soft darkness, and cast +weird shadows across the far-reaching prairie. + +"I think I smell a storm coming--sometime," sniffed Mr. Tim, his face to +the wind. + +"Wouldn't it be lovely to have it come while we were out here," gurgled +Tilly. + +"Hardly!" rejoined Mr. Tim with emphasis. "I reckon you needn't worry +about that storm for some hours yet. I'll have you all safely corralled +long before it breaks--never fear." + +"I wasn't fearing. I was hoping," retorted Tilly in a voice that brought +a chuckle to the man's lips. + +A moment later Mr. Tim stopped his horse and pointed to the right. + +"Do you see that black shadow over there?" he asked Bertha Brown, who +was nearest him. + +"Yes. From a cloud, isn't it?" Bertha, too, stopped to look. + +"I think not. It's a bunch of cattle, I reckon. I think I make out the +guards riding round them." + +"What is it, Mr. Tim?" Genevieve and the other girls had caught up with +them now. + +"Cattle--over there. See?" explained Mr. Tim, briefly. + +At that moment the moon came out unusually clear. + +"I can see two men on horseback, passing each other," cried Bertha. + +Mr. Tim nodded. + +"Yes--the guard. They ride around the bunch in opposite ways, you know." + +"Let's go nearer! I want to see," proposed Tilly, trying to quiet the +restless movements of her pony. + +[Illustration: "'FOLLOW ME--QUICK!' HE ORDERED"] + +The man shook his head. + +"I reckon not, Miss Tilly. A stampede ain't what I'm looking for to +amuse you all to-night." + +"What's a stampede?" asked Tilly. + +"Mr. Tim, look--quick!" Genevieve's voice was urgent, a little +frightened. But the man had not needed that. With a sharp word behind +his teeth, he spurred his horse. + +"Follow me--quick!" he ordered. And with a frightened cry they obeyed. + +Genevieve obeyed, too--but she looked back over her shoulder. + +The moon was very bright now. The black shadow to the right had become a +wedge-shaped, compact, seething mass, sweeping rapidly toward them. +There was a rushing swish in the air, and the sound of hoarse shouts. A +few moments later the maddened beasts swept across their path, well to +the rear. + +"I'll answer your question, now, Miss Tilly," said Mr. Tim, as they +reined in their horses and looked backward at the shadowy mass. "That +was a stampede." + +"But what will they do with them?" chattered Cordelia, with white lips. +"How can they ever stop them?" + +"Oh, they'll head them off--get them to running in a circle, probably, +till they can quiet them and make them lie down again." + +"And will they be all right--then?" shivered Elsie. + +"Hm-m; yes," nodded Mr. Tim, "--till the next thing sets them going. +Then they'll be again on their feet, every last one of them--heads and +tails erect. Oh, they're a pretty sight then--they are!" + +"They must be," remarked Tilly. "Still--well, I sha'n't ask you again +what a stampede is--not to-night." + +Mr. Tim laughed. + +"Well, Miss Tilly, 'tain't likely I could show you one if you did. I +don't always keep 'em so handy! And now I reckon we'd better hit the +trail for the Six Star, and be right lively about it, too," he added, +"or we'll be having Mis' Kennedy out here herself on a broncho after +ye!" + +Half an hour later a white-faced, teary-eyed little woman at the Six +Star Ranch was trying to get her joyful arms around six girls at once. + +It was the next morning, and just before Mr. Tim's predicted storm +broke, that the girls found the injured man almost hidden in the tall +grass near the ranch house. They had gone out for a short ride, but had +kept near shelter owing to the threatening sky. Tilly saw the man first. + +"Genevieve, there's a man down there," she cried softly. "He's hurt, I +think." + +Genevieve was off her horse at once. The man was found to be breathing, +but apparently unconscious. He lay twisted in a little huddled heap, +with one of his legs bent under him. He groaned faintly when Genevieve +spoke to him. + +Genevieve was a little white when she straightened up. + +"I think we'll have to get a wagon, or something, and two of the boys," +she said. "I'll ride back to the house if some of you girls will stay +here." + +"We'll all stay," promised Cordelia; "only be quick," she added, +slipping from her pony's back, and giving the reins to Bertha. "Maybe if +I could hold his poor head he'd be more comfortable." + +Cautiously she sat down on the ground and lifted the man's head to her +lap. He groaned again faintly, and opened his eyes. They were large and +dark. For a moment there was only pain in their depths; then, gradually, +there came a look of profound amazement. + +"Where am I?" he asked feebly. + +"Sh! Don't talk. You are on the prairie. You must have got hurt, some +way." + +He tried to move, and groaned again. + +"Please be still," begged Cordelia. "You'll make things worse. We've +sent for help, and they'll be here right away." + +The man closed his eyes now. He did not speak again. + +It seemed a long time, but it was really a very short one, before +Genevieve came with Carlos and Pedro and one of the ranch wagons. The +man groaned again, and grew frightfully white when they lifted him +carefully into the wagon. Then he fainted. He was still unconscious when +they reached the ranch house. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A MAN AND A MYSTERY + + +August came. The first few days of the month were particularly busy ones +as some of the boys were off to a round-up on the fifth, and Mr. Hartley +was going with them for a week. To the girls the big four-horse wagon +for the food and bedding--the "wheeled house" that was to be home for +the boys--was always an object of great interest. Then there was the +excitement of the start on the day itself, which this time was made +particularly momentous by the going of Mr. Hartley. + +The ranch house seemed very lonely without its genial, generous-hearted +owner, and everybody was glad that he had promised to come back in a +week. Meanwhile, of course, there was "the man." + +The man was he who had been found by the girls in the prairie grass. He +was still almost as much of a mystery as ever. Mr. Hartley had insisted +upon his staying--and, indeed (though no bones were broken), he was +quite too badly injured to be moved for a time. He was able now to sit +in the big comfortable chairs on the back gallery; and he spent hours +there every day, sometimes reading, more often sitting motionless, with +his dark eyes closed, and his hands resting on his crutches by his side. + +He had not seemed to care to talk of himself. He had merely said that +his horse had thrown him, and that he had lain in the grass for some +time before he was found. He was quiet, had good manners, and used good +language. He said that his name was John Edwards. He seemed deeply +grateful for all kindness shown him, but was plainly anxious to be well +enough to be on his way again. Mr. Hartley, however, had won his promise +to remain till he himself returned from the round-up. + +All the young people did their best to make the injured man's time pass +as pleasantly as possible; and very often one or another of them might +be found reading to him, or playing a game of checkers or chess with +him. + +It was on such an occasion that Cordelia Wilson, at the conclusion of a +game of checkers, found the courage to say something that had long been +on her mind. + +"Mr. Edwards, do--do you know Texas very well?" + +The man smiled a little. + +"Well, Miss Cordelia, Texas is rather large, you know." + +Cordelia sighed almost impatiently. + +"Dear me! I--I wish every one wouldn't always say that," she lamented. +"It's so discouraging!" + +"Dis--couraging?" + +"Yes--when you're trying to find some one." + +"Oh! And are you trying to find some one?" + +"Yes, sir; four some ones." + +"Well, I should think that might be difficult--in Texas, unless you know +where they are," smiled the man. + +"I don't; and that's what's the matter," sighed Cordelia. "That's why I +was going to ask you, to see if you didn't know, perhaps." + +"Ask _me_?" + +"Yes. That is, if you had been around any--in Texas. You see I ask +everybody, almost. I have to," she apologized a little wistfully. "And +even then it looks as if I should have to go back to Sunbridge without +finding one of them. And I'd so hate to do that!" + +The man started visibly. + +"Go back--where?" + +"To Sunbridge." + +"Sunbridge--?" + +"Sunbridge, New Hampshire; home, you know." + +An odd expression crossed the man's face. + +"No--I didn't know," he said, after a moment. + +"Why, didn't any of us ever tell you we were from the East?" cried +Cordelia. + +"Oh, yes, lots of times. But you never happened to mention the town +before, I think." + +"Why, how funny!" murmured Cordelia. + +The man did not speak. He seemed to have fallen into a reverie. Cordelia +stirred restlessly in her seat. + +"Did you say you would help me?" she asked at last, timidly. + +"Help you?" The man seemed to have forgotten what she had been speaking +of. + +"Help me to find them, you know--those people I'm looking for." + +"Why, of course," laughed the man, easily. "Who are--" He stopped +abruptly. For the second time an odd expression crossed his face. "Are +they--Sunbridge people?" he asked, stooping to pick up a dried leaf from +the gallery floor. + +"Yes, Mr. Edwards. There are four of them--three men and one woman. They +are John Sanborn, Lester Goodwin, James Hunt, and Mrs. Lizzie Higgins. +Maybe you know some of them. Do you?" + +"Well, Miss Cordelia,"--the man stopped a minute, as he reached for a +leaf still farther away--"is that quite to be expected?" he asked then, +lightly. + +"No, I suppose not," she sighed; "for, of course, Texas _is_ big. But if +you would please just put their names down on paper same as the others +have, that would help a great deal." + +"Why, certainly," agreed the man, reaching into his pocket and bringing +out a little notebook not unlike the minister's. "Now suppose you--you +give me those names again, Miss Cordelia." + +"John Sanborn, Lester Goodwin, James Hunt, and Mrs. Lizzie Higgins. And +I am Cordelia Wilson, you know. Just 'Sunbridge, New Hampshire,' would +reach me--if you found any of them." + +"I'll remember--if I find any of them," murmured the man, as he wrote +the last name. + +"And thank you so much!" beamed Cordelia. + +There was a moment's silence. The man was playing with his pencil. + +"Did you say you were _asked_ to find these people?" he inquired at +last, examining the lead of his pencil intently. + +"Oh, yes, sir." + +"Indeed! And may I inquire who asked you?" + +"Why, of course! The people who belong to them--who are so anxious for +them to come back, you know." + +"Oh, then they want them?" The man was still examining the point of his +pencil. + +"Indeed they do, Mr. Edwards," cried Cordelia, glad to find her new +audience so interested. "Mrs. Lizzie Higgins eloped years ago, and her +mother, Mrs. Snow, is terribly worried. She's never heard a word from +her. Mrs. Granger is a widow, and very poor. Her husband died last year. +She hasn't any one left but her cousin, Lester Goodwin, now, and she so +wishes she could find him. Lester's had some money left him, but if he +isn't found this year, it'll go to some one else." + +"Oh!" The man gave a short little laugh that sounded not quite pleasant, +as he lifted his head suddenly. "I begin to see. Mrs. Granger thinks if +she had Lester, and Lester had the money, why she'd get the money, too, +eh?" + +"Oh, no, sir--not exactly," objected Cordelia. "You see, if he _isn't_ +found the money goes to _her_, so she thinks she ought to make a special +effort to find him. She says she wouldn't sleep a wink if she took all +that money _without_ trying to find him; so she asked me. Of course the +lawyers are hunting, anyway." + +"Oh-h!" said the man again; but this time he did not laugh. "Hm-m; +well--are there any fortunes left the other two?" he asked, after a +moment's silence. He had gone back to his pencil point. + +"Oh, no, sir," laughed Cordelia, a little ruefully. "I'm afraid they +won't think so. _They're_ wanted to _help_ folks." + +"To help folks!" + +"Yes, sir. You see John Sanborn's father is very poor, and he lives all +alone in a little bit of a house in the woods. He's called 'Hermit +Joe.'" + +"Yes--go on," bade the man, as Cordelia stopped for breath. The man's +voice was husky--perhaps because he had stooped to pick up another dried +leaf. + +"There isn't much more about him, only he's terribly lonesome and wants +his boy, he says. You see, the boy ran away years and years ago. I don't +think that was very nice of him. Do you?" + +There was no answer. The man sat now with his hand over his eyes. +Cordelia wondered if perhaps she had tired him. + +"And that's all," she said hurriedly; "only Sally Hunt's brother, James. +If he isn't found she'll have to go to the Poor Farm, I'm afraid." + +"What?" + +Cordelia started nervously. The man had turned upon her so sharply that +his crutches fell to the floor with a crash. + +"Oh, sir, I beg your pardon," she apologized, springing to her feet. +"I'm so afraid you were asleep, and I startled you. I--I will go now. +And--and thank you ever so much for writing down those names!" + +The man shook his head decidedly. + +"Don't go," he begged. "You have not tired me, and I like to hear you +talk. Now sit down, please, and tell me all about these people--this +James Hunt's sister, and all the rest." + +"Oh, do you really want to know about them?" cried Cordelia, joyfully. +"Then I will tell you; for maybe it would help you find them, you know." + +"Yes, maybe it would," agreed the man, in a curiously vibrant voice, as +Cordelia seated herself again at his side. "Now talk." + +And Cordelia talked. She talked not only then, but several times after +that, and she talked always of Sunbridge. Mr. Edwards seemed so +interested in everything and everybody there, though specially, of +course, in the relatives of the four lost people she was trying to +find--which was natural, certainly, thought Cordelia, inasmuch as he, +too, was going to search for them in the weeks to come. + +Mr. Edwards improved in health very rapidly these days. He discarded his +crutches, and seemed feverishly anxious to test his strength on every +occasion. Upon Mr. Hartley's return from the round-up, the injured man +insisted that he was quite well enough to go away; and, in spite of the +kind ranchman's protests, he did go the next day after Mr. Hartley's +return. Carlos drove him to Bolo, and the Happy Hexagons stood on the +ranch-house steps and gave him their Texas yell as a send-off, +substituting a lusty "MR. EDWARDS" for Genevieve's name at the end. + +"That is the most convenient yell," chuckled Tilly, as the ranch wagon +with Carlos and Mr. Edwards drove away. "It'll do for anything and +anybody. And didn't Mr. Edwards like it!" + +"Of course he did! He couldn't help it," cried Genevieve. + +"I think Mr. Edwards is a very nice man," observed Cordelia, with +emphasis, "and I wish he could have stayed for the party." + +"Why, of course he's a nice man," chimed in the other girls, eyeing her +earnest face a little curiously. + +"Who said he wasn't?" laughed Tilly. "My! but it is hot, isn't it?" she +added, dropping into one of the big wicker chairs near her. + +"Oh, of course we have to have some warm weather," bridled Genevieve, +"else you'd be homesick for New Hampshire!" + +"The mean annual temperature of the country near--" began Tilly, +mischievously; but Genevieve put her hands to her ears and fled. + + * * * * * + +The fourteenth of August was to be a gala occasion at the Six Star +Ranch, for there was to be a supper and dance to entertain the friends +from the East. + +"But where'll you get your guests?" demanded Tilly, when she first heard +of the plan. "Whom can you have, 'way off here like this?--all will +please take notice that I said '_whom_'!" + +Genevieve laughed and tossed her head a little. + +"Well, we'll have the boys here on the ranch, of course, and Susie +Billings, and some of the other Bolo girls. We can't have Quentina, of +course--Poor thing! Isn't it a shame about that whooping cough?--and +Ned's got it, too, now, you know!--but I think the Boyntons will come. +Their ranch is only thirty-five miles away, and they could stay all +night, of course." + +"Only thirty-five miles away," repeated Tilly, airily. "Of course +nobody'd mind a little thing like that, for a party!" + +"No, they wouldn't--in Texas," retorted Genevieve. "There's the +Wetherbys, too. They live five miles out from Bolo on the other side. +Maybe they'll come. We'll ask them, anyhow. Oh, we'll have a +party--never you fear!" + +When the night of the fourteenth arrived, things looked, indeed, very +like "a party." Everywhere were confusion and excitement, even to the +saddle room and blacksmith's shop, and to the two big tents that were +being put up for extra sleeping quarters. Everywhere, too (Mrs. Kennedy +declared), were dishes heaped with chocolate candies. Mr. Edwards, who +had left the ranch only the day before, had sent back by Carlos +twenty-five pounds of the best candy Bolo could supply; and the girls +had been lavish in its disposal. + +Five Wetherbys and six Boyntons had arrived together with a dozen +cowboys on horseback. Susie Billings, minus her khaki and cartridges, +looked the picture of demureness in white muslin and baby-blue ribbons. +There were other pretty girls, too, from Bolo, in white, and in pale +pink and yellow. And everywhere were the Happy Hexagons, wildly excited, +and delighted with it all. + +The big hall and the living-room had been cleared for dancing. The +galleries and the long covered way leading to the dining room had been +decorated with flowers and lanterns. The long table in the dining-room +was decorated, too, and would later be loaded with all sorts of good +things: sandwiches, hot biscuits, tamales, cakes, and black coffee +without sugar. In the center of the table already there was a huge round +white something that called forth delighted clappings from the Happy +Hexagons as they flocked in at seven o'clock to look at the table +decorations. + +"Oh, what a lovely cake," gurgled Tilly, "and such a big one!" + +Genevieve laughed mischievously. + +"I'll give you the whole cake--if you'll cut it," she proposed. + +With manifest alacrity Tilly reached for a knife. + +"Done!" she cried. + +Before the knife descended, Genevieve caught her hand. + +"Wait! Look here," she parleyed. Taking the knife, she thrust its point +through the elaborate white frosting, with two or three gentle taps. + +"Why, it's hard!--hard as stone," ejaculated Tilly, trying for herself. + +"It _is_ stone," laughed Genevieve. + +"Stone!" cried a chorus of unbelieving voices. + +"Yes, stone--frosted with sugar and the whites of eggs. Oh, if you'd +lived in Texas as long as I have you'd have seen them before," nodded +Genevieve. + +"Well, I've got my opinion of Texas cakes, then," pouted Tilly, with +saucy impertinence. + +"Oh, you'll change it later, I reckon--when you see the real ones," +rejoined Genevieve, comfortably, as they left the dining-room. + +There never had been, surely, such a party. All the Happy Hexagons +agreed to that. So, too, did all the guests. Perhaps on no one's face +was there a look of anxious care except on Cordelia's. Possibly Mr. +Hartley noticed this look. At all events he watched Cordelia rather +closely, as the evening advanced, particularly after he chanced to +overhear some of her remarks to his guests. Then he sought his daughter. + +"Dearie," he began in a low voice, leading her a little to one side, +"what in the world ails that little Miss Cordelia?" + +"Ails her! What do you mean? Is she sick?" + +"No, I don't think so; but she looks as if she'd got the weight of the +whole outfit on her shoulders, and she seems to be going 'round asking +everybody if they knew John somebody, or Lizzie somebody else." + +Genevieve laughed merrily; but almost at once she frowned and shook her +head. + +"No, I don't know, Father, what is the matter. But Cordelia is capable +of--anything, if once her conscience is stirred. Why don't you ask her +yourself?" + +"I believe I will, dearie," he asserted at last. + +Five minutes later he chanced to find Cordelia without a partner. + +"Miss Cordelia, will you accept an old man for this dance?" he asked +genially. "And shall we sit it out, perhaps?" + +"Oh, thank you! I'd love to," cried Cordelia in a relieved voice. "And I +shall be so glad to rest!" + +"Tired--dancing?" he asked. + +"Oh, no, not dancing; that is--well--" She stopped, and colored +painfully. + +Mr. Hartley waited a moment, then observed with a smile: + +"You seem to be looking for some one to-night, Miss Cordelia. Didn't I +hear you asking Mr. Boynton and Joe Wetherby if they knew John somebody +or other?" + +Again a pink flush spread over Cordelia's face, "Yes, sir; I am looking +for somebody--four somebodies." + +"You don't say! Found them yet?" + +She shook her head. To the man's surprise and distress, her eyes filled +with tears. + +"No, Mr. Hartley, and that's what's the trouble. That's why I'm trying +so hard to-night to ask all these people--there's such a little time +left!" + +"Time--left?" + +"Yes. I'd like to tell you about it, please. I think I may tell you. Of +course I haven't said a word to the girls, because the people--back in +Sunbridge--didn't want me to talk about it. I'm looking for John +Sanborn, Lester Goodwin, James Hunt, and Mrs. Lizzie Higgins. They're +all Sunbridge people who came to Texas years ago, and are lost." + +Mr. Hartley gave a sudden exclamation. + +"Did you say--Lester Goodwin was one?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Who wants him, and what for?" + +Patiently Cordelia told him. She wore a hopeless air. She had ceased, +evidently, to expect anything that was good. + +Mr. Hartley gave a low whistle. For a moment he was silent, then he +chuckled unexpectedly. + +"Well, Miss Cordelia, if you hadn't looked so far away for your pony you +might have seen his tracks nearer home, perhaps. As it happens, Lester +Goodwin is right here on the ranch." + +"Here? Lester Goodwin?" gasped Cordelia. + +"Yes. Oh, he isn't known by that name--he preferred not to be. He came +to me fourteen years ago, and he's been here ever since. He said he +wanted to be a cowboy; that he'd always wanted to be one ever since +when, as a little boy, he used to rope his rocking-horse with his +mother's clothes-line. His uncle had wanted him to be a teacher, but he +hated the sight of books; so when his uncle died, he ran away and came +here. He said there wasn't anybody to care where he was, or what he did; +so I let him stay." + +"And to think he's here now!" + +"He certainly is. You see he came here because he knew me once a little +when I was in Sunbridge visiting relatives, years ago, and he knew I had +become a ranchman in Texas. He begged so hard that I should keep his +secret that I've always kept it. Besides, there was nothing to keep. +Nobody ever asked me, or suspected he was here." + +"Why, how strange!" breathed Cordelia, with shining eyes. "And only +think how I've asked everybody but you--and now I've found one of them +right here!" + +"Yes--though we mustn't be too sure, of course. We'll tell him; but +maybe he won't want to go back, even now. I reckon, however, that when +he hears of the money, Reddy won't mind his real name being known." + +"Reddy!" cried Cordelia. + +"Oh!--I didn't tell you, did I?" smiled Mr. Hartley. "Yes, Reddy is +Lester Goodwin." + +"Why, Mr. Hartley! And I never thought of such a thing as asking _him_! +I only looked for the cowboys who were called 'John' or 'James' or +'Lester'--and there weren't many of those. And so it's Reddy--why, I +just can't believe it's true!" + +"I reckon Reddy can't, either," laughed Mr. Hartley. "And now we'll let +you go back to your dancing, my dear. I've already encountered at least +four pairs of glowering eyes unpleasantly pointed in my direction. I'll +go and find Reddy--or rather, Mr. Lester Goodwin," he finished +impressively, as he rose to his feet. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE ALAMO + + +Two days after the party at the ranch house, Mr. Hartley made a +wonderful announcement at the dinner table. + +"What do you say, young ladies, to a visit to San Antonio?" he began. + +"Father, could we? Do you mean we can?" cried Genevieve. + +"Yes, dear, that's just what I mean. It so happens I've got business +there, so I'm going to take you home 'round by that way. We'll have +maybe a couple of days there, and we'll see something of the surrounding +country, besides. You know Texas is quite a state--and you've seen +mighty little of it, as yet." + +"Oh, girls, we'll see the Alamo!" cried Genevieve. "Did you realize +that?" + +"Will we, truly?" chorused several rapturous voices. + +"Yes." + +"And what do you know about the Alamo, young ladies?" smiled Mr. +Hartley. + +"We know everything," answered Tilly, cheerfully. "Mr. Jones's +daughter, you know, was our Latin teacher, and she had the History +class, too. Well, we couldn't even _think_ Bunker Hill but what she'd +pipe up about the Alamo. Now I think Bunker Hill is pretty good!" + +"Oh, but we want to see the Alamo, just the same," interposed Bertha, +anxiously. + +"Of course!" cried five emphatic girlish voices. + +"All right," laughed Mr. Hartley. "You shall see it, all of you--if the +train will take us there; and you'll see--well, you'll see a lot of +other things, too." + +Cordelia stirred uneasily. The old anxious look came back to her eyes. +When dinner was over she stole to Mr. Hartley's side. + +"Mr. Hartley, please, shall we see an oil well?" she asked, in a low +voice. + +"Bless you, little lady, what do you know about oil wells?" smiled the +man, good-naturedly. "You haven't got any of those to look up, have +you?" + +To his dumbfounded amazement, she answered simply: + +"Yes, sir--one." + +"Well, I'll be--well, just what is this proposition?" he broke off +whimsically. + +"If you'll wait--just a minute--I'll get the paper," panted Cordelia. +"Mr. Hodges wrote down the name." + +Very soon she had returned with the paper, and Mr. Hartley saw the name. +His face hardened, yet his eyes were curiously tender. + +"I'm afraid, little girl, that this won't come out quite so well as the +Reddy affair--by the way, Reddy left an extra good-by for you this +morning. He went away before you were up, you know. He feels pretty +grateful to you, Miss Cordelia." + +"But I didn't do anything, Mr. Hartley. I do wish I could see Mrs. +Granger when he gets there, though. I--I'm afraid she doesn't like +cowboys much better than Mrs. Miller does." + +There was a moment's silence. Mr. Hartley was scowling at the bit of +paper in his hand. + +"Did you say you _didn't_ know where that oil well was, Mr. Hartley?" +asked Cordelia, timidly. + +"Yes. I don't know where it is--and I reckon there doesn't anybody else +know, either," he answered slowly. "I know where it _claims_ to be, and +I know it is just one big swindle from beginning to end." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," sighed the girl. + +"So am I, my dear. I'm sorry for Mr. Hodges, and lots of others that I +know lost money in the same thing. But it can't be helped now." + +"Then there aren't any oil wells here at all in Texas?" asked Cordelia, +tearfully. + +"Bless you, yes, child--heaps of them! You'll see them, too, probably, +before you leave the state. But--you won't see this one." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," mourned Cordelia, again, as sadly she took the bit +of paper back to her room. + + * * * * * + +It was not many days before the Happy Hexagons said good-by to the +ranch--a most reluctant good-by. It was a question, however, which felt +the worst: Mammy Lindy, weeping on the gallery steps, Mr. Tim and the +boys, waving a noisy good-by from their saddles, or Mrs. Kennedy and the +Happy Hexagons--the latter tearfully giving their Texas yell with "THE +RANCH" for the final word to-day. + +"I think I never had such a good time in all my life," breathed +Cordelia. + +"I know I never did," choked Tilly. "Genevieve, we can't ever begin to +thank you for it all!" + +"I--I don't want you to," wailed Genevieve, dabbing her eyes with her +handkerchief. "I reckon you haven't had any better time than I have!" + +Quentina was at the Bolo station; so, too, was Susie Billings. + +"O Happy Hexagons, Happy Hexagons, I just had to come," chanted +Quentina, standing some distance away, and extending two restraining +hands, palms outward. "Don't kiss me--don't come near me! I don't think +I've got any whooping germs about me, but we want to be on the safe +side." + +"But, Quentina, how are you? How are all of you?" cried Genevieve, +plainly distressed. "I think it's just horrid--staying off at arm's +length like this!" + +"But you must, dear," almost sobbed Quentina. "I wouldn't have you go +through what we are going through with at home for anything. Such a +whoop--whoop--whooping time!" + +"Couldn't you make a poem on it?" bantered Tilly. "I should think +'twould make a splendid subject--you could use such sonorous, resounding +words." + +Quentina shook her head dismally. + +"I couldn't. I tried it once or twice; but all I could think of was +'Hark, from the tombs a doleful sound'; then somebody would cough, and I +just couldn't get any further." Her voice was tragic in spite of its +drawl. + +"You poor thing," sympathized Genevieve. "But we--we're glad to _see_ +you, even for this little, and even if we can't _feel_ you! But, +Quentina, you'll write--sure?" + +"Yes, I'll write," nodded Quentina, backing sorrowfully away. "Good-by, +Happy Hexagons, good-by!" + +"So that is your Quentina?" said Mr. Hartley in a low voice, as the +girls were waving their hands and handkerchiefs. "Well, she _is_ +pretty." + +"Oh, but she wasn't half so pretty to-day," regretted Genevieve. "She +looked so thin and tired. I wanted to introduce you, Father, but I +didn't know how to--so far away." + +"I should say not," laughed Mr. Hartley. "'Twould have been worse than +your high handshake back East," he added, as he turned to speak to Susie +Billings, who had come up at that moment. + +Susie Billings was in her khaki suit and cowboy hat to-day, with the +cartridge belt and holster; so, as it happened, the last glimpse the +girls had of Bolo station was made picturesque by a vision of +"Cordelia's cowboy" (as Tilly always called Susie) waving her +broad-brimmed hat. + + * * * * * + +The trip to San Antonio was practically uneventful, though it was +certainly one long delight to the Happy Hexagons, who never wearied of +talking about the sights and sounds of the wonderful country through +which they were passing. + +"Well, this isn't much like Bolo; is it?" cried Tilly, when at last they +found themselves in the handsome railroad station of the city itself. "I +shouldn't think Texas would know its own self half the time--it's so +different from itself all the time!" + +[Illustration: "'THERE, NOW--LOOK!' SHE ADDED"] + +"That's all right, Tilly, and I think I know what you mean," laughed +Genevieve; "but I wouldn't advise you to give that sentence to Miss Hart +as your best example of logic." + +"Well, I was talking about Texas," retorted Tilly, saucily, "and there +isn't anything logical about Texas, that I can see. There, now--look!" +she added, as they reached the street. "Just tell me if there's anything +logical in that scene!" she finished, with a wave of her hand toward the +passing throng. + +Genevieve laughed, but her eyes, too, widened a little as she stepped +one side with the others, for a moment, to watch the curious +conglomeration of humanity and vehicles before them. + +In the street a luxurious limousine was tooting for a ramshackle prairie +schooner to turn to one side. Behind the automobile plodded a forlorn +mule dragging a wagon-load of empty boxes. Behind that came an army +ambulance followed by an electric truck. A handsome soldier on a restive +bay mare came next, and behind him a huge touring car with a pompous +black chauffeur. On either side of the touring car rode a grinning boy +on a mustang, plainly to the discomfort of the pompous negro and the +delight of two pretty girls in white who were in the low phaeton that +followed. A bicycle bell jangled sharply for a swarthy Mexican in a tall +peaked hat to get out of the way, and farther down the street two +solid-looking men in business suits were waiting for a pretty Mexican +woman with a rebosa-draped head to precede them into a car. Behind them +a huge negro woman wearing a red bandana about her head, waited her +turn. And still behind her a severe-faced young woman in a tailored suit +was drawing her skirts away from two almost naked pickaninnies. + +"Well, no; perhaps it isn't really logical," laughed Genevieve. "But +it's awfully interesting!" + +"I chose one of the older hotels," said Mr. Hartley, a little later, as +he piloted his party through the doorway of a fine old building. + +"You couldn't have chosen a lovelier one, I'm sure, Father," declared +Genevieve, as she looked about her with shining eyes. + +Genevieve was even more convinced of this when, just before dinner, in +response to a summons from Tilly's voice she stepped out on to the +little balcony leading from her room. The balcony overlooked an inner +court, and was hung with riotous moon-vines. Down in the court a silvery +fountain played among palms and banana trees. Here and there a cactus +plant thrust spiny arms into the air. Somewhere else queen's wreath and +devil's ivy made a tiny bower of loveliness. While everywhere were +electric lights and roses, matching one against the other their +brilliant hues. + +"Genevieve, I--I think I'm going to c-cry," wailed Tilly's sobbing +voice from the adjoining balcony. + +"Cry!--when it's all so lovely!" exclaimed Genevieve. + +Tilly nodded. + +"Yes. That's why I want to," she quavered. "Honestly, Genevieve, if I +stay here long I shall be writing poetry like Quentina--I know I shall!" + +"If you do, just let me read it, that's all," retorted Genevieve, +saucily. "Where's Cordelia?" + +"Off somewhere with Elsie and Bertha. She got dressed early--but I +sha'n't get dressed at all if I don't go about it." + +At that moment there was the sound of a scream, then the patter of +running feet in the court below. + +"Why, there they are now," cried Genevieve, leaning over the railing. +"Girls, girls!" she called, regardless of others in the court. "Look up +here! What's the matter?" + +The girls stopped, and looked up. Cordelia, only, cast an apprehensive +glance over her shoulder. + +"It's an alligator in the fountain in the other court," explained Elsie. +"Bertha said she heard there was one there, and so we went to see--and +we found out." + +"I should say we did," shuddered Cordelia, still with her head turned +backward. "I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night--I know I sha'n't!" + +"An alligator--really?" cried Tilly. "Then I'm going to hurry and get +ready so I can see him before dinner," she finished, as she whisked into +her room. + +Dinner that night, in the brilliantly lighted, flower-decked dining-room +was an experience never to be forgotten by the girls. + +"I didn't suppose there were such bea-_u_-tiful dresses in the world," +sighed Elsie, looking about her. + +Mr. Hartley smiled. + +"I reckon you'd think so, Miss Elsie," he said, "if you could see the +place when it's in full swing. It's too early yet for the real tourist +season, I imagine. Anyhow, there aren't so many people here as I've +always seen before." + +"Well, I shouldn't ask it to be any nicer, anyway," declared Bertha; and +the rest certainly agreed with her. + +Bright and early the next morning the Happy Hexagons and Mr. Hartley +started out sight-seeing. Mrs. Kennedy was too tired to go, she said. + +"I'll let business slip for an hour or two," Mr. Hartley remarked as +they left the hotel; "at all events, until I get you young people +started." + +"Hm-m; you mean, to--the Alamo?" hinted Genevieve, with merry eyes. + +"Sure, dearie! The Alamo it shall be," smiled her father. "Then +to-morrow I'll take you to Fort Sam Houston where there are _live_ +soldiers." + +"Oh, is there an army post here, truly?" cried Tilly. + +"Only the largest in the country," answered the Texan, proudly. + +"Really? Oh, how splendid! I just love soldiers!" + +"Really?" mimicked Mr. Hartley, mischievously. "They'll be pleased to +know it, I'm sure, Miss Tilly." + +The others laughed. Tilly blushed and shrugged her shoulders; but she +asked no more questions about Fort Sam Houston for at least five +minutes. + +"Now where's the place--the really, truly place?" demanded Cordelia, in +an awed voice, when the party had reached the Alamo Plaza. + +"The place--the real place, Miss Cordelia," replied Mr. Hartley, "where +the fight occurred, was in a court over there; and the walls were pulled +down years ago. But this little chapel was part of it, and this is what +everybody always looks at and talks about. The relics are inside. We'll +go in and see them, if you like." + +"If we like!" cried Genevieve, fervently. "Just as if we didn't want to +see everything--every single thing there is to see!" she finished, as +her father led the way into the dim interior under the watchful eyes of +the caretaker. + +Even Tilly, for a moment, was silenced in the hush and somberness of +the place. Genevieve stole to her father's side. Mr. Hartley, with bared +head, was wearing a look of grave reverence. + +"You appreciate it, don't you, Father?" she said softly. "You have +always talked such a lot about it." + +He nodded. + +"I don't see how any one can help appreciating it," he rejoined, after a +moment, looking up at the narrow, iron-barred windows. "Why, Genevieve, +this is our Bunker Hill, you know." + +"I know," she said soberly. "How many was it? I've forgotten." + +"About one hundred and eighty on the inside--here; and all the way from +two to six thousand on the outside--accounts differ. But it was +thousands, anyway, against one hundred and eighty--and it lasted ten +days or more." + +Genevieve shuddered. + +"And they all--died?" + +"Every one--of the soldiers. There was a woman and a young child and a +negro servant left to tell the tale." + +"That's what it means on the monument, isn't it?" murmured Genevieve. +"'Thermopylae had its messenger of defeat: the Alamo had none.'" + +"Yes," said her father. "I've always wondered what Davy Crockett would +have said to that. You know he was here." + +"Wasn't he the one who said, 'Be sure you are right, then go ahead'?" + +"Yes. And he went ahead--straight to his death, here." + +Genevieve's eyes brimmed with tears. + +"Oh, it does make one want to be good and brave and true, doesn't it, +Father?" + +"I reckon it ought to, little girl," he smiled gently. + +"It does," breathed Genevieve. A moment later she crossed to Tilly's +side. + +Tilly welcomed her with subdued joyousness. + +"Genevieve, please, _please_ mayn't we get out of this?" she begged. +"Honestly, I feel as if I were besieged myself in this horrid tomb-like +place. And--and I like live soldiers so much better!" + +Genevieve gave her a reproachful glance, but in a moment she suggested +that perhaps they had better go. + +"Oh, but that was lovely," she sighed, as they came out into the bright +sunshine. "The caretaker told me they call it the 'Cradle of Liberty,' +here; and I don't wonder." + +Tilly uptilted her chin--already the sunshine had brought back her usual +gayety of spirits. + +"Dear me! what a lot of cradles Liberty must have had! You know Faneuil +Hall in Boston is _one_. Only think how far the poor thing must have +traveled between naps if she tried to sleep in all her cradles!" + +Even Genevieve laughed--but she sighed reproachfully, too. + +"Oh, Tilly, how you can turn poetry into prose--sometimes!" Then she +added wistfully: "How I wish I could see this Plaza on San Jacinto Day!" + +"What is that?" demanded Tilly. + +"The twenty-third of April. They have the Battle of the Flowers in the +Plaza here, in front of the Alamo. I've always wanted to see that." + +"Hm-m; well, I might not mind that kind of a battle myself," laughed +Tilly. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +TILLY CROSSES BRIDGES + + +In the afternoon the young people again started out to explore the town. +This time Mr. Hartley was not with them. + +"But are you quite sure you won't get lost?" Mrs. Kennedy demurred +anxiously, as Genevieve was putting on her hat. + +"No, ma'am," returned Genevieve, with calm truthfulness and a merry +smile. "But, dearie, it's daylight and there are six of us. What if we +do get lost? We've got tongues in our heads, and we know the name of our +hotel and of the street it's on." + +"Very well," sighed Mrs. Kennedy. Then, with sudden spirit she added: +"Dear me, Genevieve! I shall be glad if ever we get back to Sunbridge +and I have you to myself all quiet again. I'm afraid you'll never, never +settle down to just plain living after these irresponsible weeks of one +long playday." + +It was Genevieve's turn now to sigh. + +"I know, Aunt Julia. It will be hard, won't it?" she admitted. Then, +with a quick change of manner, she observed airily: "As if anything +could be nicer than learning to cook, and keeping my stockings mended! +Why, Aunt Julia!" The next moment, with a breezy kiss, she was gone. + +It was a delightful afternoon that the girls spent rambling about the +curiously interesting old town, which--Cordelia impressively informed +them--was the third oldest in the United States. They tried to see it +all, but they did not succeed in this, of course. They did stand in +delighted wonder before the San Fernando Cathedral with its square, +cross-tipped towers; and they did wander for an entrancing hour in the +old Mexican Quarter, with its picturesque houses and people, its +fascinating chili and tamale stands, and its narrow, twisting streets, +which Genevieve declared were almost as bad as Boston. + +"Boston!" bridled Tilly, instantly. "Why, Boston's tiniest, crookedest +streets are great wide boulevards compared to these! Besides, when we +are in Boston we don't have to cross a river every time we turn around." + +"I don't know about that," retorted Genevieve, warmly. "Just try to go +over to Cambridge or Charlestown and see. I'm sure I think Boston's got +lots of bridges." + +Tilly sniffed her disdain. + +"Pooh! You're _leaving_ Boston when you cross those bridges, Genevieve +Hartley, and you know it. But just look at them here! We haven't +stirred once out of San Antonio, and I think I've crossed five bridges +in the last seven minutes. I can imagine those old fellows who built +this town getting tired of building houses, and saying: 'And now let's +stop and build a bridge for the fun of it!'" + +Genevieve laughed heartily. + +"You've won, Tilly. I'll give up," she chuckled. "I hadn't meant to tell +you; but there _are_ thirteen miles of river twisting in and out through +the city, and--there _are_ seventeen bridges." + +"Where did you find out all that?" demanded Tilly, suspiciously. + +"In a guidebook that I saw last night at the hotel. It's the same one, I +reckon, that Cordelia's been giving all her information from," said +Genevieve. + +"Hm-m;" commented Tilly. "Now I _know_ I've crossed five bridges in the +last seven minutes!" + +"Well, I wouldn't care if there were forty miles of river and fifty +bridges," retorted Genevieve, "if they'd all have such lovely green +banks and dear little boats!" + +"Nor I," agreed two or three emphatic voices. + +Everywhere and at every turn the girls found something of interest, +something to marvel at. When tired of walking they boarded a car; and +when tired of riding, they got off and walked. + +"Well, anyhow, folks seem to have a choice of houses to live in," +observed Tilly, her eyes on a quaint little white bungalow surrounded by +heuisach and mesquite trees. + +"Yes, they do," laughed Genevieve--Genevieve was looking at the next one +to it: an old-fashioned colonial mansion set far back from the street, +with a huge pecan tree standing guard on each side. + +"Well, seems to me just now a hotel would look the nicest of anything," +moaned Cordelia, wearily. "Girls, I just can't go another step--unless +it's toward home," she finished despairingly. + +"Me, too," declared Tilly. "I'm just plum locoed, I'm that tired! Say we +hit the trail for the hotel right now. Come on; I'm ready!" + +Genevieve laughed, but she eyed Tilly a little curiously. + +"What do you suppose Sunbridge will say to your new expressions a la the +wild and woolly West?" she queried. + +"Just exactly what they said to you, Miss Genevieve," bantered Tilly. + +"Oh, but Genevieve's were _natural_," cut in Bertha, with meaning +emphasis. + +"All the more reason why mine should be more interesting, then," +retorted Tilly, imperturbably. And with a laugh Bertha and Genevieve +gave it up, as with tired but happy faces, they set out for the hotel. + +At breakfast the next morning, Mr. Hartley announced cheerily: + +"We'll do the parks, to-day, and the Hot Sulphur Well and Hotel; and +finish with dress parade at Fort Sam Houston." + +"But--what about your business?" asked Genevieve. + +Mr. Hartley laughed. + +"Oh, that's all--done," he answered; then, as the puzzled questioning +still remained in her eyes, he added, a little shamefacedly: "You see, +there wasn't much business, to tell the truth, dearie. I reckon my real +business was to show off the state of Texas to our young Easterners +here." + +"You darling!" cried Genevieve, rapturously, while all the rest of the +Happy Hexagons stumbled and stuttered over their vain attempts at +thanking him. + +"I declare! I wish we could give him our Texas yell, right here," +chuckled Tilly, turning longing eyes about the dining-room. "We would +end with 'Mr. Hartley,' of course." + +"Tilly!" gasped Cordelia, in open horror. + +"What is the Hot Sulphur Well, Mr. Hartley, please?" asked Elsie, who +had not heard Tilly's remark. + +"You'll have to ask some one who's been cured by it," laughed the man. +"They say there are plenty that have been." + +"Do you suppose it looks any like an oil well?" ventured Cordelia. + +"Sounds a bit hot, seems to me, for to-day," giggled Tilly. "I think I +shall like the parks better." + +"All right; we'll let you do the parks--_all_ of them," cooed Genevieve, +wickedly. "There are only twenty-one, you know, my dear." + +"Genevieve Hartley, if you remember your lessons next year one half as +well as you have that abominable guidebook, you'll be at the head of +your class!" remarked Tilly, severely, as the others rose from the +table, with a laugh. + +It was another long, happy day. The parks, as Tilly had predicted, +proved to be cooler than the Hot Sulphur Well, and they certainly were +more enjoyable, even though only two of Genevieve's announced twenty-one +were visited--Brackenridge Park, and San Pedro Park. It was the former +that Cordelia enjoyed the most, perhaps, for it was there that she saw +her much-longed-for buffalo. Tired, but still enthusiastic, they reached +the hotel in time to dress for the visit to Fort Sam Houston, upon which +Mrs. Kennedy was to accompany them. + +Getting dressed was, however, a grand flurry of excitement, for time and +space were limited; and there was not one of the Happy Hexagons who did +not feel that on this occasion, at least, every curl and ribbon and +shoe-tie must display a neatness that was military in its precision. + +Perhaps only Elsie of all the girls wept over the matter. Her eyes were +red when she knocked at Genevieve's door. + +"Why, Elsie!" + +"Genevieve, I've come to say--I can't go," choked Elsie. + +"Why, Elsie, are you sick?" + +"Oh, no; it's--clothes. Genevieve, I simply haven't anything to wear." + +"Nonsense, dear, of course you have! We don't have to dress much for +this thing. Where's your white linen or your tan or your blue?" + +"The white is too soiled, and the other two have worn places that show." + +"But there's your chambray--that isn't worn." + +Elsie shook her head. + +"But I can't--that, truly, Genevieve. It's got worse and worse every +day, until now _anybody_ can tell Cora and Clara apart!" + +Genevieve choked back a laugh. She was frowning prodigiously when Elsie +looked up. + +"I'll tell you, Elsie, I've got just the thing," she cried. "Wear my +white linen--it's perfectly fresh, and 'twill fit you, I'm sure." + +Elsie's face turned scarlet. + +"Oh, Genevieve! I wouldn't--I couldn't! I'd never, never do such an +awful thing," she gasped. "Why, what _would_ Aunt Kate say?--my wearing +your clothes like that! Oh, I never thought of your taking it that way! +Never mind--I'll fix something," she choked, as she turned and fled down +the hall, leaving a distressed and almost an angry Genevieve behind her. + +For some minutes Genevieve busied herself with her own toilet, jerking +hooks and ribbons into place with unnecessary force; then she turned +despairingly to Mrs. Kennedy, whose room she was sharing. + +"Aunt Julia, what's the use of having anything to give, if folks won't +take it when you give it?" she demanded, irritably. + +"Not having followed your thoughts for the last five minutes, my dear, I +fear I'm unable to give you a very helpful answer," smiled Mrs. Kennedy, +serenely. And Genevieve, remembering Elsie's shamed, red face, decided +suddenly that Elsie's secret was not hers to tell. + +Half an hour later Mr. Hartley marshaled his party for the start. + +"You're a brave sight," he declared, smiling into the bright faces about +him. "You're a mighty brave sight; and I'll leave it to anybody if even +the boys in line to-day will make a finer show!" + +The Happy Hexagons laughed and blushed and courtesied prettily; and only +Genevieve knew that the smile on Elsie's face was a little forced--Elsie +was wearing the green chambray. + +There was an awed "Oh-h!" of wonder and admiration when Mr. Hartley's +party came in sight of the great parade grounds at Fort Sam Houston. +There was a still deeper, longer, louder "Oh-h-h!" when, sitting at one +end of the grounds, the girls heard the first stirring notes of the +band. + +To the Hexagon Club it was a most wonderful sight--those long lines of +men moving with such perfect precision. Fresh from the Alamo as the +girls were, with the story of that dreadful slaughter in their ears--to +them it almost seemed that there before them marched the brave men who +years ago had given up their lives so heroically in the little chapel. + +It was Tilly who broke the silence. + +"Oh, I do just love soldiers," she cried, with a hurried glance sideways +to make sure that Mr. Hartley in the next carriage could not hear her. +"Don't you, Genevieve?" But Genevieve was too absorbed to answer. + +A little later the band played "The Star-spangled Banner," and there +sounded the signal gun for the lowering of the colors. In the glorious +excitement of all this, even Tilly herself forgot to talk. + +After dress parade a certain Major Drew, who knew Mr. Hartley, came up +and was duly presented to the ladies. He in turn presented the officer +of the day, who looked, to the Happy Hexagons, very handsome and +imposing in sword and spurs. After this, at Major Drew's invitation, +there was a visit to the officers' quarters, and on the Major's broad +gallery there was a cooling refreshment of lemonade and root beer before +the drive back to the hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +"BERTHA'S ACCIDENT" + + +It had been decided that the party would go to New Orleans from San +Antonio, and then from there by boat to New York. + +"It'll make a change from car-riding, and a very pleasant one, I'm +thinking," Mr. Hartley had said; and the others had enthusiastically +agreed with him. + +It was on the five-hundred-and-seventy-two mile journey from San Antonio +to New Orleans that something happened. In the Chronicles of the Hexagon +Club it fell to Genevieve to tell the story; and this is what she wrote: + +"It seems so strange to me that we should have traveled so many +thousands of miles on the railroad without anything happening; and then, +just on the last five hundred (we are going to take the boat at New +Orleans)--to have it happen. + +"We have had all sorts of amusing experiences, of course, losing trains, +and missing connections; but nothing like this. Even when we had to take +that little bumpy accommodation for a few hours, and it was so +accommodating it stopped every few minutes 'to water the horses,' as +dear Tilly said, nothing happened--though, to be sure, we almost did get +left that time we all (except Aunt Julia) got off and went to pick +flowers while our train waited for a freight to go by. But we didn't get +quite left, and we did catch it. (Dear Tilly says we could have caught +it, anyway, even if it had started, and that we shouldn't have had to +walk very fast, at that! Tilly does make heaps of fun of all our trains +except the fast ones on the main lines. And I don't know as I wonder, +only I'd never tell her that, of course--that is, I _wouldn't_ have told +her before, perhaps.) + +"Well, where was I? Oh, I know--on the sidetrack. (I had to laugh here, +for it occurred to me that that was just where I was in the story--on a +sidetrack! I'm not telling what I started out to tell at all. It's lucky +we can each take all the room we want, though, in these Chronicles.) + +"Well, I'll tell it now, really, though I'm still so shaky and excited +my hand trembles awfully. It was in the night, a little past twelve +o'clock that it happened. I was lying in my berth above Elsie's, and was +wide-awake. I had been thinking about Father. He has been such a dear +all the way. I was thinking what a big, big dear he was, when IT +happened. + +"Yes, I put IT in capitals on purpose, and I reckon you would, if +suddenly the car you were riding in began to sway horribly and bump up +and down, and then stop right off short with a bang that flung you into +the middle of the aisle! And that's what ours did. + +"For a minute, of course, I was too dazed to know what had happened. But +the next moment I heard a scared voice wail right in my ear: + +"'Girls, it's an accident--I know it's an accident! I told you we should +have an accident--and to think I took off my shoes to-night for the very +first time!' + +"I knew then. It was Bertha, and it was an accident. And, do you know? +I'm ashamed to tell it, but the first thing I did right there and then +was to laugh--it seemed so funny about Bertha's shoes, and to hear her +say her usual 'I told you so!' But the next minute I began to realize +what it all really meant, and I didn't laugh any more. + +"All around me, by that time, were frightened cries and shouts, and I +was so worried for Father and all the rest. I struggled, and tried to +get up; and then I heard Father's voice call: 'Genevieve, Genevieve, +where are you? Are you all right?' Oh, nobody will ever know how good +that dear voice sounded to me! + +"We called for Aunt Julia, then, and for the girls; but it was ever so +long before we could find them. We weren't all together, anyway, and the +crash had separated us more than ever. Besides, everybody everywhere +all over the car was crying out by that time, and trying to find folks, +all in the dark. + +"We found Aunt Julia. She was almost under the berth near me; but she +was so faint and dazed she could not answer when we first called. I was +all right, and so were Cordelia and Bertha, only Bertha bumped her head +pretty hard afterwards, looking for her shoes. Elsie Martin and Alma +Lane were a little bruised and bumped, too; but they declared they could +move all their legs and arms. + +"We hadn't any of us found Tilly up to that time; but when Elsie said +that (about being able to move all her legs and arms), I heard a little +faint voice say 'You talk as if you were a centipede, Elsie Martin!' + +"'Tilly!' I cried then. 'Where are you?' The others called, too, until +we were all shouting frantically for Tilly. We knew it must be Tilly for +nobody but Tilly Mack could have made that speech! + +"At last we found her. She was wedged in under a broken seat almost at +our feet. It was at the forward end of the car--the only part that +seemed to be really smashed. She could not crawl out, and we could not +pull her out. She gave a moaning little cry when Father tried to. + +"'I guess--some of my legs and arms don't go,' she called out to us +with a little sob in her voice. + +"We were crazy then, of course--all of us; and we all talked at once, +and tried to find out just where she was hurt. The trainmen had come by +this time with lanterns, and were helping every one out of the car. Then +they came to us and Tilly. + +"And we were so proud of Tilly--she was so brave and cheery! I never +found out before what her nonsense was for, but I did find it out then. +It was the only thing that kept us all from going just wild. She said +such queer little things when they were trying to get her out, and she +told them if there was any one hurt worse than she to get them out +first. She told Father that she knew now just how Reddy felt when his +broncho went see-saw up in the air, because that was what her berth did. + +"Well, they got the poor dear out at last, and a doctor from the rear +car examined her at once. Her left arm was broken, and she had two or +three painful bruises. Of course that was bad--but not anywhere near so +bad as it might have been, and we were all so relieved. The doctor did +what he could for her, then we all made ourselves as comfortable as +possible while we waited for the relief train. + +"We found out then about the wreck, and the chief thing we could find +out anywhere was what a 'fortunate' wreck it was! The engine and six +cars went off the track on a curve. Just ahead was a steep bank with a +river below it, and of course it _was_ fortunate that we did not go down +that. No one was killed, and only a few much injured. The car ahead and +ours were the only ones that were smashed any. Yes, I suppose it was a +'fortunate wreck'--but I never want to see an unfortunate one. Certainly +we all felt pretty thankful that we had come out of it as well as we +did. + +"The relief train came at last, and took us to the next city, and to-day +we are started on our journey once again. We expect to reach New Orleans +to-night, and take the boat for New York Saturday. We all feel a little +stiff and sore, but of course dear Tilly feels the worst. But she tries +to be just as bright and smiling as ever. She looks pretty white, +though, and what the storybooks call 'wan,' I reckon. She says, anyhow, +she wishes she _were_ a centipede--in _arms_--because perhaps then she +wouldn't miss her left one so much, if she had plenty more of them. +There seems to be such a lot of things she wants her left arm to do. The +doctor says it wasn't a _bad_ break--as if any break could be _good_! + +"And here endeth my record of 'Bertha's accident'--as Tilly insists upon +calling it, until she's made Bertha almost ready to cry over it." + + * * * * * + +Owing to the delay of the accident, Mr. Hartley and his party had only +one day in New Orleans before the boat sailed; but they made the most +of that, for they wanted to see what they could of the quaint, +picturesque city. + +"We'll take carriages, dearie. We won't walk anywhere," said Mr. Hartley +to Genevieve that morning. "In the first place, Mrs. Kennedy and Miss +Tilly couldn't, and the rest of us don't want to. We can see more, too, +in the short space of time we have." + +So in carriages, bright and early Friday morning, the party started out +to "do" New Orleans, as Genevieve termed it. Leaving the "American +portion," where were situated their hotel and most of the other big +hotels and business houses of American type, they trailed happily along +through Prytania Street and St. Charles Avenue to the beautiful "Garden +District" which they had been warned not to miss. They found, indeed, +much to delight them in the stately, palatial homes set in the midst of +exquisitely kept lawns and wonderful groves of magnolia and oak. Quite +as interesting to them all, however, was the old French or Latin Quarter +below Canal Street, where were the Creole homes and business houses. +Here they ate their luncheon, too, in one of the curious French +restaurants, famous the world over for its delicious dishes. + +With the disappearance of the last mouthful on her plate, Tilly drew a +long breath. + +"I've always heard Creoles were awfully interesting," she sighed. "Do +you know--I don't think I'd mind much being a Creole myself!" + +"You look so much like one, too," laughed Genevieve, affectionately, +patting the soft, fluffy red hair above the piquant, freckled little +face. + +At five o'clock that afternoon a tired but happy party reached the hotel +in time to rest and dress for dinner. + +"Well," sighed Genevieve, "I'd have liked a week here, but a day has +been pretty good. We've seen enough 'Quarters' to make a 'whole,' and +the Cathedral, and dozens of other churches, and we've driven along +those lovely lakes with the unpronounceable names; and now I'm ready for +dinner." + +"And we saw a statue--the Margaret Statue," cut in Cordelia, anxiously. +"You know it's the _first_ statue ever erected to a woman's memory in +the United States. We wouldn't want to forget that!" + +"Well, I should like to," retorted Genevieve, perversely. "It's only so +much the worse for the United States--that it wasn't done before!" + +"I think Genevieve is going to be a suffragette," observed Tilly, +cheerfully, as they trooped into the hotel together. + +It was from New Orleans that Cordelia Wilson wrote a letter to Mr. +William Hodges. She had decided that it would be easier to write her bad +news than to tell it. Then, too, she disliked to keep the old man any +longer in suspense. She made her letter as comforting as she could. + + "MR. WILLIAM HODGES, SIR:--" she wrote. "I am very + sorry to have to tell you that I have looked, but + cannot find your oil well anywhere. I did find a + man who had heard about it, but he said there + wasn't any well at all like what the Boston man + told you there was. He said it was a bad swindle + and he knew many others who had lost their money, + too, which I thought would please you. O dear, no, + I don't mean that, of course. I only mean that you + might like to know that others besides you hadn't + known any more than to put money in it, too. (That + doesn't sound quite right yet, but perhaps you + know what I mean.) + + "I hope you won't feel too bad about it, Mr. + Hodges. I saw some oil wells when we came through + Beaumont, and I am quite sure you would not like + them at all. They are not one bit like Bertha's + aunt's well on her farm, with the bucket. In fact, + they don't look like wells at all, and I never + should have known what they were if Mr. Hartley + had not told me. They are tall towers _standing + up_ out of the ground instead of stone holes sunk + down in the ground. (It is just as if you should + call the cupola on your house your cellar--and you + know how queer that would be!) I saw a lot of + them--oil wells, not cupolas, I mean--and they + looked more like a whole lot of little Eiffel + Towers than anything else I can think of. (If you + will get your grandson, Tony, to show you the + Eiffel Tower in his geography, you will see what I + mean.) Mr. Hartley says they _do_ bore for + them--wells, I mean, not Eiffel Towers--and so I + suppose they do go down before they go up. + + "I saw the wells on the way between San Antonio + and New Orleans. One was on fire. (Just think of a + well being on fire!) Of course we were riding + through a most wonderful country, anyway. We saw a + great many things growing besides oil wells, too, + as you must know--rice, and cotton, and tobacco, + and sugar cane, and onions, and quantities of + other things. I picked some cotton bolls. (I spelt + that right. This kind isn't b-a-ll.) I am sending + you a few in a little box. It takes 75,000 of them + to make one bale of cotton, so I'm afraid you + couldn't make even a handkerchief out of these. + + "I am so sorry about the oil well, but I did the + best that I could to find it. + + "Respectfully yours, + "CORDELIA WILSON." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE GOLDEN HOURS + + +Long before ten o'clock Saturday morning--the hour for sailing--Mr. +Hartley and his party were on board the big steamship which was to take +them to New York. Here, again, new sensations and new experiences +awaited the Happy Hexagons, not one of whom had ever been on so large a +boat. + +"I declare, I do just feel as if I was going abroad," breathed Cordelia, +in an awestruck voice, as she crossed the gangplank. + +"Well, I'm sure we _are_, almost," exulted Genevieve. "We're going to +have a hundred hours of it. You know that little pamphlet that told +about it called it 'a hundred golden hours at sea.' Oh, Cordelia, only +think--one hundred golden hours!" + +"You'll think it's a thousand, if you happen to be seasick," groaned +Tilly. (Tilly was looking rather white to-day.) "And they won't be +golden ones, either--they'll be _lead_ ones. I know because I've been to +Portland when it's rough." + +"Well, we aren't going to be seasick," retorted Genevieve, with +conviction. "We're just going to have the best time ever. See if we +don't!" + +"Now, dearie," said Mr. Hartley, hurrying up at that moment, "I engaged +one of the suites for Mrs. Kennedy, and I think Miss Tilly had better be +with her. The bed will be much more comfortable for her poor arm than a +berth would be, and Mrs. Kennedy can look after her better, too, in that +way. The little parlor of the suite will give us all a cozy place to +meet together. There are two berths there which they turn into a lounge +in the daytime. I thought perhaps you and Miss Cordelia could sleep +there. Then I have staterooms for the rest of us--I engaged them all a +week ago, of course. Now if you'll come with me I reckon we can set up +housekeeping right away," he finished with a smile. + +"Setting up housekeeping" proved to be an absorbing task, indeed. It +included not only bestowing their belongings in the chosen places, but +interviewing purser and stewards in regard to rugs, steamer chairs, and +other delightfully exciting matters. Then there was the joy of exploring +the great ship that was to be their home for so many days. The luxurious +Ladies' Parlor, the Library with its alluring books and magazines, the +Dining Saloon with its prettily-laid tables and its revolving chairs +(like piano stools, Tilly said), the decks with their long, airy +promenades, all came in for delighted exclamations of satisfaction which +increased to a chorus of oh's and ah's when the trip really began, and +the stately ship was wending its way down the Great River to the Gulf of +Mexico. + +First there was to be seen the city itself, nestled beyond its barricade +of levees. + +"Dear me!" shuddered Cordelia. "I don't believe I'd have slept a wink +last night if I'd realized how _much_ below the river we were. Only +fancy if one of those levees had sprung a leak!" + +"Why, they'd have sent for the plumber, of course," observed Tilly, +gravely. + +"Of course! Still--they don't look very leaky, to me," laughed +Genevieve. + +"Was it here, or somewhere else, that a man (or was it a child?) put his +arm (or was it a finger?) in a little hole in the wall and stopped the +leak, and so saved the town?" mused Bertha aloud dreamily. + +"Of course it was," answered Tilly with grave emphasis; and not until +the others laughed did Bertha wake up enough to turn her back with a +shrug. + +"Well, it was somewhere, anyhow," she pouted. + +"As if we could doubt that--after what you said," murmured Tilly. + +"But they have had floods here, haven't they?" questioned Alma Lane. + +Genevieve gave a sudden laugh. At the others' surprised look she +explained: + +"Oh, I'm not laughing at the real floods, the _water_ floods they've +had, of course. It's just that I happened to think of something I read +some time ago. They had one flood here of--molasses." + +"Mo--lass--es!" chorused several voices. + +"Yes. A big tank that the city used to have for a reservoir had been +bought by a sugar company and turned into a storage for molasses. Well, +it burst one day, and a little matter of a million gallons of molasses +went exploring through the streets. They say some poor mortals had +actually to wade to dry land." + +"Genevieve! what a story," cried Elsie. + +"But it's true," declared Genevieve. "A whole half-mile square of the +city was flooded, honestly. At least, the newspapers said it was." + +"How the pickaninnies must have gloried in it," giggled Tilly, "--if +they liked 'bread and perlashes' as well as I used to. Only think of +having such a _big_ saucerful to dip your bread into!" + +"Tilly!" groaned Genevieve. + +They were at Port Chalmette, now. The Crescent City lay behind them, and +beyond lay the shining river-roadway, with its fertile, +highly-cultivated plantations bordering each side, green and beautiful. + +"How perfectly, perfectly lovely!" cried Elsie. "And I'm not sick one +bit." + +"Naturally not--yet," laughed Tilly. "But you just wait. We don't sail +the Mississippi all the way to New York, you know." + +"I wish we did," said Genevieve, her eyes dreamily following the shore +line. "But we're only on it for a hundred miles." + +"I don't," disagreed Elsie. "I want to see the Gulf Stream. They say +it's a deep indigo blue, and that you can see it plainly. I think a blue +river in a green sea must be lovely--like a blue ribbon trailing down a +light green gown, you know." + +"Well, I want to see the real ocean, 'way out--out. I want to see +nothing but water, water everywhere," declared Alma Lane. + +"'And not a drop to drink,'" quoted Tilly. "Well, young lady, you may +see the time when you'd give your eyes for a bit of land--and just any +old land would do, too, so long as it _stayed put_!" + +"What does it feel like to be seasick?" asked Cordelia, interestedly. + +"It feels as if the bottom had dropped out of everything, and you didn't +much care, only you wished you'd gone with it," laughed Tilly. + +"Who was it?--wasn't it Mark Twain who said that the first half-hour you +were awfully afraid you would die, and the next you were awfully afraid +you wouldn't?" questioned Elsie. + +"I don't know; but whoever said it knew what he was talking about," +declared Tilly. "You just wait!" + +"We're waiting," murmured Genevieve, demurely. + +"You young ladies don't want to forget your exercise," said Mr. Hartley +smilingly, coming up at that moment with Mrs. Kennedy. "We've just been +five times around the deck." + +"It's eleven laps to the mile," supplemented Mrs. Kennedy with a smile. + +"What's a lap?" asked Cordelia. + +"Sounds like a kitten on a wager with a saucer of milk," laughed Tilly, +frowning a little as she tried to adjust her sling more comfortably. + +"Well, young ladies, we'll show you just what a lap is, if you'll come +with us," promised Mr. Hartley; and with alacrity the girls expressed +themselves as being quite ready to be shown. + +On and on, mile after mile, down the great river swept the great ship +until Forts Jackson and St. Philip were reached and left behind; then on +and on for other miles to the narrow South Pass where on either side the +Eads Jetties called forth exclamations of wonder. + +"Well, you'd better 'ah' and 'um,'" laughed Genevieve. "They happen to +be one of the greatest engineering feats in the world; that's all." + +"How do you know that?" demanded Bertha. + +"Don't worry her," cut in Tilly, with mock sympathy. "Poor thing! it's +only a case of another guidebook, of course." + +"Well, all is, just keep your weather eye open," laughed Genevieve, "for +when we make the South Pass Lightship, then ho! for the--" + +"Broad Atlantic," interposed Tilly. + +"Well, not until you've passed through the little matter of the Gulf of +Mexico," rejoined Genevieve; while a chorus of laughing voices jeered: + +"Why, Tilly Mack, where's your geography?" + +"Don't know, I'm sure," returned Tilly, imperturbably. "Haven't seen it +since I studied up Texas," she finished as she turned away. + +The first night aboard ship was another experience never to be forgotten +by the Happy Hexagons. In the parlor of the suite Genevieve and Cordelia +kept up such an incessant buzz of husky whispering and tittering that +Mrs. Kennedy came out from the bedroom to remonstrate. + +"My dears, you mean to be quiet, I know; but I'm sure you don't realize +how it sounds from our room. Tilly is nervous and feverish to-night--the +day has been very exciting for her." + +"And she has tried so hard to keep up, and seem as usual, too," cried +Genevieve, contritely. "Of course we'll keep still! Cordelia, I'm +ashamed of you," she finished severely. Then, at Cordelia's amazed look +of shocked distress, she hugged her spasmodically. "As if it wasn't all +my fault," she chuckled. + +In other parts of the boat the rest of the party explored their strange +quarters to the last corner; then made themselves ready to be "laid on +the shelf," as Elsie termed going to bed in the narrow berth. + +"I shall take off my shoes to-night," announced Bertha with dignity, +after a long moment of silence. "If anything happens here we'll get into +the water, of course, and I think shoes would only be a nuisance." + +For a moment Elsie did not answer; then, almost hopefully she asked, + +"I suppose if anything did happen we'd lose our clothes--even if we +ourselves were saved, wouldn't we?" + +"Why, I--I suppose so." + +"Yes, that's what I thought," nodded Elsie, happily. Elsie, at the +moment, was engaged in taking off a somewhat unevenly faded green +chambray frock. + + * * * * * + +It was on the second day of the trip that Cordelia took from her +suit-case a sheet of paper, worn with much folding and refolding, and +marked plainly, "Things to do in Texas." + +"I suppose I might as well finish this up now," she sighed. "I'm out of +Texas, and what is done is done; and what is undone can't ever be done, +now." And carefully she spread the paper out and reached into her bag +for her pencil. + +When she had finished her work, the paper read as follows: + +See the blue bonnet--the Texas state flower. Find out if it really is +shaped like a bonnet. Didn't. + +Bring home a piece of prairie grass. Did. + +See a real buffalo. Did. (But it was in a park.) + +Find Hermit Joe Sanborn's son, John, who ran away to Texas twenty years +ago. Didn't. + +See an Osage orange hedge. Did. + +See a broncho bursted (obviously changed over from "busted"). Did. + +Find out for Mrs. Miller if cowboys do shoot at sight, and yell always +without just and due provocation. Did. They do not. Cowboys are good, +kind gentlemen; but they are noisy, and some rough-looking. + +See a mesquite tree. Did. + +Inquire if any one has seen Mrs. Snow's daughter, Lizzie, who ran away +with a Texas man named Higgins. Did. (But could not find any one who +had.) + +Pick a fig. Didn't. + +See a rice canal. Did. + +Find out what has become of Mrs. Granger's cousin, Lester Goodwin, who +went to Texas fourteen years ago. Did. + +See cotton growing, and pick a cotton boll, called "Texas Roses." Did. + +See peanuts growing. Did. + +Inquire for James Hunt, brother of Miss Sally Hunt. Did. (But could not +find him.) + +See a real Indian. Did. + +Look at oil well for Mr. Hodges, and see if there is any there. Did. +(But there wasn't any there like the one he wanted.) + + * * * * * + +The paper completed, Cordelia looked at it with troubled eyes. + +"It doesn't sound quite right," she thought. "Somehow, the things _I_ +wanted to do are 'most all done, but I didn't find but just one of those +people, and seems as if I ought to have done better than that. Besides, +I'm not at all sure Mrs. Granger will be satisfied with what I did find +for her--a cowboy, so!" And she sighed as she put the paper away. + +The trip across the Gulf of Mexico to Dry Tortugas Light was nothing but +a rest and a joy to everybody. It was still delightful and wonderfully +interesting all the way around the City of Key West and up by the +southeastern coast of Florida with its many lights and coral reefs. + +Here Genevieve's guidebook came again into prominence. + +"The Sand Key Light 'way back there is our most southern possession, and +only fifty-seven miles from the line of the Tropics," she announced +glibly one day. "We're coming to the American Shoals Light, the +Sombrero Light, Alligator Light, Carysfort Light and Fowey Rock Light." + +"Mercy! Didn't you sleep _any_ last night?" inquired Tilly, +sympathetically. + +"I suppose you mean you think it must have taken all night to learn all +that," laughed Genevieve. "But it didn't." + +"Maybe you know some more, now," hazarded Tilly. + +"Certainly. After we strike Jupiter Light, we veer off into the Atlantic +out of sight of land." + +"I thought lighthouses were put up so you wouldn't 'strike' them," +observed Tilly, with smooth politeness; "but then, of course if you do +strike them, it is quite to be expected that you veer off into the +Atlantic, and never see land again. Besides, I found all those +lighthouses and things on a paper last night, but it was the southern +trip that did all that. Maybe we, going north, don't do the same things +at all. I sha'n't swallow all you say, anyhow, till I know for sure." + +"Children, stop your quarreling," commanded Bertha Brown, sternly. "Now +I've been learning something worth while. _I_ know the saloon deck from +the promenade deck, and I can rattle off 'fore' and 'aft' and 'port' and +'starboard' as if I'd been born on shipboard!" + +"Pooh! You wait," teased Tilly. "There'll come a time when you won't +think you're born on shipboard, and you won't know or care which is +fore or aft--any of you. And it will come soon, too. Those were +porpoises playing this morning--when Cordelia thought she saw the sea +serpent, you know. I heard a man say he thought it meant a storm was +coming. And if it does--you just wait," she finished laughingly. + +"Oh, I'm waiting," retorted Bertha. "I like waiting. Besides, I don't +think it's coming, anyhow!" + +But it did come. Off the coast of South Carolina they ran into a heavy +storm, and the great ship creaked and groaned as it buffeted wind and +wave. + +In the little parlor of the suite the entire party, banished from wet, +slippery decks, made merry together, and declared it was all fun, +anyway. But gradually the ranks thinned. First Mrs. Kennedy asked to be +excused, and went into the bedroom. Alma Lane went away next. She said +she wanted a drink of water--but she did not return, and very soon Elsie +Martin, looking suspiciously white about the lips, said she guessed she +would go and find Alma. She, too, did not return. + +Tilly went next. Tilly, naturally, had not been her usual self since the +accident, in spite of her brave attempts to hide her suffering. She +slipped away now without a word; though just before she had made them +all laugh by saying a little shakily: + +"I declare, I wish Reddy were here! He'd think he was riding his +broncho, sure." + +Just when Mr. Hartley disappeared, no one seemed to know. One moment he +had been singing lustily "Pull for the Shore"; the next moment he was +gone. There was left then only Bertha with Genevieve and Cordelia in the +little parlor; and certainly the last two were anything but sorry when +Bertha rose a little precipitately to go, too, saying: + +"I--I think, Genevieve, if you don't mind, I'll go and take off my +shoes. They sort of--hurt me." + +"Honestly, Cordelia," moaned Genevieve, when they had the room to +themselves, "I reckon we're not caring just now, whether we're fore or +aft!" + +It was not really a serious storm, after all, and not any of the party +was seriously ill. They were all on deck again, indeed, smiling and +happy, even if a little white-faced, long before the journey was ended. + +It was during the very last of the "golden hours" that Tilly, her eyes +on Bartholdi's wonderful Statue of Liberty just ahead of them, in the +New York Bay, choked: + +"I declare, I'd just like to give that lady our Texas yell. Only think, +girls, our Texas trip is almost over!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HERMIT JOE + + +There was not quite so large a crowd at the Sunbridge station to welcome +the Texas travelers as there had been to see them off; but it was fully +large enough to give a merry cheer of greeting, as the train pulled into +the little station. + +"They're all here, with their 'sisters and their cousins and their +aunts,'" laughed Tilly, stooping to look through the window as she +passed down the narrow aisle behind Genevieve. + +"I should say they were," answered Genevieve a little wistfully. "We +haven't got any one, I'm afraid, though. Miss Jane's been 'down in +Maine,' as you call it, visiting, and she doesn't come till next week." + +"Oh, yes, you have," chuckled Tilly, as she caught sight of an eager +face in the crowd. "There's Harold Day." + +"Pooh! He didn't come to welcome me any more than he did the rest of +you," retorted Genevieve severely, as she neared the door. + +And what a confusion and chatter it all was, when "their sisters and +their cousins and their aunts"--to say nothing of their fathers and +mothers and brothers--all talked and laughed at once, each trying to be +first to kiss and hug the _one_ returning traveler, before bestowing +almost as cordial a welcome on all the others. At last, however, in +little family groups, afoot or in carriages, the crowd began to leave +the station, and Genevieve found herself with Mrs. Kennedy in the family +carriage with the old coachman sitting sedately up in front. Mr. Hartley +had left the party in New York, after seeing them safely aboard their +Boston train. + +"Well, it's all over," sighed Genevieve, happily, "and hasn't it been +just lovely--with nothing but poor Tilly's arm to regret!" + +"Yes, it certainly has been a beautiful trip, my dear, and I know every +one has enjoyed it very much. And now comes--school." + +Genevieve made a wry face; then, meeting Mrs. Kennedy's reproving eye, +she colored. + +"There, forgive me, Aunt Julia, please. That wasn't nice of me, of +course, when you're so good as to let me come another year. But school +is so tiresome!" + +"Tiresome! Oh, my dear!" + +"Well, it is, Aunt Julia," sighed the girl. + +"But I thought you liked it now, dear. You took hold of it so bravely at +the last." Mrs. Kennedy's eyes were wistful. + +"Oh, of course I wanted to pass and go on with the rest of the girls, +Aunt Julia. I couldn't help wanting that. But as for really _liking_ +it--I couldn't like it, you know; just study, study, study all day in +hot, poky rooms, when it's so much nicer out of doors!" + +Mrs. Kennedy shook her head. Her eyes were troubled. + +"I'm afraid, my dear, that this trip _hasn't_ helped any. I was fearful +that it wouldn't be easy for you to settle down after such a prolonged +playday." + +"Oh, but I shall settle, Aunt Julia, I shall settle," promised Genevieve +with a merry smile. "I know I've got to settle--but I can't say yet I +shall like it," she finished, as the carriage turned in at the broad +driveway, and Nancy and Bridget were seen to be waiting in respectful +excitement to welcome them. + +There would be five days to "get used to it"--as Genevieve expressed +it--before school began; but long before noon of the first of those five +days, Genevieve had planned in her mind enough delightful things to +occupy twice that number of days. Immediately after dinner, too, came +something quite unexpected in the shape of a call from Cordelia. + +Cordelia looked worried. + +"Genevieve, I've come to ask a favor, please. I'm sure I don't know as +you'll want to do it, but--but I want you to go with me to see Hermit +Joe." + +"To see--_Hermit Joe_!" + +"O dear, I knew you'd exclaim out," sighed Cordelia; "but it's just got +to be done. I suppose I ought not to have told you, anyway, but I +couldn't bear to go up to that dismal place alone," she finished, +tearfully. + +"Why, of course not, dear; and I'm sure you did just right to tell me," +soothed Genevieve, in quick response to the tears in Cordelia's eyes. +"Now wait while I get my hat and ask Aunt Julia. She'll let me go, I +know;--she'd let me go to--to London, with _you_." + +"Just please say it's an errand--an important one," begged Cordelia, +nervously, as Genevieve darted into the house. + +In two minutes the girl had returned, hat in hand. + +"Now tell me all about it," she commanded, "and don't look so +frightened. Hermit Joe isn't cross. He's only solemn and queer. He won't +hurt us." + +"Oh, no, he won't hurt us," sighed the other. "He'll only look more +solemn and queer." + +"Why?" + +"Because of what I've got to tell him. I--I suppose I ought to have +written it, but I just couldn't. Besides, I hadn't found out anything, +and so I didn't want to write until I was sure I couldn't find anything. +Now it's done, and I haven't found out anything. So I've got to tell +him." + +"Tell him what, Cordelia?" demanded Genevieve, a little impatiently. +"How do you suppose I can make anything out of that kind of talk?" + +"O dear! you can't, of course," sighed Cordelia; "and, of course, if +I've told you so much I must tell the rest. It's Hermit Joe's son. I +can't find him." + +"His son! I didn't know he had a son." + +"He has. His name is John. He ran away to Texas twenty years ago." + +"And you've been hunting for _him_, too--besides that Lester Goodwin who +turned out to be Reddy?" + +Cordelia nodded. She did not speak. + +Genevieve laughed unexpectedly. + +"Of all the funny things I ever heard of! Pray, how many more lost +people have you been looking for in the little state of Texas?" + +Cordelia moved her shoulders uneasily. + +"I--I'd rather not tell that, please, Genevieve," she stammered, with a +painful blush. + +Genevieve stared dumbly. She had not supposed for a moment that Cordelia +had been looking for any more lost people. She had asked the question +merely as an absurdity. To have it taken now in this literal fashion, +and evidently with good reason--Genevieve could scarcely believe the +evidence of her senses. Another laugh was almost on her lips, but the +real distress in Cordelia's face stopped it in time. + +"You poor dear little thing," she cried sympathetically. "What a shame +to bother you so! I wonder you had any fun at all on the trip." + +"Oh, but I did, Genevieve! You don't know how beautiful it all was to +me--only of course I felt sorry to be such a failure in what folks +wanted me to do. You see, Reddy was the only one I found, and I'm very +much worried for fear he won't be satisfactory." + +Genevieve did laugh this time. + +"Well, if he isn't, I don't see how that can be your fault," she +retorted. "Come, now let's forget all this, and just talk Texas +instead." + +"Aunt Mary says I do do that--all the time," rejoined Cordelia, with a +wistful smile. "Aunt Sophronia is there, too, and _she_ says I do. +Still, she likes to hear it, I verily believe, else she wouldn't ask me +so many questions," concluded Cordelia, lifting her chin a little. + +"I'd like to take Miss Jane there sometime," observed Genevieve, with a +gravity that was a little unnatural. + +"Oh, mercy!" exclaimed Cordelia--then she stopped short with a hot +blush. "I--I beg your pardon, I'm sure, Genevieve," she went on +stammeringly. "I ought not to have spoken that way, of course. I was +only thinking of Miss Jane and--and the cowboys that day they welcomed +us." + +"Yes, I know," rejoined Genevieve, her lips puckered into a curious +little smile. + +"I don't believe I'm doing any more talking, anyway, than Tilly is," +remarked Cordelia, after a moment's silence. "Of course, Tilly, with her +poor arm, would make a lot of questions, anyway; but she _is_ talking a +great deal." + +"I suppose she is," chuckled Genevieve, "and we all know what _she'll_ +say." + +"But she says such absurd things, Genevieve. Why, Charlie Brown--you +know he calls us the 'Happy _Tex_agons' now--well, he told me that +Tilly'd been bragging so terribly about Texas, and all the fine things +there were there, that he asked her this morning real soberly--you know +how Charlie Brown _can_ ask questions, sometimes--" + +"I know," nodded Genevieve. + +"Well, he asked her, solemn as a judge, 'Do these wondrous tamales of +yours grow on trees down there?' + +"'Oh, yes,' Tilly assured him serenely. And when Charlie, of course, +declared that couldn't be, she just shrugged her shoulders and answered: +'Well, of course, Charlie, I'll own I didn't _see_ tamales growing on +trees, but Texas is a very large state, and while I didn't, of course, +see anywhere near all of it, yet I saw so much, and it was all so +different from each other, that I'm sure I shouldn't want to say that I +_knew_ they didn't have tamale trees somewhere in Texas!' And then she +marched off in that stately way of hers, and Charlie declared he began +to feel as if tamale trees did grow in Texas, and that he ought to go +around telling folks so." + +"What a girl she is!" laughed Genevieve. "But, Cordelia, she isn't all +nonsense. We found that out that dreadful night of the accident." + +"Indeed we did," agreed Cordelia, loyally; then, with a profound sigh +she added: "O dear! for a minute I'd actually forgotten--Hermit Joe." + +Hermit Joe lived far up the hillside in a little hut surrounded by thick +woods. A tiny path led to his door, but it was seldom trodden by the +foot of anybody but of Hermit Joe himself--Hermit Joe did not encourage +visitors, and visitors certainly were not attracted by Hermit Joe's +stern reticence on all matters concerning himself and every one else. + +To-day, as the girls entered the path at the edge of the woods, the sun +went behind a passing cloud, and the gloom was even more noticeable than +usual. + +"Mercy! I'm glad Hermit Joe _isn't_ dangerous and _doesn't_ bite," +whispered Genevieve, peering into the woods on either side. "Aunt Julia +says he is really a very estimable man--Cordelia, if I was a man I just +wouldn't be an 'estimable' one." + +"Genevieve!" gasped the shocked Cordelia. + +Genevieve laughed. + +"Oh, I'd _be_ it, of course, my dear, only I wouldn't want to be +_called_ it. It's the word--it always makes me think of side whiskers +and stupidity." + +"Oh, Genevieve!" cried Cordelia, again. + +"Well, as I was saying, Aunt Julia told me that Hermit Joe was really a +very nice man. She used to know him well before a great sorrow drove him +into the woods to live all by himself." + +Cordelia nodded sadly. + +"That was his son that ran away. Aunt Mary told me that long ago. She +told us children never to tease him, or worry him, but that we needn't +be afraid of him, either. He wouldn't hurt us. I heard once that he was +always stern and sober, and that that was why his son ran away. But that +it 'most killed him--the father--when he did go. And now I couldn't find +him! Isn't it terrible, Genevieve?" Cordelia's eyes were full of tears. + +"Yes," sighed Genevieve. "But you aren't to blame, dear." + +It was very beautiful in the hushed green light of the woods, with now +and then a bird-call, or the swift scampering of a squirrel's feet to +break the silence. But the girls were not noticing birds or squirrels +to-day, and they became more and more silent as they neared the end of +their journey. The little cabin was almost in sight when Genevieve +caught Cordelia's arm convulsively. + +"Cordelia, sh-h-h! Isn't that some one--talking?" she whispered. + +Cordelia held her right foot suspended in the air for a brief half +minute. + +"Yes. That's Hermit Joe's voice. He _is_ talking to some one." + +"Then there must be somebody there with him." + +"Yes. Genevieve, I--I _guess_ I won't tell him to-day," faltered +Cordelia. "Let's go back. I'll come again to-morrow." + +"Nonsense! Go back, and have you worrying about this thing another +twenty-four hours? No, indeed! Come, Cordelia, we must tell him now. I +think we ought to do it, really." + +"All right," sighed the other despairingly. "Come, then." The next +minute she gave a sharp cry. "Why, Mr. _Edwards_!" she breathed. + +They had come to the turn which brought the cabin into plain sight; and +on the stone step with Hermit Joe sat the man Cordelia had last seen +driving away from the Six Star Ranch in Texas. + +Both men rose abruptly. The younger stepped forward. There was a +whimsical smile on his lips, but his eyes were wonderfully tender. + +"Yes, 'Mr. Edwards,' Miss Cordelia--but Mr. 'Jonathan Edwards +_Sanborn_.' You see, you didn't know all my name, perhaps." + +To every one's surprise and consternation Cordelia sat down exactly +where she was, and began to cry softly. + +"Why, Cordelia!" + +Genevieve was at her friend's side at once. Hermit Joe looked plainly +distressed. Mr. Jonathan Edwards Sanborn hurried forward in frightened +dismay. + +"Oh, but Miss Cordelia, don't, please don't--I beg of you! Don't you +understand? I am John Sanborn, Hermit Joe's son; and 'twas all through +you that I came home again." + +Cordelia only sobbed the harder. + +Genevieve dropped on her knees at the girl's side, and put her arms +about her. + +"Cordelia, Cordelia, dear--don't you see?--it's all come out right. You +did find him, after all! Why are you crying so?" + +"T-that's why," stuttered Cordelia, smiling through tear-wet eyes. "It's +because I d-did find him, and I'm so glad, and everything!" + +"But, if you're glad, why cry?" began Hermit Joe's son, in puzzled +wonder, but Genevieve patted Cordelia's back, and smiled cheerily. + +"That's all right, Cordelia," she declared. "I know just how you feel. +_Now_ you know what was the matter with me when you girls gave me the +Texas yell at the station. Just cry all you like!" + +As if permission, only, were all she wanted, Cordelia wiped her eyes and +smiled shyly into Mr. Jonathan Edwards Sanborn's face. + +"It is really you, isn't it?" she murmured. + +"It certainly is, Miss Cordelia." + +"And you wouldn't have come if it hadn't been for what I said?" + +"No. You set me to thinking, and when I got to thinking I couldn't stop. +And, of course, when I couldn't stop thinking I had to come; that's +all." + +"I'm so glad," sighed Cordelia; then, interestedly: "How long have you +been here?" + +"Only since day before yesterday. No one in the village knows I'm here, +I suspect. We've been talking over our plans--father and I. I want him +to come West with me." + +Cordelia got up from the ground. + +"I'm so glad," she said again, simply. "Genevieve, I think we ought to +be going." + +As she turned toward the path, Hermit Joe advanced so that he +intercepted her. + +"Miss Cordelia, I would like to tell how--but I can't. Still--I wish you +could know how happy you've made me." + +Hermit Joe spoke with evident difficulty. His lips, so long unused to +speaking, stumbled over the words; but his eyes glowed as with hidden +fires, and his whole face was alight with joy. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE NEW BOY + + +The first day of school, for Genevieve, was not a success. Before two +hours of it had passed, indeed, she declared to herself that Miss Hart, +her new teacher, was not at all promising, and that she did not like her +nearly so well as she had liked Miss Palmer the year before. Making the +final arrangements as to her studies and recitations, too, Genevieve +privately voted a bore; and more than once her eyes turned longingly to +the beautiful September sunshine out of doors. + +At recess time the Happy Hexagons met in the corridor and held what +proved to be an indignation meeting. + +"Well, I for one don't like her a bit," declared Tilly, perking up the +bow ends of the black sling that hung about her neck. + +"Nor I," echoed Genevieve. + +"Not much like Miss Palmer last year, nor Miss Jones," said Bertha. "I +told you we wouldn't get such a good one this term." + +"But, girls, I think we ought to try to like her," ventured Cordelia, in +a voice that told very plainly how she expected her remark to be +received. + +"Of course," sniffed Tilly, disdainfully. + +"Oh, but I'm sure she won't be half bad when we come to know her," cried +Alma Lane. "She was so nervous this morning, and I think acted troubled +over something." + +Tilly tossed her head. + +"Troubled! I should think we were the ones that were troubled. Did you +ever see such a lot of rules and regulations about what not to do? She's +scarcely left a thing we _can_ do." + +"Oh, yes, she has," groaned Genevieve. "We can sit still and look +pleasant, and study, study, study! I reckon I shall have to, all right, +too, this term, at the rate my studies and recitation hours are piling +up," she finished, as the bell rang for them to go to their seats. + +All days--even the worst of them--come to an end sometime; and at last +Genevieve was free to go home. Half-way to the Kennedy house a soft +whistle of the Happy Hexagons' Club song sounded behind her; and a +moment later Harold Day caught up with her. + +"Well?" he queried. + +"But it isn't 'well' at all," wailed Genevieve, with a shake of her +head. + +"So I judged from your face." + +"But--have _you_ ever had Miss Hart for a teacher?" + +"No; she's new this year. We had Miss Holbrook in her place last year, +and she was fine; but she got married, you know. She herself recommended +Miss Hart for the position, I believe." + +"Did she?" sighed Genevieve. + +"What a lugubrious face!" laughed Harold. "Suppose you tell me what is +the matter with Miss Hart, eh?" + +"I can't. It's just an intangible, indefinable 'don't-like-her' feeling. +She doesn't sit still a minute, and she's awful on rules. Tilly calls +her 'Miss Hartless.'" + +Harold laughed. + +"Trust Tilly to call her something!" he rejoined. "But I don't believe +the lady will be half bad when you get used to her." + +"That's what your cousin Alma says." + +"Well, I believe she's right," declared Harold. "It sounds to me as if +Miss Hart were nervous and afraid." + +Genevieve opened her eyes. + +"Afraid! A _teacher afraid_!" + +"Wouldn't you be afraid if you had to follow where you know there had +been such favorites as Miss Holbrook and Miss Palmer were?" + +"Why, I never thought of it that way," frowned Genevieve. "I didn't +suppose teachers ever had--er--feelings like that." + +"Well, I suppose teachers are--folks, like the rest of us," hazarded the +youth, as he stopped a minute at the foot of the Kennedys' front walk. + +Genevieve shook her head mischievously. + +"I don't," she protested. "They always seem to me like things you buy +for school, just like you do the books and chalk, and that they come in +boxes all graded and sorted--primary, grammar, high school, French, +German, and all that," she flashed over her shoulder, as she skipped up +the walk toward the house. + +"There!" sighed Genevieve, bounding up on to the veranda, and dropping +her books into a chair. "I'm going for a ride with Tilly, Aunt Julia, +please, if you don't mind." + +"Very well, dear; but don't stay too long. There's your practicing, you +know." + +Genevieve scowled, and made an impatient gesture--neither of which Mrs. +Kennedy seemed to notice. + +"You have your watch, I see," she went on serenely; "so I don't think +you'll forget." + +Genevieve bit her lip. She threw a hurried glance into Mrs. Kennedy's +face; but that, too, Mrs. Kennedy did not appear to notice. + +"No, Aunt Julia," said Genevieve, a little constrainedly, as she went to +saddle her horse, "I sha'n't--forget." + +When quite by herself around the corner of the house, she drew a long +breath. + +"Sometimes," she muttered fiercely behind her teeth, "sometimes I--I +just wish folks _weren't_ so good to me! Seems to me I just _can't_ +waste a whole hour of this tiny little bit of glorious day that is left, +practising a stupid old 'one, two--one, two--one, two!'" Then, with +apparent irrelevance, she patted her blue-and-gold chatelaine watch +remorsefully--and it may be noted right here that she came back in ample +time for her hour of practising before supper. + +There was a new boy at school the next morning. This fact in itself did +not particularly interest the Happy Hexagons until they learned his +name. It was "O. B. J. Holmes." When the initials did not seem quite to +satisfy Miss Hart, he hesitated visibly, then said, with a very painful +blush, that the "O" might be put down "Oliver." It was plainly on the +teacher's tongue to ask about the other letters; but, after a moment's +hesitation, she passed over the matter, and turned to something else. + +As usual the Happy Hexagons found themselves together at recess time, +and as was natural, perhaps, the subject of the new boy came up for +discussion. + +"I don't believe 'Oliver' is ever his name," declared Tilly, stoutly. +"No sane youth in his right mind would blush so beautifully over just +'Oliver.' Besides, he didn't _say_ it was Oliver." + +[Illustration: "'HOW DO YOU DO, MR. OLIVER HOLMES,' SHE BEGAN"] + +"I saw Miss Hart talking to him as I came out just now," announced +Bertha, "and his face was even redder than ever. Hers was getting red, +too." + +"Then there _is_ something," cried Genevieve, excitedly, "and it's a +mystery. I love mysteries! 'O. B. J.'--what a really funny set of +letters!" + +"Must be 'Oliver Ben Johnson,'" laughed Bertha. + +"Sounds to me like 'O Be Joyful,'" giggled Tilly. + +"Sh-h!--Tilly!" warned Cordelia, in a horrified whisper. "He's coming. +He'll hear you!" + +But Tilly was not to be silenced. Tilly, for some reason, felt +recklessly mischievous that morning. + +"Why, of course his, name is 'O Be Joyful,'" she cried in gay, shrill +tones that carried the words straight to the ears of a rather +awkward-appearing boy coming toward them. "How could it be anything +else?" + +The boy blushed hotly. For a moment it seemed as if he would stop and +speak; but the next minute he had turned away his face, and was passing +them hurriedly. + +It was then that the unexpected happened. With a quick little impulsive +movement, Genevieve stepped to the new boy's side, and held out a +frankly cordial hand. + +"How do you do, Mr. Oliver Holmes," she began breathlessly, but with +hurried determination. "I am Genevieve Hartley, and I'd like to welcome +you to our school. These are my friends: Cordelia Wilson, Alma Lane, +Bertha Brown, Elsie Martin, and Tilly Mack. We hope you'll soon get +acquainted and feel at home here," she finished, her face almost as +painful a red as was the boy's. + +O. B. J. Holmes clutched Genevieve's hand, stammered a confused +something in response to the introductions, and flung a terrifiedly +uncertain bow in the direction of the wide-eyed girls; then he turned +and fled precipitately. + +Behind him he left, for one brief minute, a dazed silence before Tilly +lifted her chin disagreeably and spoke. + +"Well, dear me! For so _marked_ a bid for his favor, seems to me our +young friend doesn't show proper appreciation--to run away like that!" + +Genevieve colored angrily. + +"That was no bid for his favor, and you know it, Tilly Mack!" + +"No?" teased Tilly, hatefully. "Well, I'm sure I should have thought it +was if a perfect stranger flung herself in my way like that." + +"Tilly, Tilly--don't!" begged Cordelia, almost tearfully. + +It was Genevieve's turn to lift a disdainful chin. She eyed Tilly +scornfully. + +"Oh, no, you wouldn't--not if some other perfect stranger had just +called out a particularly hateful, horrid joke about something you were +not in the least to blame for! If you hadn't said what you did, I +shouldn't have said what I did, Tilly Mack. As it was, I--I just +couldn't help it; I was so sorry for him!" + +"Oh, it was just being sorry, then! Oh, excuse me; I didn't know," cooed +Tilly, smoothly. "You see, it looked so--different!" + +"Tilly!" gasped Cordelia. "Genevieve, don't you mind one bit what she +says!" But Genevieve, without a word, had turned and was walking swiftly +away. + +"Well, Tilly Mack," chorused several indignant voices; and Elsie Martin +added severely: "I've got my opinion of _you_--after all Genevieve has +just done for us! I'm sure, I think it was lovely of her to speak to +that boy like that!" + +Tilly flushed uncomfortably. Her tongue had gone much farther than she +had intended it to go. She did not like to think, either, of that Texas +trip just then. But the very shame that she felt made her only the more +determined not to show it--then. + +"Pooh! there wasn't a thing I said that anybody need to make such a fuss +about," she declared loftily; then, as she spied Harold Day coming +toward them, she called in a merry voice: "Seen the new boy, Harold? His +name is 'O. B. J. Holmes.' _I_ say his name is 'O Be Joyful,' and the +girls are shocked at my disrespect." + +"Is that so?" laughed Harold. "Well, I'm not sure I'd like that name +myself very well--even if 'tis a cheerful one! Where's Genevieve? One +doesn't often see one of you without all of you." + +"Oh, she was here, but she's gone. She was the most shocked of all," +answered Tilly, with mock humility. "Probably she's gone to tell him so. +You see, she shook hands with him and introduced us all around, and said +she'd like to welcome him and that she hoped he'd enjoy it here." + +"Oh, Tilly!" remonstrated Cordelia. + +"Why, Cordelia, didn't she?" asked Tilly, in a particularly innocent +tone of voice. + +"Y-yes," admitted Cordelia, reluctantly, "only--" The bell rang and the +group broke up, with Cordelia's sentence still unfinished. + +The rest of the day for the Happy Hexagons was not an easy one. Tilly +looked rebellious--and ashamed. Cordelia looked ready to cry. Genevieve +kept her eyes on her books and seemed unaware that there was such a +thing in the world as a girls' club, of which she was a prominent +member. Bertha, Elsie, and Alma divided their time between scowling at +Tilly and trying to attract Genevieve's attention. + +It was during the Latin recitation, which came just before closing time +at noon, that Cordelia's perturbation culminated in a blunder that sent +most of the class into convulsive giggles, and even brought a twitching +smile to Genevieve's tense lips. + +Cordelia, rising to translate in her turn, hurried blindly through a +paragraph until she came to the words "sub jugum". Now Cordelia very +well knew what "sub jugum" meant; but her eyes, at the moment, were +divided between her book and Genevieve's flushed cheeks, and so saw, +apparently, but half of the word "jugum". At all events, the next moment +the class were amazed to learn from Cordelia's lips that Caesar sent the +army--not "under the yoke" as was expected--but "under the jug." + +Cordelia knew, before the titters of the class told her, what she had +said; and with hot blushes she made a hasty correction. But to Cordelia, +usually so conscientiously accurate and circumspect, the thing was a +tragedy, and, as such, would not soon be forgotten by her. She knew, +too, that the class would not let her forget it even could she herself +do so. If she had doubted this, she did not doubt it longer, after +school was dismissed, for she was assailed on all sides by a merry +bombardment of gibes and questions as to just what sort of jug it was, +anyhow, under which Caesar sent his army. + +Genevieve, only, had nothing to say. She did not, indeed, even glance +toward Cordelia. With averted face she hurried through the corridor and +out the street door alone. In the yard a quick step behind her overtook +her, and she found herself looking into the flushed, agitated face of +the new boy. + +O. B. J. Holmes would not, at first sight, be called a good-looking +youth. His face was freckled, and his nose was rather large. But his +mouth was well-shaped, and his eyes were large and expressive. They +looked into Genevieve's now with a gaze that was clear and honest and +manly. + +"Miss Genevieve, may I walk with you a little way, please?" he asked +with disarming directness. "I want to speak to you." + +"Why, of--of course," stammered Genevieve. Then she colored painfully: +behind her she heard Tilly's laughing voice, followed by Alma's lower +one, and Harold's. + +"I wanted to thank you for what you did this morning," began O. B. J. +Holmes, falling into step with her. + +"Oh, that wasn't--wasn't anything," stammered Genevieve, nervously, +still acutely conscious of the eyes that she knew were behind her. + +The boy smiled a little wistfully. + +"Perhaps not, to you," he answered; "but if you'd been named 'O Be +Joyful' and had had to suffer for it as I have, you'd think it was +something." + +"You don't mean to say your name _is_ 'O Be Joyful'!" gasped Genevieve. + +He nodded, his face showing a deeper red. + +"Yes, that's what I wanted to tell you. I didn't feel square not to have +you know it, after you stood up so bravely for 'Oliver'. Of course, if +you like, you may tell the rest. I suppose I was foolish to try to keep +it to myself, anyway," he sighed moodily. + +"Tell it! Of course I sha'n't tell it," declared Genevieve, warmly. She +had forgotten all about those watching eyes behind her, now. + +"Thank you," smiled the boy again, a little wistfully. "Miss Hart knows +it, of course. I told her at recess; and the principal, Mr. Jackson, +knows it. He agreed to letting me be called 'Oliver,' and so does Miss +Hart. Still, I don't suppose I can keep it, and it will get out. I--I +supposed it had got out when I heard your friend this morning." + +"Well, it isn't out, and nobody knows it--but me," declared Genevieve, +with more warmth than grammar. "That was only some of Tilly Mack's +nonsense; and when you know her better, you'll know that nobody pays any +attention to what Tilly says." Genevieve stopped abruptly, and bit her +lip. She was thinking that not so very long before, she herself _had_ +paid attention to something Tilly Mack said. + +"I don't think mother ever realized just what such a name would be for a +fellow to carry through life," said the boy, after a moment's silence. +"There were five of us children, and she gave us all queer names--names +that expressed something that had just been happening in the family, you +understand. For instance, my oldest brother was born in a year when the +crops failed, and they called him 'Tribulation.' Crops were good, you +see, when I came," he added, with a rueful smile. + +"Why, how--how funny and--and terrible," breathed Genevieve. + +"Yes, it was terrible--but mother never thought of it that way, I'm +sure. I'm glad she can't know--now--just how hard it's been for me. When +I came here, I knew I was a perfect stranger and I determined folks +shouldn't know. I'd be 'Oliver B. J. Holmes.'" + +"And you shall be 'Oliver B. J. Holmes,'" averred Genevieve, lifting her +chin. "Oh, of course Tilly will call you the other, and maybe some of +the rest will, sometimes; but don't let that fret you for a moment. Just +remember that _no one knows_--for I sha'n't tell it. And now good-by. +This is my street," she finished, with a cheery nod. + +It was not easy for Genevieve to go back to the short session of school +that afternoon; but she went--and she tried to appear as if everything +was as usual when she met Cordelia and Elsie at the corner. Cordelia and +Elsie were only too glad to follow her lead. Not until they met Tilly in +the school yard--and saw her turn hastily away without speaking--did +they show how really constrained they felt. + +Genevieve, apparently, saw and felt nothing of this--but she never +looked toward Tilly that afternoon; and when school was dismissed she +hurried cheerfully away with only a smiling nod toward Cordelia and +Alma, whom she passed in the corridor. + +At home Genevieve went immediately to her practising--somewhat to Mrs. +Kennedy's surprise. She practised, too, quite fifteen minutes over her +hour--still more to Mrs. Kennedy's surprise. There was, also, a certain +unsympathetic hardness in the chords and runs that puzzled the lady not +a little; but in the face of their obvious accuracy, and of Genevieve's +apparent faithfulness, Mrs. Kennedy did not like to find fault. + +Just how long Genevieve would have practised is doubtful, perhaps, had +there not sounded an insistently repeated whistle of the Hexagon Club +song from the garden. The girl went to the open window then. + +"Did you whistle, Harold?" she asked, not too graciously. + +"Did I whistle?" retorted the boy, testily. "Oh, no, I never whistled +_once_--but I did four times! See here, I thought your practice-hour was +an _hour_." + +"It is." + +"Well, you've been working fifteen minutes over-time already." + +"Have I?" + +"Yes, you have; and your constitution positively needs a walk. Come, +it's your plain duty to your health. Will you go?" + +Genevieve dimpled into a laugh. + +"All right," she cried more naturally. "Then I'll come. I'll be out in a +jiffy." + +"Let's go up through the pasture to the woods," proposed Harold, when +Genevieve appeared, swinging her hat. + +"All right," nodded Genevieve, somewhat listlessly. "Anywhere." + +In the woods, some time later, Genevieve and Harold dropped themselves +down to rest. It was then that Harold cleared his throat a little +nervously. + +"You have a new boy in school, I hear," he said. + +Genevieve turned quickly. For a moment she looked almost angry. Then, +unexpectedly, she laughed. + +"You've been talking with Tilly, I perceive," she remarked. + +"Oh, no; Tilly has only been talking with me," retorted Harold, laughing +in his turn--though a little constrainedly. + +Genevieve grew suddenly sober. + +"I don't care; I'm glad I did it," she declared. "You know _what_ Tilly +can be when she wants to be--and she evidently wanted to be, this +morning. Just because a boy is new and has got freckles and a queer +name, is no reason why he should be made fun of like that." + +"Of course not!" Then, still a little constrainedly, Harold asked: "How +do you like him? I saw you talking with him afterward." + +Genevieve frowned thoughtfully. + +"Why, I don't know--I hadn't thought," she answered. "But I reckon +perhaps I like him. He talked quite a little, and he seemed rather nice, +I think--just frank and folksy, you know. Yes, I think I like him. I +think we'll all like him." + +"Oh, of course," agreed Harold without enthusiasm, getting suddenly to +his feet. "Well, I suppose we must be going." + +"Yes, of course," sighed Genevieve, glancing down at her little +blue-enamel watch; "but it _is_ nice here!" + +The homeward walk was somewhat of a silent one. Harold was unusually +quiet, and Genevieve was wondering just how and when peace and happiness +were to reign once more in the Hexagon Club. She was wondering, too, if +ever she could be just the same to Tilly--unless Tilly had first +something to say to her. + +As it happened, Genevieve's questions were answered, in a way, before +she slept; for, after she had gone up to bed that night, there came a +ring at the doorbell, followed, a moment later, by a tap at her door. + +"It do be a note for you, Miss Genevieve," explained Nancy. + +"A note--for me?" + +"Yes, Miss; from Miss Tilly, I think. She's down at the door with her +brother." + +Genevieve did not answer. Her eyes were devouring the note. + + "DEAR GENEVIEVE:--" Tilly had written. "I'm so + ashamed I just can't live till you tell me you + forgive me. I have begged Howard to take me down + there. I know I never, never can sleep till I've + asked your pardon for being so perfectly horrid + this morning. Will you ever, ever forgive and love + me again? + + "Your miserable, remorseful + "TILLY. + + "P. S. I think what you did was just the bravest, + loveliest thing I ever saw a girl do. + + "T. M. + + "P. S. again. I'm so late I'm afraid you've gone + to bed; but if you haven't, and if you do forgive + me, come to your window and wave to me. I shall + watch with what Quentina would call soulful, + hungry eyes. + + "T." + +"That's all right; thank you, Nancy. There isn't any answer," smiled +Genevieve as she closed the door. The next moment she darted across the +room, plucked a great pink aster from the vase on the table, hurried to +the window and threw up the screen. + +Below she saw the automobile and the two figures therein. Faintly +visible, too, was the upturned face of the girl, containing, presumably, +the "hungry, soulful eyes." + +The next moment, plump into Tilly's lap, fell a huge pink aster. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +GENEVIEVE LEARNS SOMETHING NOT IN BOOKS + + +School, in an amazingly short time, fell into its customary routine. +Genevieve, it is true, did not cease to pine for long, free hours out of +doors; but with as good grace as she could muster she submitted to the +inevitable. + +Miss Hart was still not a favorite in the school, and no one seemed to +realize this more keenly than did Miss Hart herself. At all events, as +the days passed, she grew thinner and paler looking, and more nervous +and worried in her manner. While none of the Happy Hexagons deliberately +set herself to making trouble, certainly none of them tried to cause +matters to be any easier for her. The girls themselves had long since +forgotten their brief day of unpleasantness regarding O. B. J. Holmes, +and were more devoted than ever, after this, their first quarrel. + +In the Kennedy home, too, matters had settled into their usual routine. +Miss Jane had returned, and the days, for Genevieve, were full of study, +practice, and the usual number of lessons in cooking and sewing. + +As the crisp October days came, every pleasant Saturday afternoon found +the Hexagon Club off for a long walk or ride, sometimes by themselves, +sometimes with Harold, Charlie, O. B. J. Holmes, or some of the other +boys and girls as invited guests. + +O. B. J. Holmes had long since ceased to be the "new boy." He was not, +indeed, exactly a favorite with some of the young people, but he was +included frequently in their merrymakings--chiefly because Genevieve +declared openly that she thought he ought to be. He was not called +"Oliver" except in the classroom. Outside he was known usually as "O. B. +J." slurred into "Obejay." Sometimes, it is true, Tilly's old "O Be +Joyful" was heard, but not often--perhaps because the lad appeared not +to care if they did call him that, specially if Genevieve were near to +join in the good-natured laugh with which he greeted it. + +Undeniably, this frank friendliness of the most popular girl in school +had much to do with the way the others regarded him; though they were at +a loss, sometimes, to account for a certain quality in that friendship, +which they could not fathom. + +"It's for all the world as if you'd known each other before," Harold +explained it a little aggrievedly one day to Genevieve, when O. B. J. +Holmes had just thrown her one of his merry glances at a sudden revival +of Tilly's "O Be Joyful" name. "Say, _have_ you known him before?" + +Genevieve laughed--but she shook her head. + +"No; but maybe I do know him now--a little better than you do," she +answered demurely, thinking of the name that Harold did not even +suspect. + +School this year, for Genevieve, was meaning two new experiences. One +was that for the first time class officers were elected; the other, that +a school magazine was started. In both of these she bore a prominent +part. In the one she was unanimously elected president; in the other she +was appointed correspondent for her class by the Editor-in-Chief. By +each, however, she was quite overwhelmed. + +"But I don't think I can do them--not either of them," she declared to +Mrs. Kennedy and Miss Jane Chick when she had brought home the news. "To +be Class President you have to be awfully dignified and conduct meetings +and know parliamentary law, and all that." + +"I'm not afraid of anything _there_ hurting you," smiled Miss Jane. "In +fact, it strikes me that it will do you a great deal of good." + +"Y-yes, I suppose you would think so," smiled Genevieve, a little +dubiously. + +"And I'm sure it's an honor," Mrs. Kennedy reminded her. + +Genevieve flushed. + +"I _am_ glad they wanted me," she admitted frankly. + +"And what is this magazine affair?" asked Miss Jane. + +"Yes, and that's another thing," sighed Genevieve. "I can't write +things. If it were only Quentina, now--she could do it!" + +"But you have written for the Chronicles, my dear," observed Mrs. +Kennedy. "Have you given those up?" + +"Oh, no; we still keep them, only we have entries once a week now +instead of every day. There isn't so much doing here as there was in +Texas, you know." + +"Then you do write for that," said Miss Jane. + +"Oh, but _that's_ just for us," argued Genevieve. "I don't mind that. +But this has got to be printed, Miss Jane--printed right out for +everybody to read! If it were only Quentina, now--she'd glory in it. +And--oh, Miss Jane, how I wish you could see Quentina," broke off +Genevieve, suddenly. "Dear me! wouldn't she just hit on your name, +though! She'd be rhyming it in no time, and have 'Miss Jane at the +window-pane,' before you could turn around!" + +"Quite an inducement for me to know her, I'm sure," observed Miss Jane, +dryly. + +Genevieve laughed, but she sighed again, too. + +"Well, anyhow, she would do it lovely--this correspondence business; but +I can't, I'm sure." + +"What are you supposed to do?" + +"Why, just hand in things--anything that's of interest in my class; but +I don't know _what_ to say." + +"Perhaps the others can help you," suggested Aunt Julia. + +Genevieve gave a sudden laugh. + +"They'd like to--some of them. Tilly's tried already. She gave me two +items this noon, all written down. One was that O. B. J. had a new +freckle on the left side of his nose, and the other that Bertha hadn't +said 'I told you so' to-day." + +"Genevieve!" protested the shocked Miss Jane. "You wouldn't--" She +stopped helplessly. + +"Oh, no, Miss Jane, I wouldn't," laughed Genevieve, merrily, as she rose +from the dinner-table. + +Perhaps it was her duties as president, and her new task as +correspondent, or perhaps it was just the allurement of the beautiful +out-of-doors that made it so hard for Genevieve to spend time on her +lessons that autumn. Perhaps, too, her lack of enthusiasm for Miss Hart +had something to do with it. Whatever it was, to concentrate her +attention on Latin verbs and French nouns grew harder and harder as the +days passed, until at last--in the frenzied rush of a study-hour one +day--she did what she had never done before: wrote the meaning of some +of the words under the Latin version in her book. + +It was, apparently, a great success. Her work in class was so unusually +good that Miss Hart's tired eyes brightened, and her lips spoke a word +of high praise--praise that sent to Genevieve's cheek a flush that +Genevieve herself tried to think was all gratification. But--the next +day she did not write any words in the book. The out-of-doors, however, +was just as alluring, and the outside duties were just as pressing; so +there was just as little time as ever for the Latin verbs. They +suffered, too, in consequence. So, also, did Genevieve; for this time, +Miss Hart, stung into irritation by this apparently unnecessary falling +back into carelessness, said a few particularly sharp words that sent +Genevieve out of the class with very red cheeks and very angry eyes. + +"I just hate Miss Hart and school, and--and everything," stormed +Genevieve hotly, five minutes later, as she met Cordelia and Tilly in +the corridor after school was dismissed. + +"Oh, Genevieve," remonstrated Cordelia, faintly. + +"Well, I do. I didn't have time to get that lesson--but a lot Miss Hart +cared for that!" + +"Why don't you use a pony?" twittered Tilly, cheerfully. + +"A--pony?" Genevieve's eyes were puzzled. + +Tilly laughed. + +"Oh, it isn't one of your bronchos," she giggled, "and it's easier to +ride than they are! It's just a nice little book that you buy--a Latin +translation, you know, all done by somebody else--and no bother to +you." + +"But--is that quite--fair?" frowned Genevieve. + +"Hm-m; well, I presume Miss Hartless wouldn't call it--good form," she +shrugged. + +"Why, Tilly Mack! of course it isn't fair, and you know it," cried +Cordelia. "It's worse than cribbing." + +"What's cribbing?" demanded Genevieve. + +"It's the only way out when you haven't got your lesson," answered +Tilly, promptly. + +"It's writing the translation under the words in the book," explained +Elsie Martin, who, coming up at the moment, had heard Genevieve's +question. + +"It's just plain cheating--and it's horrid," declared Cordelia, with +emphasis. + +Genevieve's face turned a sudden, painful red, for some unapparent +reason. + +"Y-yes, it must be," she murmured faintly, as she turned to go. + +On the walk home that noon, Harold, as was frequently the case, overtook +her. + +"Well, what part of the world would you like changed to-day?" he asked, +with a smiling glance at her frowning face. + +"Chiefly, I reckon I'd like no school," sighed Genevieve; "but if I +can't have that, I'd like another box of teachers opened so we could +have a new one." + +"What's the trouble now?" + +"Oh, I reckon the trouble is with me," admitted Genevieve, ruefully. +"Anyhow, Miss Jane would say it was. I flunked in Caesar--but that's no +reason why Miss Hart should have been so disagreeable! But then, I +suppose she has to be. She came out of that kind of a box, you know." + +Harold laughed, though a little gravely. + +"You still think they come all boxed, sorted, and labeled, do you?" he +said. "And that they aren't 'just folks' at all?" + +"Yes, I still think so. They never seem a bit like 'folks' to me. It's +their business to sit up there stiff and solemn and stern, and see that +you behave and learn your lessons. I never saw one that I liked, except +Miss Palmer and Miss Jones--but then, they came out of a jolly box, +anyhow." + +"Lucky ladies!" + +Genevieve laughed rebelliously. + +"Oh, I know I'm horrid," she admitted; "but--well, I went off for a ride +with Tilly yesterday after school, instead of paying attention to his +Imperial Highness, Caesar; and that's what was the trouble. But, Harold, +it was so perfectly glorious out I had to--I just had to! I tell you, +every bit of me was tingling to go! Now what do you suppose Miss Hart +knows of a feeling like that? She simply couldn't understand it." + +"But--Miss Hart doesn't look very old--to me." + +Genevieve stopped short, and turned half around. + +"Old! Why, she's a _teacher_, Harold!" + +Harold chuckled, as they started forward again. + +"I should like to see some teachers' faces if they could hear you say +'teacher' in that tone of voice, young lady!" + +"Pooh! I reckon it would take considerable to make me think of any +teacher as _young_," retorted Genevieve, with emphasis. + +"All right; but--aren't you coming out, later, for a walk or--or +something?" asked Harold, a little anxiously, as they reached the +Kennedy driveway. + +She shook her head. + +"No, little boy," she answered, with mock cheerfulness. "I'm going to +practise, then I'm going to study my algebra, then I'm going to study my +Latin, then I'm going to study my French, then I'm going to study my +English history, then--" + +"_Good-by!_" laughed Harold, clapping his hands to his ears, and +hurrying away. + +Unhesitating as was Genevieve's assertion of her intentions, those +intentions were not carried out, even to the practising, first on the +list; for, in putting down her books, Genevieve dropped some loose +papers to the floor. The papers were some that had that day been +returned by Miss Hart; and, as the girl gathered them up now, a sheet of +note paper, covered with handwriting entirely different from her own, +attracted her attention. + +She recognized the writing at once as that of Miss Hart, and she +supposed at first that the paper must contain some special suggestions +or criticisms in regard to her own work. With a quick frown, therefore, +she began to read it. + +She had not read five lines before she knew that the paper did not +contain criticism or suggestions. But so dazed, so surprised, and so +absorbed was she, by that time, that she quite forgot that she was +reading something most certainly never meant for her eyes to see. + +The paper was evidently the second sheet of a letter. The writing--fine, +but plain--began close to the top of the first page, in what was +apparently the middle of a sentence. + + "speak freely, I am sure. + + "Things are not getting any better, but rather + worse. I cannot seem to win them. Of course I + understood that my task would be difficult, + following, as I did, two such popular teachers. I + think, perhaps, that this very fact has made me + nervous; and so--I have not appeared even at my + best. But, oh, I have tried!--you cannot know how + I have tried! + + "I am nearly sick with terror for fear I shall + lose my position--and of course _that_ doesn't + help me to be the cool, calm, judicious person in + the chair I ought to be. But it means so much to + me--this place--and if I should lose it, there + would be poor Annie deprived of her comforts + again; for, of course, a failure here would mean + that not for a long time (if ever!) could I get + another like it. + + "Forgive me for burdening you with all this, but + it had got to the point where I must speak to some + one. Then, too, I did not know but you could + perhaps tell me why I have failed--I have tried so + hard myself to understand! + + "Sometimes I think I'm too lenient. Sometimes I + think I'm too strict. Sometimes I'm so worried for + fear they'll think me too young and inexperienced, + that I don't dare to act myself at all--then I'm + stiffly dignified in a way that I know must be + horrid. + + "After all, I think the whole secret of the matter + is--that I'm afraid. If once I could have a + confident assurance that I _am_ doing well, and + that I _am_ winning out--I think I should win out. + I do, truly! + + "And now I must stop and go to work. I'm in the + grove, back of the schoolhouse. I often bring my + papers here to correct. I have them with me + to-night; but--I've been writing to you instead of + working. I'll finish this later. But, really, + already I feel a little better. It's done me good, + just to say things to you. Of course, to no one + else could I--" + +There was a little more, but Genevieve stopped here. Not until she read +that last sentence did she realize in the least what she was doing. +Then, hurriedly, with flushed cheeks and shamed eyes, she thrust the +letter out of sight under the papers. But there was something besides +shame in her eyes; there was a very real, and a very tender sympathy +for--folks. + +"And to think that I--read it," she breathed. Then, suddenly, she +snatched up the papers again. "But she mustn't know--she _mustn't_ +know," choked the girl. "Maybe, if I run, I can get there in time and +tuck it into her desk. I _must_ get there in time," she declared aloud, +darting out of the house and up the street without once looking back +toward an amazed Miss Jane, watching her from the window. + +As Genevieve hoped would be the case, the janitor had not finished his +nightly duties. The great front door stood wide open, and Genevieve made +short work of reaching her own room. As she opened that door, however, +she paused in dismay. + +Miss Hart was in her chair. Her arms lay folded on the desk before her, +and her face was hidden in them. + +The knob under Genevieve's nerveless fingers clicked sharply, and Miss +Hart raised her head with a start. + +During the one brief moment that Genevieve gazed into her teacher's +startled eyes, wild plans raced through her mind: she would run; she +would go to her own desk and leave the papers, then destroy the fateful +letter to-morrow; she would walk up and hand the letter to Miss Hart +now, and confess that she had read it; she would-- + +"Why, Genevieve!" cried Miss Hart, a little huskily. "Did you--forget +something?" + +"No, Miss Hart; yes--well, I mean--it isn't that I _forgot_ exactly. +I--I didn't know," she faltered, realizing more than ever the meaning of +the letter she had just read, now that the wistful-eyed writer of it sat +before her, bearing plain evidence of tears. + +"Can I do anything for you?" Miss Hart asked. + +Genevieve went, then, straight to the desk. The papers--with the +letter--were rolled tightly in one hand. + +"No, Miss Hart, thank you; but--isn't there something that--that I can +do for--you?" she faltered. + +What happened next was, to Genevieve, certainly, most disconcerting. +Miss Hart gave one look into Genevieve's eyes, then dropped her face +into her hands and burst into tears. At Genevieve's aghast exclamation, +however, she raised her head determinedly and began to wipe her eyes. + +"There, there, my dear," she smiled brightly, winking off the tears. +"That was very foolish and very silly of me, and you must forget all +about it. I was a little homesick, I'm afraid, and perhaps a bit blue; +and your eyes looked into mine so frankly and honestly, and with such a +courageous 'I'll-try-to-help-you' look, that--that--well, you know what +I did. But come--let us talk no more of this, my dear! Let us get out of +this stifling room, and into the blessed out-of-doors. We'll go into the +grove for a little walk. These four walls have been just smothering me +all day!" + +Genevieve opened wide her eyes. + +"Why, do _you_ feel that way--too?" she asked incredulously. + +Miss Hart colored a little. + +"I'm afraid I do, my dear--though probably I ought not to have said just +that--to you," she sighed constrainedly. "But--to tell the truth, I've +never been able quite to see what houses were made for, I suspect, since +I used to ask that question as a little girl. I imagine 'twas in summer, +however, not winter, when I asked it," she finished a little +tremulously, as they passed through the hall to the outer door. + +Once again Genevieve opened wide her eyes. + +"Did you ask that--really? Why, Father says that was one of _my_ +questions, too," she breathed rapturously. "Why, you are--you are just +like--" with a little cough Genevieve choked off the "folks" before it +was spoken. The word was "me" when it finally left her lips. + +It was a wonderful half-hour that Genevieve spent then in the grove. +Over in the west the sun was low, and the shadows were long under the +trees. The air was crisp, but not too crisp, if one were walking--and +she and Miss Hart were walking. They were talking, too. + +They talked of birds and beasts and flowers. They talked of school and +study, and Latin lessons that were so hard to learn when the +out-of-doors called. They talked of the days and lessons to come; and +they spoke--at least, Miss Hart did--of what fine work Genevieve was +sure to do before the year was through. They did not talk, however, of +Miss Hart's tears in the classroom, nor of Miss Hart's letter still +tightly clutched in Genevieve's hand. + +Genevieve, however, had not forgotten the letter; and when she walked +alone toward home, a little later, she wondered what she should do with +it. To give it openly back to Miss Hart, she felt was not to be thought +of; at the same time she doubted if in any other way she could return it +to her now. The letter certainly had already accomplished two things: +never again would she so misjudge Miss Hart; never again, too, would she +let the others so misjudge her, if she could help it--and she believed +she could help it. She should try, certainly. As for the letter-- + +"Well, Miss," broke in Harold's slightly aggrieved voice behind her, "is +_this_ the way you practise, and study your Latin and your French and +your algebra and your English history?" + +Genevieve was too absorbed even to notice the taunt, much less to reply +to it. + +"Harold," she sighed, "I wish you'd tell me something." + +"Certainly! You have only to command me," bowed the lad, with mock +pomposity, as he fell into step with her. + +Genevieve was frowning. She did not even smile. + +"Harold, if you had something that belonged to somebody else, and they +didn't know you had it and would feel dreadfully if they found out you +had it, do you think you ought to give it back to them, and so let them +know you had it, when all the time if they _didn't_ know you had it, +they wouldn't care at all?" + +"W-w-well!" whistled Harold. "Do you mind--er--giving me that again, +now--say, in pieces a foot long this time? If I were Cordelia I might +give you my answer right off the handle, but--I'm not Cordelia, you +see." + +Genevieve laughed a little ruefully. + +"There wouldn't anybody know, of course, unless I told the rest; and I +can't tell the rest." + +"Maybe not," smiled Harold, oddly; "but I'll wager you'll have to be +telling something to Miss Jane pretty quick now. I saw you when you flew +out of the yard an hour ago, and I fancy Miss Jane must have seen you, +too. At any rate, she's been to the door three times since, to my +knowledge, to look for you." + +Genevieve clapped her hand to her lips. + +"Mercy! I never thought to tell them a word. I just ran." + +"Yes, I noticed you--ran," observed Harold, dryly. + +"And they always want to know just where I am," sighed Genevieve. "O +dear! if you do something bad in order to do something good, which is +it--bad or good?" + +Harold shook his head. + +"That's not in mine, either," he retorted whimsically. "Really, Miss, +your questions on ethics this afternoon do you credit--but they're too +much for me." + +"Well, I reckon this one is for me," sighed Genevieve again, as she came +in sight of the house and saw Miss Jane Chick at the window. "But the +other one--I know the answer to that. I shall burn it up," she said +decisively, clutching even more tightly the roll of papers in her hand, +as she turned in at the Kennedys' front walk. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A TEXAS "MISSIONARY" + + +October passed and November came. School was decidedly more bearable +now, in the opinion of Genevieve, perhaps because it was a rainy month; +but Genevieve preferred to think it was because of Miss Hart. It was +strange, really, how much Miss Hart had improved as a teacher!--all the +school agreed to that. Even Tilly ceased to call her "Hartless." + +"Maybe she came in a jolly box, after all," Harold said one day to +Genevieve; but Genevieve tossed her head. + +"Pooh! She wasn't in any box at all, Harold. She's--_folks_!" And Harold +saw that, in spite of the lightness of her words, there were almost +tears in Genevieve's eyes. + +Presidential duties, too, were easier for Genevieve now. They proved to +be, in fact, very far from arduous; and, as Tilly declared, they were, +indeed, "dreadfully honorable." + +As correspondent for the school magazine Genevieve did not feel herself +to be a success. She wrote few items, and sent in even fewer. + +Those she did write represented hours of labor, however; for she felt +that the weight of nations lay on every word, and she wrote and rewrote +the poor little sentences until every vestige of naturalness and of +spontaneity were taken out of them. Such information as she could gather +seemed always, in her eyes, either too frivolous to be worth notice, or +too serious to be of interest. And ever before her frightened eyes +loomed the bugbear of PRINT. + + * * * * * + +It was during the short vacation of three days at Thanksgiving time that +Nancy, the second girl at the Kennedys', came to the parlor door one +afternoon and interrupted Genevieve's practising. + +"Miss Genevieve, I do be hatin' ter tell ye," she began indignantly, +"but there's a man at the side door on horseback what is insistin' on +seein' of ye; and Mis' Kennedy and Miss Jane ain't home from town yet." + +"Why, Nancy, who is the man?" + +"I ain't sayin' that I know, Miss, but I do say that he is powerful +rough-lookin' to come to the likes o' this house a-claimin' he's Mis' +Granger's cousin, as he does." + +"Reddy! Why, of course I'll see Reddy," cried Genevieve, springing to +her feet. + +A minute later, to Nancy's vast displeasure, Genevieve was ushering into +the sitting room a sandy-haired man in full cowboy costume from +broad-brimmed hat and flannel shirt to chaparejos and high-heeled boots. + +Reddy evidently saw the surprise in Genevieve's face. + +"Yes, I know," he smiled sheepishly, as Nancy left the room with slow +reluctance, "I reckon you're surprised to see me in this rig, and I'll +own I hain't wore 'em much since I came; but to-day, to come to see you, +I just had to. You see, Miss Genevieve, it's what this 'ere rig stands +for that I want to see you about, anyhow." + +"About--this--rig?" + +"Well, yes--in a way. It's about the West." + +"What is it?" + +"It's Martha--Mis' Granger, my cousin. I want her to go back with me. +She's all alone, and so am I. And she'd come in a minute, but +she's--afraid." + +"What of?" + +Reddy's lips twitched. + +"Indians and prairie fires and bucking bronchos and buffaloes. She +thinks all of 'em run 'round loose all the time--in Texas." + +Genevieve laughed merrily. + +"The idea! Haven't you told her they don't?" + +"Oh, yes; and I've come to see if _you_ won't tell her." + +"I!" + +"Yes. She thinks I'm a man and rough anyhow, so I don't count. _Would_ +you be willing to come and talk Texas to her?" + +"Why, of course I will," cried Genevieve. "I'll come right away to-day, +after I've finished my hour." + +"Thank you," sighed Reddy, rising to his feet. "Now I'll hit the trail +for Texas inside of a month--you see if I don't! What _you_ say will +go." + +"Oh, but don't be too sure of that, Reddy," frowned Genevieve, +anxiously. + +"I ain't. I'm just _sure_--and that's all right," retorted Reddy, +cheerfully. "And mighty glad I shall be to get there, too! I'd be plum +locoed here in another month. You see, I've got some money now, and I +know a nice little place I can buy cheap, to start in for myself. +Martha'll take Jim Small's girl, 'Mandy, for company and to help. You +see we've got her already roped." + +"She wants to go, then?" + +"Dyin' to. It all depends on you now, Miss Genevieve." + +"All right; I'll be there," promised the girl, laughingly, as Reddy, +watched by Nancy's disapproving eyes from the kitchen window, swung +himself into the saddle and galloped down the driveway. + +A little later Genevieve met Mrs. Kennedy and Miss Chick at the foot of +the front walk. + +"I've taken my music lesson and done my hour, and I'm off on missionary +work now," she beamed brightly. "I knew you'd let me go, so I didn't +wait till you came home." + +"Missionary work?" frowned Miss Chick. + +"Why, what do you mean?" questioned Mrs. Kennedy. + +Genevieve chuckled. + +"It's to teach Mrs. Granger that Texas has something besides bucking +bronchos and prairie fires. You see, Reddy wants to take her West, and +she's afraid. She thinks those things, and Indians and buffaloes, are +all that grow there. So I'm going to tell her a thing or two," she +finished with a nod and a smile. + +Just how successful Genevieve was with her missionary work perhaps she +herself did not realize until nearly a fortnight later, when Cordelia +Wilson overtook her on the way to school one morning. + +"Genevieve, Genevieve, please," panted Cordelia. "I want you to do some +missionary work for me! Will you?" + +Genevieve turned in surprise. + +"'Missionary work!' What _do_ you mean?" + +Cordelia laughed and colored. + +"Well, it's what you did for Mrs. Granger. Reddy told me. He said you +called it missionary work--and that _'twas_ missionary work, too. You +know they're to start next week, and they're all so happy over it!" + +"Yes, I know," nodded Genevieve; "and I'm so glad!" + +"So am I," sighed the other, fervently. "You see, Reddy being my find, +so, I felt responsible; and of course I ought to feel that way, too. +Just think--what if they weren't happy over it!" + +"But they are," smiled Genevieve. "What's the use of 'if-ing' a thing +when it just _is_ already?" + +"What?" Cordelia's eyes were slightly puzzled. "Oh, I see," she laughed. +"What a funny way you do have of putting things, Genevieve Hartley! Why +don't you say such things as that in your notes for the magazine?" + +"In the magazine?--mercy! Why, Cordelia, they're _printed_!" + +"Well, what of it?" maintained Cordelia. + +"What of what?" chirped a new voice; and Tilly Mack hurried up from +behind them. + +Cordelia looked plainly disappointed; but Genevieve turned with a light +laugh. + +"My magazine notes, Tilly. Cordelia doesn't like them," she explained. + +"Oh, but Genevieve, it's only that I want you to write as you talk," +supplemented Cordelia, in distress. + +"Well, I don't know. I'm sure--aren't they true?" bridled Genevieve. + +"True!" giggled Tilly, suddenly. "Oh, yes, they're true, just as 'c-a-t +spells cat' is true--and they sound just about like that, too, Genevieve +Hartley, and you know it." + +"Humph! I like that," bridled Genevieve, again. + +"Oh, Tilly, she writes lovely notes--you know she does," championed +Cordelia, almost tearfully. + +"No, I don't write lovely notes," disputed Genevieve, with unexpected +frankness. "They're just like Tilly says they are, and they're horrid. I +_do_ say 'c-a-t spells cat' every time--but I simply can't seem to say +anything else!" + +"But why don't you write as you talk?" argued Tilly. + +"Or as you do in the Chronicles?" added Cordelia. "You write just +beautifully there." + +"But, Cordelia, that isn't _printed_," cried Genevieve, again, as they +came in sight of the school building and saw Elsie Martin coming to meet +them. + +At the doorway of the classroom Cordelia whispered to Genevieve: + +"Please wait after school for me. I'll tell you then--about the +missionary work, you know." And Genevieve nodded assent. + +Once or twice during the day, Genevieve wondered what Cordelia's +missionary work could be; but for the most part study and recitation +filled her thoughts and time. Mid-year examinations were approaching, +and, in spite of the fact that she had been doing much better work for +the last month, she felt by no means sure of herself for the dreaded +ordeal. It was of this she was thinking when she met Cordelia according +to agreement at the close of the short afternoon session. + +"Here I am, dear," she sighed; "but, really, I reckon _I'm_ the one that +needs the missionary work if any one does--with those horrid exams +looming up before me." + +"Oh, but you've been doing such splendid work--lately!" cried Cordelia. + +"Thank you," retorted Genevieve, wrinkling up her nose saucily at the +pause before the "lately." "I perceive you still know how to tell the +truth, Miss!" + +"Genevieve!" protested Cordelia. + +"Oh, then you mean it wasn't the truth," bantered her friend. + +"Genevieve!" groaned Cordelia, hopelessly. + +"There, there, never mind," laughed the other. "Come, we must be running +along; then you shall tell me all about this wonderful missionary work +of yours. What is it?" + +"Well, it--it's about another of my--my finds." + +"Oh, your lost people?" + +"Yes. It's John Sanborn, Hermit Joe's son, you know. He wants to go West +and take his father." + +"Well, can't he? Or doesn't his father want to? Maybe you want me to go +and tell Hermit Joe not to be afraid of bronchos and buffaloes," laughed +Genevieve. + +A swift color stole into Cordelia's face. + +"No; Hermit Joe wants to go." + +"Then what is it?" + +Cordelia laughed shyly. + +"Well, it--it's a lady, Genevieve." + +"A lady! Why, Hermit Joe and his son haven't any--any women or cousins, +have they?" + +"No; but--but they want one," admitted Cordelia, a little breathlessly. + +Genevieve stopped short. + +"Cordelia, what _are_ you talking about?" she demanded. + +Cordelia laughed softly, but she grew suddenly very pink indeed, and she +clasped her hands rapturously. + +"I'll tell you, Genevieve. I've been just longing to tell you, every +minute. It's the loveliest thing--just like a book! It seems Hermit +Joe's son, years ago, before he ran away, had a sweetheart, Miss Sally +Hunt." + +"That little old maid on Hunt's Hill? She's a dear, I think!" + +"Yes; but she wasn't old then, you know. She was young, and so pretty! +She showed me her picture, once--how she looked then." + +"Yes, yes--go on!" + +"Well, they were sweethearts, but they had a quarrel or something, +and--anyhow, Mr. John Sanborn ran away." + +"How long ago?" + +"Twenty years; and now he's back, and they've made everything all up +lovely, and he wants to marry her and take her West." + +"Oh-h!" breathed Genevieve. "It _is_ just like a story; isn't it? And +didn't it turn out lovely!" + +"Y-yes, only it hasn't turned out yet." + +"What's the matter? I thought you said they'd made it all up!" + +"They have. She'll marry him; but she--she's afraid of Texas, too, just +as Mrs. Granger was, I guess." + +"Oh, I see," cried Genevieve. "Pooh! We'll fix that in no time," +finished the Texas "missionary," with confidence. + +"There, I knew you would," sighed her friend, blissfully. "You see, I +specially wanted Miss Sally to be happy, because I couldn't find--" +Cordelia caught herself up in time. She must not, of course, tell +Genevieve about Sally Hunt's lost brother whom she had failed to find. +"Well, you know, anyway, Sally Hunt is very poor," she explained +hastily; "and everybody said, when we went to Texas last summer, that +she'd have to go to the Poor Farm soon, if something wasn't done. So +I'm specially glad to have her happy, and--" Cordelia stopped, and +turned to Genevieve with a new look in her eyes. + +"Genevieve, I've just remembered," she cried. "At the ranch last summer, +when I was talking to Mr. Jonathan Edwards and didn't know his name was +'Sanborn'--I've just remembered that I told him about Miss Sally, and +how she'd have to go to the Poor Farm. Genevieve, I'm sure--I just know +that's one reason why he came home!" + +"Of course it was," agreed Genevieve, excitedly; "and we'll go straight +up there now, if Aunt Julia'll let us; only--" her face fell--"Cordelia, +when _shall_ I get in my studying?" + +"To-night, Genevieve; you must study to-night," answered Cordelia, +firmly. "You mustn't sacrifice your studies, even for missionary work. +Uncle always says it isn't right to send money to the heathen when your +own child is hungry; and I'm sure this is the same thing. Maybe we can +go Saturday morning, though," she finished hopefully. + +"I'm sure we can," declared Genevieve; "and I'm just as excited as I can +be. I just love missionary work," she exulted, as she waved her hand in +farewell, at her street corner. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +GENEVIEVE GOES TO BOSTON + + +December was a busy month, indeed. To Genevieve it seemed actually to be +one whirl of study, lessons, practice, and examinations, leaving oh, so +little time for Christmas gifts and plans. + +A big box was to go to the Six Star Ranch, and a smaller one to +Quentina. But, better than all, Mr. Jones was to have a letter from Mrs. +Kennedy which would--Genevieve was sure--carry a wonderful happiness to +Quentina. Mrs. Kennedy was to ask Mr. Jones to let Quentina come to +Sunbridge to school the next winter, and share Genevieve's room, as Mrs. +Kennedy's guest. All other expenses, railroad fare, school supplies, and +any special instruction, were to be met by Mr. Hartley through Genevieve +herself. + +All this, of course, Genevieve had not brought about without many +letters to Mr. Hartley, and many talks with Mrs. Kennedy and Miss Chick, +wherein all sorts of pleadings and promises had a part. But it had been +done at last, and the letter was to go in the Christmas box--but of all +this the Happy Hexagons were not to know until the answer from Mr. +Jones came. Naturally, however, Genevieve could not keep all her +attention on her studies that month, in spite of the coming +examinations. + +There was, too, more than one visit to the gentle spinster on Hunt's +Hill before Genevieve quite succeeded in convincing Miss Sally that +there _were_ places in Texas where wild Indians did not prowl, nor wild +horses race neck and neck across vast deserts of loneliness. At last, +however, she had the satisfaction of hearing from John Sanborn's own +grateful lips that everything was all right, and that the wedding day +was set for April the tenth. + +In the midst of all this came the dreaded examinations, then the fearful +waiting till the last day of school when the decision would be +announced. The winter before, at these mid-year examinations, Genevieve +had not passed. She had not forgotten the mortification of that tragedy, +nor the weary weeks of study that had been necessary to enable her to go +on with her class. So she, of all the girls now, was awaiting the +verdict with special anxiety. Meanwhile, all the Happy Hexagons were +spending every available minute on Christmas gifts. + +It was just a week before Christmas Day that Genevieve was surprised to +receive a hurried after-school call from Cordelia. + +"Genevieve--quick!" panted Cordelia, dropping herself into the first +chair she came to. "Can't we do something? We _must_ do something!" + +"Of course we can," laughed Genevieve, promptly; "but--what about?" + +Cordelia gave a faint smile. + +"Yes, I know; I wasn't very explicit," she sighed. "But, listen. You +know--or maybe you didn't know--but the Missionary Society have been +packing a barrel to go West. They're at the church this afternoon, +packing it; but they didn't have half enough, and they sent down to the +parsonage to know if Aunt Mary hadn't something more--some old clothes +of the children's, or old magazines, or anything. Auntie's sick to-day +with an awful cold, but she went up attic and hunted up all she could; +then after I got home from school she asked me to take them down to the +church." + +"Yes, go on," prompted Genevieve, as Cordelia paused for breath. + +"Well, I took them; and, Genevieve, what do you think?"--Cordelia's +voice was tragic--"that missionary barrel was going to the Rev. Luke +Jones, Bolo, Texas. _Our_ Mr. Jones,--Quentina!" + +"Cordelia! Really?" + +"Yes. You know they told us they got them from our church sometimes. +And, Genevieve, it was awful--that barrel! It looked just like the other +one, the one they got while we were there that day--old shoes and +dolls, and _homely_ things!" + +"Oh, Cordelia! What did you do?" + +Cordelia drew in her breath with a little gasp. + +"I don't know. I talked. I said things--awful things. I know they were +awful things from the looks of some of their faces. And at the last Mrs. +Johnson--you _know_ how she can be sometimes!--she--she just snapped +out: 'Very well, Miss Cordelia, if you are not satisfied with what we +have been able to procure after weeks of hard work, suppose you go out +yourself and solicit gifts for your friends!' And, Genevieve, I said I +would. And I turned 'round and marched out. And now--now--what _shall_ +we do?" + +Genevieve sprang to her feet. + +"Do? Why, we'll do it, of course," she cried. + +"But, Genevieve, I'm so scared. What if folks won't give--anything? +Those women worked weeks--they said they did--for what they've got!" + +"But folks _will_ give," declared Genevieve, with prompt confidence. +"Now wait. I'll have to tell Aunt Julia where I'm going, then I'll be +back ready to start," she finished, as she whisked out of the room. + +"Oh, Genevieve, you're always so comfortingly _sure_," sighed Cordelia +to the door through which her friend had just sped. + +During the next two hours Sunbridge, as represented by many of its most +staid and stately homes, received the surprise of its life--a surprise +that sent hitherto complacently contented women scurrying into attics +and closets, and stirred reputedly miserly men into thrusting hands into +inside pockets for spare bills. + +Perhaps it was the sight of the eager young faces, alight with generous +enthusiasm. Perhaps it was the pathos of the story of one missionary +barrel as told by girlish lips trembling with feeling. Perhaps it was +just the novelty of receiving so direct, and so confident an appeal for +"something you'd like to have given to you, you know." Perhaps it was a +little of all three that worked the miracle. At all events, in the +church parlor some time later, a little band of excited, marveling women +worked until far into the evening packing a missionary barrel for the +Rev. Luke Jones. And when it left their hands, there was in it the +pretty dress for the minister's wife, the unworn underclothing for the +minister's boys, the fresh hair-ribbons for the minister's daughter, and +the serviceable coat for the minister himself, to say nothing of +uncounted books, games, and household articles of a worth and +desirability likely to make a missionary minister's family exclaim with +surprise and delight--until they found the generous roll of bills in the +minister's coat pocket, when they would be dumb with a great wave of +reverent gratitude to a God who could make human hearts so kind. + +"There!" sighed Genevieve, when she and Cordelia had left their last +parcels at the church door. "I reckon we've got something different for +that barrel now--but we'll never let Quentina know, _never_--that we had +a thing to do with packing it." + +"No; but I guess she'll suspect it, though," returned Cordelia, with a +teary smile. "But, oh, Genevieve, didn't they give just splendidly!" + +"I knew they would," declared Genevieve, "if they just understood." + +"Well, then, I wish they'd--understand oftener," sighed Cordelia, as she +turned down her street. + +Two days later the Happy Hexagons were holding a hurried meeting at the +parsonage after school. It was the night before the last day of the +term, and they were all trying to work at once on the sofa pillow they +had planned to give Miss Hart. Cordelia was making the tassel for one +corner, and Alma Lane one for another. The other two tassels were being +sewed on by Elsie and Bertha. Tilly was writing the card to go with it, +and Genevieve was holding the paper and ribbon with which to do it up. + +"I'm going to do as Miss Jane does, next year," sighed Genevieve, at +last. + +"And what does Miss Jane do?" asked Tilly. + +"Begins in January to get ready for Christmas. Now I've got exactly +seventy-nine and one things to do before next Tuesday--and to-day is +Thursday." + +"You must have spent part of your valuable time counting them," teased +Tilly, "to have figured them down so fine as that." + +"Seventy-nine and one are eighty," observed Cordelia, with a little +frown. "Why didn't you say eighty to begin with, Genevieve?" + +"Because she wanted to give your brain something to do, too," explained +Tilly, wearing an exaggeratedly innocent air. + +"Tilly!" scolded Genevieve. But Tilly only laughed, and Cordelia forgot +her question with the last stitch she put into her tassel. + +The pillow was given to Miss Hart the next day, and, apparently, made +the lady very happy. Nor was Miss Hart the only one that was made happy +that day. Genevieve, and in fact, all the Happy Hexagons, together with +O. B. J. Holmes and nearly all the rest of the class, knew before night +that they had "passed"--which is no small thing to know, when for days +you have worried and for nights you have dreamed about the dreadful +alternative of a contrary verdict. + +With Miss Jane Chick, Genevieve went to Boston shopping, Saturday, +coming back tired, but happy, and all aglow with the holiday rush and +color of the crowded streets and stores. On Sunday came the beautiful +Christmas service, which Mr. Wilson made very impressive. Certainly it +touched Genevieve's heart deeply, as she sat by Mrs. Kennedy's side and +listened to it. It seemed so easy to Genevieve, at that moment, always +to be good and brave and true--always to be thoughtful of others' +wishes--never to be heedless, careless, or impulsively reckless of +consequences! + +It was snowing when she left the church, and it snowed hard all the +afternoon and until far into the night. Genevieve awoke to look out on a +spotlessly white, crystal-pure world, with every ugly line and dreary +prospect changed into fairylike beauty. + +"Oh--oh--oh, isn't it lovely!" she exclaimed, as she came into the +dining-room that morning. "Don't I wish Quentina were here to see +it--and to talk about it!" + +"We'll hope she will be some day," smiled Mrs. Kennedy. + +"Anyhow, 'Here's Miss Jane at the window-pane' all ready for her," +chanted Genevieve, merrily, her eyes on the tall figure in the bay +window. + +Miss Jane turned with a sigh. + +"Yes, it's very lovely, of course, Genevieve--but I must confess it +isn't lovely to me this morning." + +"Why, Miss Jane!" + +"I had planned to go to Boston. In fact it seems as if I must go. But I +have waked up with a sore throat and every evidence of a bad cold; and +I'm afraid I don't dare to go--not with all this new snow on the ground +and dampness in the air." + +"Couldn't I go, Miss Jane? I was going to ask to go, anyway. I find +there are three more things I want to get, and I know I can't find them +here." + +"But you have never been to Boston alone, my dear." + +"I suppose everybody has to have a first time," laughed Genevieve; "and +I'm not a mite afraid. Besides, I know the way perfectly, all through +the shopping district; and all I have to do then is just to take the car +for the North Station and the train home. I reckon I know how to do +_that_ all right!" + +Miss Jane frowned and shook her head slowly. + +"I know; but--I hate to let you do it, Genevieve, only I--it seems as if +I _must_ go myself!" + +Mrs. Kennedy looked up reassuringly. + +"Indeed, Jane, I am inclined to think Genevieve can go all right," she +smiled. "She has been to Boston now many times, you know." + +"There, Miss Jane!" crowed Genevieve, triumphantly. "You see! Please, +now," she begged. + +Miss Jane still frowned--but a look of almost reluctant relief came to +her eyes. + +"Very well," she conceded slowly. "Perhaps, my dear, I will let you go +for me, then." + +"Oh, thank you, Miss Jane--besides, there are several things I want for +myself." + +"Very well, dear. I have three things that must be changed, and there +are two that I want you to buy. It seems so absurd--when I began last +January--that there should be anything to be done to-day; but, +unfortunately, some of my plans had to be changed at the last moment. +You may get ready at once after breakfast, please, then come to my room. +I'll have the list all made out for you. You'll have to bring everything +home, of course, but they are not very heavy, and you can carry them all +in the large hand bag, I think. You'd better take the nine-four train." + + * * * * * + +It was not quite half-past ten when Genevieve arrived in the great +Boston station that morning. She glanced importantly at her pretty +little watch, took a firmer hold on the large leather bag she carried, +and stepped briskly off toward her car. + +It was delightful--this independent feeling of freedom. Even to pay her +fare and to signal the conductor to stop were Events. Shopping, all by +herself, was even more delightful; so she dallied over every purchase +and every exchange as long as she could--and it was not hard to dally, +with the crowds, the long waits, and the delays for change. + +At one o'clock, when in state she ate her luncheon at a pretty white +table in a large department-store dining-room, she had not half +finished her task. She was so glad there was still so much to do! But at +four o'clock, when she did finish, she looked at her watch with faintly +troubled eyes. She had not, indeed, realized that it was quite so late. +She remembered, too, suddenly, for the first time, that Miss Chick had +told her to come back early. She wondered--could she catch the +four-twenty train? + +Stores and sidewalks were a mass of surging, thronging humanity now, and +progress was slow and uncertain. When, at ten minutes past four, she had +not succeeded even in reaching her car for the station, she gave up the +four-twenty train. Well, there was one at five-fifteen, she comforted +herself. She could surely get that. + +The streets were darkening fast, and lights were beginning to flash here +and there, finding a brilliant response in tinsel stars and crystal +pendants. With the Christmas red and green, and the thronging crowds, it +made a pretty sight; and Genevieve stopped more than once just to look +about her with a deep breath of delight. It was at such a time that she +saw the small ragged boy, and the still smaller, still more ragged girl +wistfully gazing into the fairyland of a toyshop window. + +"I choose the fire engine, the big red one," she heard a shrill voice +pipe; and she looked down to see that it was the boy's blue lips that +had uttered the words. + +"I d-druther have that d-doll," chattered the mite of a girl; "an' that +teeny little bedstead an' the chair what rocks, an' the baby trunk, an' +the doll with curly hair, an'--" + +"Gee! look at the autymobile," cut in the boy, excitedly. "Say, if I had +that--" + +"Well, you shall have it, you poor little mite,--or one just like it," +cried Genevieve impulsively, sweeping the astonished children into the +circle of her arm, and hurrying them into the store. + +They did not get the "autymobile" nor yet the engine nor the big doll. +Genevieve selected them, to be sure, with blithe promptness; but when +she took out her purse, she found she had not half money enough to pay +for them, which mortified and disappointed her greatly. + +"Dear, dear!" she laughed, blushing painfully. "I'm afraid I can't +manage it, after all, chickabiddies. That horrid money of mine has given +out! I bought more things than I meant to, anyhow. Never mind, we'll get +all we can," she cried, emptying her little purse on the counter, even +shaking it to make sure no lurking penny stayed behind. "There, you'll +have to make that do," she said to the amazed clerk behind the counter. +"Just please give them whatever you can for that." And the clerk, +counting out one dollar and eighty-three cents, obeyed her literally. + +A few minutes later, two dazed, but blissfully happy children clasping +in their arms a motley array of toys, and a laughing, bright-faced girl +with a tan leather bag, joined the hurrying throng on the street. + +"Good-by, chickabiddies, and good luck to you," called Genevieve, waving +her hand in farewell to the children, as she spied her car in the +distance. + +"Poor little midgets!" thought Genevieve, as she stepped on to the car; +"I don't think now they really believe they've got those things. But I +do wish I could have bought all those first things they selected!" A +moment later she took out her purse to pay her fare. + +The conductor, coming toward her just then, saw her face turn red, then +white. The next minute she was on her feet, hurrying toward him. + +"Fare, please," he said mechanically, holding out his hand. + +She shook her head. + +"I--I don't want this car," she stammered faintly. "If you'll--stop, +please." A moment later she rushed blindly through the door and down the +steps to the street. + +Genevieve was thoroughly angry, and very much ashamed. + +"Now I reckon I've done it," she muttered half aloud. "No wonder they +say I never stop to think! Seems to me I might have thought to save a +nickel for my car-fare, though! Never mind, I'll walk it. Serves me +right, anyhow, I reckon!" And determinedly she turned toward a woman +near her and asked the way to the North Station. + +It would be something of a walk, the woman said, as she gave directions; +but Genevieve declared she did not mind that. Very courageously, +therefore, she turned a corner and began to thread her way among the +crowd. + +She was laughing now. This thing was something of a joke, after all. +Still, she was rather sorry it had happened--on Miss Jane's errand. She +would be late home, too. (She pulled aside the lapel of her coat and +glanced at her watch.) Five o'clock, already! It would be late, indeed, +if she could not catch the five-fifteen! Still, there must be other +trains, of course, and it took only an hour and twenty minutes to go-- + +Genevieve stopped with a little cry of dismay. She remembered now that +she had used the last of the commutation tickets. Miss Jane had told her +to get a single-fare ticket for the return trip. And now--pray, how was +one to buy any sort of fare without any money? + +A hurrying man jostled her, and Genevieve stepped into a doorway to +think. Across the street a blue-bell-sign caught her attention, and sent +a swift light to her eye. + +[Illustration: "IT WOULD BE SOMETHING OF A WALK, THE WOMAN SAID, AS SHE +GAVE DIRECTIONS"] + +Why, of course! She would telephone for Aunt Julia to send Nancy or +somebody in with some money. Why had she not thought of it before? + +She had pushed her way half across the crowded street when it occurred +to her that she needed money to pay the telephone toll. + +"I never saw such a place! It takes money to do everything! I just hate +cities," she stormed hotly--then jumped just in time to escape the +wheels of a swiftly-moving automobile. + +Safely back in the doorway, she tried to think once more. Then, slowly, +she began to retrace her steps toward the corner from which she had +started. + +The crowds were just as gay, the Christmas reds and greens just as +brilliant, and the tinsel stars and crystal pendants were just as +sparkling; but Genevieve did not even look at them now. She was tired, +ashamed, and thoroughly frightened. The bag, too, began to seem woefully +full, and her stomach correspondingly empty. + +Curiously enough, after a time, the Christmas service of the day before +rang in her ears. It seemed so far away now. And yet--it was only +yesterday that she had been promising herself never again to be +thoughtless, heedless, or impulsively reckless of consequences. And +now-- + +Suddenly she almost smiled. She was thinking of her question to Harold: + +"If you do something bad to do something good, which is it, good or +bad?" + +One by one the minutes passed. It grew darker and colder. At times +Genevieve walked on aimlessly. At others, she stood one side, watching +the crowds, hoping to find some man or woman whom she could dare to ask +for money. But her cheeks burned at the thought, and she never saw the +man or woman whom she wanted to ask--for money. That the blue-coated man +at the street-crossing might help her, never occurred to Genevieve. +Genevieve knew policemen only as vaguely dreadful creatures connected +with jails and arrests. + +In time it came to be quite dark. Genevieve wondered what would become +of her--by midnight. People did not starve or die, she supposed, in +Boston streets--not when the streets were as bright as these. But she +_must_ get to Sunbridge. _Sunbridge!_ How worried they must be about her +now in Sunbridge, and how she wished she were there! She would be glad +to see even Miss Jane's severest frown--if she could see Miss Jane, too! + +It was six o'clock when Genevieve suddenly remembered Mr. and Mrs. +Thomas Butterfield. She wondered then how it was possible that she had +forgotten them so long. + +Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Butterfield were two friends of Mrs. Kennedy's not +very far from sixty years old. They lived in a quaint old house on Mt. +Vernon Street, on top of Beacon Hill--Genevieve thought she remembered +the number. She remembered the house very well, for she had called +there twice with Mrs. Kennedy the winter before. + +It was with a glad little cry that Genevieve now turned to the first +woman she met and asked the way to Mt. Vernon Street. + + * * * * * + +In the somber Butterfield dining-room on Mt. Vernon Street, Mr. and Mrs. +Thomas Butterfield had almost finished dinner, when their pompous, +plainly scandalized butler, standing beneath the severest of the severe +Butterfield portraits, announced stiffly: + +"There's a young person at the door, ma'am, with a bag. She says she +knows you, if you'll see her, please." + +One minute later, the astonished Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Butterfield caught +in their arms a white-faced, almost fainting girl, who had sobbed out: + +"Please, won't you give me a little money and some supper, and telephone +to Aunt Julia!" + +Seven minutes later Mr. Thomas Butterfield had Mrs. Kennedy at the other +end of the wire. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +A BROWN DRESS FOR ELSIE + + +Christmas, for Genevieve, was not a happy time that year; and when the +day was over she tried to forget it as soon as possible. + +She had stayed all night with the Butterfields--which had not been +unalloyed joy; for, though they obviously tried to be kind to her, yet +they could not help showing that they regarded her sudden appearance +among them, dinnerless and moneyless, as most extraordinary, and +certainly very upsetting to the equanimity of a well-ordered household. + +In the morning she went back to Sunbridge. At the house she found Miss +Chick ill. Her cold, and her fright over Genevieve, had sent her into a +high fever; and Mrs. Kennedy was scarcely less ill herself. + +Certainly it was not exactly a cheerful Christmas Day for the one whose +heedlessness had brought it all about. But Genevieve mourned so +bitterly, and blamed herself so strongly, that at last, out of sheer +pity, Mrs. Kennedy, and even Miss Jane Chick, had to turn comforter; +for--as Mrs. Kennedy reminded her sister--it was, after all, aside from +her thoughtless lack of haste, only Genevieve's unselfish forgetfulness +of her own possible wants that led to the whole thing. Then, and not +until then, did Genevieve bestow some attention upon her Christmas +presents, of which there were a generous number. + +Fortunately no one outside the house had known of Genevieve's +nonappearance that Christmas Eve, so she was spared any curious +questions and interested comments from others of the Happy Hexagons. + +The short Christmas vacation sped rapidly. The young people spent much +of it on the river, skating, when the ice was good. Genevieve, it is +true, was not often seen there. Genevieve was playing nurse these days, +and so devotedly attentive to Miss Jane Chick was she, that both the +ladies had almost to scold her, in order to make her take needed +exercise. Even Harold Day reproached her one morning, when he met her +coming from the post-office. + +"You don't let any of us see anything of you--not anything," he +complained. "And you look as if you were doing penance, or +something--you've got such a superior expression!" + +Genevieve dimpled into a sudden laugh. + +"Maybe I am," she retorted. "Maybe I did something bad so I could do +something good; and now I'm trying to do enough good to take out all the +taste of the bad." + +"Well, what do you mean by that, Miss Mystery?" + +She would not tell him. She only shook her head saucily, and ran into +the house. + +By New Year's Day Miss Jane seemed almost like her old self, and +Genevieve was specially happy, for on that night Harold Day gave the +first dance of the season; and, with Miss Jane better, and her own heart +lighter once more, she could give herself up to full enjoyment of the +music, fun, and laughter. + +All the Happy Hexagons were there, together with O. B. J. Holmes, +Charlie Brown, and many other of the young people, including even Tilly +Mack's big brother, Howard, who--though quite twenty-one--was a prime +favorite with the Happy Hexagons. + +Genevieve was wonderfully happy that evening. Never had the music +sounded so entrancing; never had her own feet felt so light. With Harold +she "opened the ball," as Tilly airily termed it; then Charlie and O. B. +J. had their turn. + +"Oh, Genevieve, you do look just too sweet for anything in that pale +pink," panted Elsie, stopping at her side between dances. + +"Not any sweeter than you do in that white," tossed back Genevieve, +affectionately. + +Elsie sighed. + +"I love this white, too, but it's got kind of frazzled now. Aunt Kate +says she is going to make over Fannie's brown silk for Miss Sally's +wedding," she went on, sighing again. + +"I'm sure that will be nice," rejoined Genevieve, with hasty politeness. + +"Y-yes," admitted Elsie; "only brown sounds kind of hot for April. +Still, I suppose I ought not to mind. Just one girl wore it, anyhow, so +it'll be faded even, and I sha'n't look like two folks in it," she +finished wistfully, as Howard Mack came up to claim his dance with +Genevieve. + +It was three days after the party that there came a letter from Mr. +Jones in reply to Mrs. Kennedy's Christmas note. It was a very grateful +letter, but it was a disappointing one. It said that Mr. Jones did not +see how he could let Quentina accept the kind invitation of Mrs. Kennedy +and Genevieve. All the way through it, very plainly was shown the +longing of a man who desires advantages for his daughter, and the pride +of one who cannot bear that outsiders should give them to her. + +Mrs. Kennedy saw this--and wrote another letter. In due time came the +answer; and again Genevieve almost cried with disappointment. But Mrs. +Kennedy smiled and comforted her. + +"Yes, he says 'no,' I'll admit, Genevieve; but I don't think it's quite +so strong a 'no' as it was before. One of these days I think I'll write +Mr. Jones another letter, my dear--but not just now. We'll let him +think a little--of how good it would have been for Quentina if he'd said +'yes.'" + +Genevieve gave Mrs. Kennedy a big hug. + +"Aunt Julia, you're a dear, and a veritable Solomon for wisdom. I'm +going to write at once to the President, too. Your place is in the +diplomatic service, I'm sure," she finished, as she danced from the +room. + +As January passed and February came, a new subject came uppermost in the +thoughts of the Hexagon Club. For the first time in years there was to +be a prize contest in the Sunbridge High School. The principal, Mr. +Jackson, was to give a five-dollar gold piece to the writer of the best +essay, subject to be chosen by the author. + +"Well, I sha'n't try for it," announced Tilly on a Saturday afternoon +late in February, as the Hexagon Club were holding their regular meeting +at the parsonage. + +"Why not?" asked Elsie. + +"Because I don't like defeat well enough," retorted Tilly. "Imagine _me_ +winning a prize contest!" + +"Oh, I shall try," almost groaned Cordelia. "I shall always try for +things, I suppose, till I die. I think I ought to; but of course I +sha'n't win it. Dear me! How I would love to, though," she cried, almost +under her breath. + +Genevieve, looking at her momentarily illumined face, was conscious of +a sudden fierce wish that Cordelia might win that prize. + +"Genevieve, of course, will try," she heard Tilly's teasing voice say, +then. "Genevieve loves to write, so!" + +Genevieve turned with a laugh, and an uptilted chin. + +"I take it, Miss Mack, that your very complimentary remarks refer to my +magazine notes; but just let me assure you that this prize essay is +quite another matter. _That_ isn't _printed_!" + +"Then you _are_ going to try?--of course you are," interposed Bertha. + +Genevieve laughed lightly as she reached for a piece of fudge. + +"I suppose so. I'm afraid everybody will expect me to. Aunt Julia has +already expressed her opinion of the matter." + + * * * * * + +February passed, and March came. A new topic of conversation now arose, +specially of interest to the Hexagon Club. Miss Sally was to be married +early in April, and the Happy Hexagons were to be bridesmaids. +Naturally, even the new prize contest had to step one side for that +month, in the minds of the six joyously excited girls. + +It was on a particularly windy Saturday toward the end of the month, +that Cordelia literally blew up to the Kennedys' front door and rang the +bell. + +Genevieve herself, passing through the hall, opened the door. + +"Br-r-r!" she laughed, as she banged the door shut after admitting the +whirling draperies from which Cordelia's anxious little face finally +emerged. "Why, Cordelia!" + +"Yes, I know; I'm going to be at the club this afternoon, of course," +panted Cordelia; "but this is for something I wanted to say to you--and +I knew there wouldn't be a chance this afternoon. It--it's private, +Genevieve." + +"Good! I love secrets. Come into the sitting room. There's no one there +this morning. Now, what is it?" she demanded, as soon as Cordelia's coat +was off, and they were comfortably seated. + +"It--I suppose you might call it missionary work, Genevieve," smiled +Cordelia, wistfully. + +"_More_ missionary work? Who in the world wants to go to Texas now?" +laughed Genevieve. + +"Nobody. It isn't Texas at all. It's--Elsie." + +"Elsie!" + +"Yes. Of course, dear, I don't know as you can do anything; but you've +done so many things, and I'm sure if you could, it _would_ be missionary +work of the very nicest kind." + +"What _are_ you talking about?" + +Cordelia drew a long sigh. + +"I'll tell you. You know the rest of us bridesmaids are all going to +wear white, but--but Elsie's got to wear Fannie's brown silk." + +"I know," nodded Genevieve. "Elsie told me." + +"But, Genevieve, just think--brown silk for a bridesmaid at a wedding, +when all the rest of us wear white! Besides, Elsie says brown is so +hot-looking for April. She feels awfully about it." + +"Can't she do something? I should think she'd tell her aunt." + +"She has. But her aunt doesn't seem to understand. She says that the +brown silk is whole and good, and far too valuable to throw away; and +that it's all just Elsie's notion that she'd rather wear white." + +"Oh, but if she'd only understand!" + +"But that's just it--she doesn't understand. And it isn't as if they +were poor," argued Cordelia, earnestly. "Now auntie has to make over +things, of course, for me and for Edith and Rachel, and we expect it, +and don't mind. We're all glad to be economical and help out, for we +know it's necessary. But it's different with Elsie. She _says_ she +wouldn't mind so, if they were poor and had to. But the Gales are real +well off--Fannie and the twins have lots of new clothes. Poor Elsie says +sometimes it seems as if her aunt actually bought things for them, so +she _could_ make them over for her. Elsie says she's never so happy as +when she's doing it, and that she makes a regular game of it--cutting +them out and putting them together--like picture puzzles, you know." + +Genevieve laughed, though she frowned, too. + +"But what can I do?" she demanded. "I tried, once, to--to lend Elsie a +dress; but she was horrified." + +"Mercy! Of course she was," shuddered Cordelia. "I don't know _what_ +Mrs. Gale would do if she knew that! They're fearfully--er--er--proud, I +suppose you call it," hesitated the conscientious Cordelia. + +"But what _can_ I do?" + +"I don't know; but don't you suppose you could--could say something, +somehow, to Mrs. Gale that--that would make her understand?" + +"Why, Cordelia Wilson, of course I couldn't," gasped Genevieve, +indignantly. "A pretty picture I'd make going to Mrs. Gale and saying: +'Madam, why don't you give your niece a new dress when you know she +wants one?'" + +"N-no, I suppose you couldn't do that, of course," sighed the other. +"Very likely you couldn't do anything, anyway. It's only that I +thought--well, I knew you were going home with Elsie after school Monday +night to study; and I didn't know but you'd get a chance to say +something. But I suppose, after all, there won't be anything you could +say." + +"No, I suppose there won't," echoed Genevieve, still plainly appalled +at the task Cordelia had set for her. + +"Well, it's only that I was so sorry for Elsie," sighed Cordelia, as she +rose to go. + +"Of course! I reckon we're all sorry for Elsie," sighed Genevieve in her +turn. + +And she was sorry. All the rest of the morning she kept thinking how +very sorry she was; and when afternoon came, and when she saw Elsie's +lips quiver and her eyes fill with tears, as the others happily +discussed whether they would wear colored sashes or white belts with +their white dresses, Genevieve's heart quite overflowed with sympathy +for Elsie. And she wondered if, after all, it were possible to make +Elsie's aunt--understand. Determinedly, then, she declared to herself +that, regardless of consequences, she would try--if she had the +opportunity. + +Genevieve's opportunity came very soon after she arrived at Elsie's home +Monday afternoon. Even Genevieve herself had to admit that she could not +have had a better one. But so frightened was she that she wished--for a +moment--that there were none. Then before her rose a vision of Elsie's +tear-dimmed eyes and quivering lips--and with a quick-drawn breath +Genevieve rose and followed Mrs. Gale to the sewing-room. + +"Come with me," Mrs. Gale had said to Genevieve--Genevieve had picked up +a scrap of brown silk from the floor. "That's a piece of the dress I'm +making for Elsie to wear to the wedding. The silly child has got a +notion she wants white, but you'll think this is pretty, I'm sure." And +it was then that Genevieve knew her opportunity had come. + +In the sewing-room Mrs. Gale proudly spread the silk dress over a +chair-back. + +"There! What do you think of that?" she demanded. + +Genevieve's heart beat so loudly she thought Mrs. Gale must hear it. + +"It--it's very pretty, isn't it?" she stammered, wetting her dry lips +and wondering what good it did to say that. + +"Pretty? Of course it is. It's silk, and a fine piece--I thought when I +got it how splendidly it would make over. I'm sure any girl ought to be +proud to wear it!" + +Genevieve caught her breath sharply. "Proud"--Mrs. Gale had said +"proud"; and Cordelia had said, that morning, that Mrs. Gale herself was +very proud, and that she would be very angry if she knew that Genevieve +had offered Elsie a dress to wear. In a flash of inspiration, then, came +a wild plan to Genevieve's mind. If only she had the audacity to carry +it out! + +She wet her lips again, and took desperate hold of her courage. Even as +she did so, she almost smiled--she was thinking: was this another case +when she was doing something bad to do something good? Never mind; she +must go through with it now. She _must_! + +"Yes, it is a very pretty dress, indeed," she stammered; "and it was +Fannie's, too, wasn't it?" + +Mrs. Gale beamed. + +"Yes!--and didn't I get it out finely? You know sleeves are smaller, so +that helped, and the breadths were so full last year! I think I never +got a dress out better," she finished proudly. + +Genevieve touched the folds lightly. + +"And this isn't faded at all, is it?" she murmured pleasantly. + +"What?" Mrs. Gale's voice was a little sharp. + +Genevieve wet her lips twice this time before she could speak. + +"I say, isn't it nice that this one isn't faded? You know Elsie had such +a time with that chambray last summer!" + +"What do you mean, please?" There was no doubt now about the sharpness +in Mrs. Gale's voice. + +Genevieve managed a laugh--but it was not a very mirthful one. + +"Why, 'twas so funny, you know; it was made from the twins' dresses, and +they weren't faded alike. It was just as Elsie said--she didn't know +whether to turn Cora or Clara toward folks. It _was_ funny; only, of +course it did plague poor Elsie awfully, and I felt so sorry for her." + +"You felt sorry--_sorry_ for _my niece_?" The voice was so very angry +this time that Genevieve trembled. She was sure now that it was +bad--this thing she was doing--that good might come. But she kept +bravely on. + +"Why, yes, of course; all of us girls were sorry for her. You know Elsie +does so love new dresses, and of course she doesn't have them very +often. Last summer, when she was feeling so bad over her chambray, I--I +offered her one of mine, but--" + +"You--you offered my niece one of _your_ dresses?" gasped Mrs. Gale. + +"Yes, but she wouldn't take it; and, of course, _that_ wasn't _new_, +either," finished Genevieve, with what she hoped would pass for a light +laugh as she turned away. + +Behind her, for a moment, there was an ominous silence. Then a very +quiet voice said: + +"Thank you; but I hardly think my niece needs one of your dresses--yet, +Miss Genevieve." + +Genevieve fled then, ashamed, and very near to crying. + +"I wouldn't have said it, of course," she whispered to herself as she +stumbled back to the sitting-room; "I wouldn't have said it if the Gales +had been poor and _couldn't_ have given Elsie new things to wear once in +a while!" + +In the Chronicles of the Hexagon Club a fortnight later, it was Elsie +Martin who wrote the account of Miss Sally's wedding. She wrote as +follows: + +"I had a beautiful white dress for Miss Sally's wedding--a brand-new +one. All of us girls wore white and looked so pretty--I mean, the rest +looked pretty, of course. Miss Sally was married the tenth of April. It +was quite a warm day, and I was so glad I did not have to wear my brown +silk. Aunt Kate says I needn't wear it anywhere if I don't want to--and +after all her work, too! I don't know what has got into Aunt Kate, +anyway, lately. She doesn't seem half so interested in making over +things, and I have three other brand-new dresses, a pink-sprigged +muslin, and--but, dear me! This isn't telling about Miss Sally's wedding +one bit. + +"She was married at four o'clock, and looked too sweet for anything in +light gray silk with a pink carnation in her hair. Everybody went, and +wore their best things and looked very nice. We had sandwiches and +chicken salad and olives and three kinds of cake and ice cream for +refreshments. The ice cream was the brick kind, different colors, like +lovely striped ribbon. + +"At six o'clock they started for Boston to begin their journey West, and +we all stood on the steps and gave them a lovely send-off with rice and +old shoes. Just at the last minute Tilly says, 'Let's give her our +Texas yell, and end with "Miss Sally,"' and we did. And everybody +laughed and clapped. But not until the carriage drove off did we +suddenly remember that she wasn't 'Miss Sally' at all any more, and we +felt ashamed. + +"And that's all--except that Miss Sally's going-away gown was gray, +too." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +"WHEN SUNBRIDGE WENT TO TEXAS" + + +By the first of May many of the papers for the new prize contest had +been turned in. Genevieve's, however, had not. Genevieve was working +very hard on her essay now. For some time she had not found a subject +that suited her. Good subjects were not very plentiful, she decided. At +last she had thought of the Texas trip, and had wondered if she could +not compare Sunbridge with Texas. Aunt Julia and Miss Jane had thought +decidedly that she could. So for some days now, she had been hard at +work upon the paper, and was getting enthusiastically interested. + +All papers must be in by the sixteenth. It was on the tenth that +Cordelia, during a recess meeting of the Hexagon Club, drew a long +breath and turned upon her fellow members a beaming countenance. + +"Girls, I can't keep it a minute longer. I've got to tell you!" + +"Tell us what?" asked Tilly. "It must be something pretty fine to bring +that look to your face!" + +Cordelia laughed and blushed; but she sighed, too. + +"Oh, it isn't 'fine,' Tilly, at all. I wish it were, though--but really, +I do think it's the best thing I ever did, anyway." + +"What are you talking about, Cordelia Wilson?" demanded Genevieve. + +"Mercy! It must be pretty good if it's the _best_ thing Cordelia ever +did," teased Bertha. + +"Girls, stop," begged Cordelia, in real distress. "I--I hate to tell you +now; it sounds so foolish. It's only--my prize paper. It's all done. I'm +going to hand it in Monday, and--and I was so pleased with the subject!" + +"Oh, Cordelia, what is it? You know what mine is," cried Elsie. + +"It's--'When Sunbridge went to Texas,'" announced Cordelia, +breathlessly. + +"When--what?" cried Genevieve, almost sharply. + +Cordelia turned a happy face. + +"I knew _you'd_ like it, Genevieve," she nodded. "It's our trip, you +know. I've told all about it--comparing things here to things there, you +see." + +"Why--but, Cordelia, that's--" Genevieve paused abruptly. The pause in +her sentence was not noticed. The girls were all talking now, begging +Cordelia to tell them if they were "in it." + +"When--when did you choose your subject, Cordelia?" asked Genevieve, +very quietly, when she could be heard. + +"Not until the first of May. I just couldn't seem to get anything. Then +this came all of a sudden, and--and it just seemed to write itself, it +was done so quickly. You see I didn't have to look up this subject." + +Genevieve's face cleared. It was all right, after all. _She_ had +selected the subject a whole week before Cordelia--and of course +Cordelia would understand. + +"Oh, but Cordelia, that isn't quite fair," she began impulsively; but +for once Cordelia forgot her politeness and interrupted. + +"Don't you worry, Genevieve," she laughed gayly. "I've said lovely +things of Texas. You'd know I'd do that, Genevieve, even if I do love +Sunbridge. I did worry at first for fear somebody else had taken the +same subject--some of you girls--you know we can't have two about the +same thing." + +"But--" The bell rang for the close of recess, and again one of +Genevieve's sentences remained unfinished. + +Genevieve did not stop even to speak to any of the girls after school +that day. She went home at once. Even Harold Day, who overtook her, +found her so absorbed in her own thoughts that she was anything but her +usual talkative self. + +Once in the house, Genevieve went straight to Mrs. Kennedy. + +"Aunt Julia, if you get a prize subject first, it's yours, isn't it?" +she asked tremulously. + +"Why, y-yes, dear; I should think so." + +"Well, Aunt Julia, something perfectly awful has happened. Cordelia has +got my subject." + +"Oh, Genevieve, I'm so sorry!" Mrs. Kennedy's face showed more than +ordinary distress--Mrs. Kennedy had had high hopes of this prize paper. +"Why, how did it happen?" + +"I don't know. I suppose it was just in the air. But _I_ got it first. +She says she didn't think of it till May first. So of course it's--it's +mine, Aunt Julia." + +Mrs. Kennedy looked very grave. + +"I think the rules of the contest would give it to you, Genevieve," she +said. + +The girl stirred restlessly. + +"Of course I'm awfully sorry. She--she was going to hand it in Monday." + +"Oh, that is too bad!" + +There was a long silence. + +"I suppose I--I'll have to tell her," murmured Genevieve, at last. "The +club have a ride to-morrow. There'll be time--then." + +"Yes--if you decide to do it." + +Genevieve turned quickly. + +"But, Aunt Julia, I'll have to," she cried. "Just think of all my work! +Mine's all done but copying, you know. And I _was_ the first to get it. +There's no time to get another now." + +"No, there's no time to get another--now." Aunt Julia looked even more +sorrowful than Genevieve just then--Aunt Julia _had_ wanted Genevieve to +take that prize. + +"I'm sure that Cordelia--when she knows--" Genevieve did not finish her +sentence. + +"No, indeed! Of course, if Cordelia should know--" Aunt Julia did not +finish _her_ sentence. + +"But, Aunt Julia, she'll have to know," almost sobbed Genevieve. + +There was a long silence. Genevieve's eyes were out the window. Mrs. +Kennedy, watching her, suddenly spoke up with careless briskness: + +"Of course you'll tell Cordelia that 'twas _your_ subject, that _you_ +got it first, and that _you_ want it. Very likely she won't care much, +anyway." + +"Why, Aunt Julia, she will! If you could have seen her face when she +talked of it--" Genevieve stopped abruptly. Genevieve _did_ suddenly see +Cordelia's face as it had been that afternoon, all aglow with happiness. +She heard her eager voice say, too: "I think it's the best thing I ever +did!" + +"Oh, well, but maybe she doesn't care for the prize," observed Mrs. +Kennedy, still carelessly. + +"But, Aunt Julia, she does; she--" Again Genevieve stopped abruptly. She +was remembering now how Cordelia's face had looked that February +afternoon at the parsonage when she had said: "Of course I sha'n't win +it--dear me, how I would love to, though!" + +"But she'll understand, of course, when you tell her it's _your_ subject +and that _you_ want it," went on Mrs. Kennedy, smoothly. Genevieve did +not see the keen, almost fearful glances, that Mrs. Kennedy was giving +her between the light words. + +"I know; but that sounds so--so--" There was a long pause; then +Genevieve, with a quivering sigh, rose slowly and left the room. + +Mrs. Kennedy, for some unapparent reason, smiled--but there were tears +in her eyes. + +The Hexagon Club took a long ride the next day. Five of them talked +again of Cordelia's paper, and four begged Cordelia to tell what she had +said about them. If Genevieve, alone, was unusually silent, nobody, +apparently, noticed it. They were riding by themselves to-day. They had +invited none of the boys or other girls to join them. + +It was when the ride was over, and when Genevieve had almost reached the +Kennedy driveway, that she said wistfully, stroking the mare's neck: + +"Topsy, I just couldn't. I just couldn't! It sounded so--so--And, Topsy, +_you_ couldn't, if you'd seen how awfully happy she looked!" + +"What did Cordelia say?" asked Mrs. Kennedy, when Genevieve came into +the house a little later. There was no hint in the lady's voice of the +hope that was in her heart. + +"I--I didn't tell her, Aunt Julia," stammered Genevieve. Then, with a +playful whimsicality that did not in the least deceive Aunt Julia's +ears, she added: "Who wants that old prize, anyhow?" + +It was a beautiful smile, then, that illumined Aunt Julia's face, and it +was a very tender kiss that fell on Genevieve's forehead. + +"That's my brave Genevieve--and I'm sure you'll never regret it, my +dear!" she said. + + * * * * * + +May passed, and June came, bringing warm, sunny days that were very +tempting to feet that were longing to be tramping through green woods +and fields. Examinations, however, were coming soon, and Genevieve knew +that, tempting as was the beautiful out-of-doors, studies must come +first. Every possible minute, however, she spent in rides, walks, and +tennis playing--even Miss Jane insisted that she must have exercise. + +June brought not only alluring days, however, but a letter from +Quentina, which sent Genevieve flying into Mrs. Kennedy's room. + +"Aunt Julia, did you write again to Mr. Jones?" + +"I did," smiled Mrs. Kennedy, "and I have a letter from him to-day." + +"You darling! Then you know, of course! Oh, Aunt Julia, isn't it +lovely! I just can't wait till to-morrow to tell the girls." + +Genevieve did wait, however--she waited even till the morning recess. +She wanted all the Happy Hexagons together; and when she had them +together she told them the astounding news in one breathless rush of +words. + +"Girls, Quentina's coming next year to school. She's going to room with +me. Isn't it lovely!" + +There was a chorus of delighted questions and exclamations; but +Genevieve lifted her hand. + +"Sh-h! Listen. I've got her letter here. You must hear it!" and she +whipped open the letter and began to read: + + "Oh--oh--It isn't true--it can't be true! But + father says it is, and father doesn't lie. I'm to + go to Sunbridge. Sunbridge! I think Sunbridge is + the loveliest name in the world--for a town, I + mean, of course. + + "DEAR GENEVIEVE:--There! this is actually the + first minute I could bring myself to begin this + letter properly. Really, a thing like this can't + just begin, you know! And to think that I'm going + to see Paul Revere's grave and Bunker Hill and you + just next September! Oh, how can I ever thank you + and dear Mrs. Kennedy? I love her, love her, love + her--right now! And all the Happy Hexagons--I + love them, too. I love everybody and + everything--I'm going to Sunbridge! + + "All day I've been saying over and over to myself + that song in the 'Lady of the Lake,' only I've + changed the words a little to fit my case; like + this: + + "'Quentina, rest! thy longing o'er, + Sleep the sleep that knows no breaking; + Dream of Texas schools no more, + Days of longing, nights of sighing + For Paul Revere's enchanted land. + Hands unseen thy days are planning, + Fairy strains of music falling + Every sense is up and calling, + Quentina, rest! thy longing o'er, + East thy steps will turn once more.' + + "That 'more' is poetry, but a fib; for of course I + haven't been East at all yet. But that's just + poetic license, you know--fibs like that. + + "Oh, I just can't wait for September! + + "Your happy, happy + "QUENTINA." + +"My, but won't she be a picnic when she gets here?" chuckled Tilly, as +soon as she could stop laughing long enough to find her voice. + +"What in the world is the matter with you girls?" demanded Charlie +Brown, sauntering up to them, arm in arm with O. B. J. Holmes. + +Tilly turned merrily. + +"Matter! I guess you'll think something is the matter when Quentina +Jones gets here," she laughed. + +"Who is Quentina Jones?" + +"She is a new girl who is coming to school next year," explained Elsie. + +"She's from Texas, and she's never been East before," chimed in Bertha. + +"Yes, and as for you, Mr. Obejay Holmes," teased Tilly, "just you wait! +There's no telling what she will do with your name!" + +"What do you mean?" + +O. B. J. spoke to Tilly, but he threw a merry glance into Genevieve's +understanding eyes. + +"Nothing, only she's a regular walking rhyming dictionary, and I can +just fancy how those mysterious initials of yours will fire her up. My +poor little 'O Be Joyful' won't be in it, then. You'll see!" + +"I don't worry any," laughed O. B. J. Holmes, with another merry glance +at Genevieve. + +"You don't have to," interposed Genevieve, promptly. "Quentina is +everything that is sweet and lovely, and you'll all like her; I know you +will," she finished, as the bell rang and the boys turned laughingly +away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +A GOOD-BY PARTY + + +The June days sped so rapidly that Genevieve wondered where they went, +sometimes. School was to close the twenty-third. Mr. Hartley was to +arrive on the twentieth. Meanwhile examinations and the prize contest +were uppermost in every one's thoughts. Graduation exercises were to +come in the evening. The winner of the prize was to be announced at that +time, also. + +"And really, you know, the announcement of the prize-winner is all we +care about specially," Elsie said one day, in the presence of a group of +her friends on the schoolhouse steps. + +"Just you wait till you graduate," laughed back Bertha's brother, +Charlie, "and then I guess the _evening_ exercises will be of some +consequence." + +"Of course--but that won't be till two years from now," cried Genevieve. + +"Then you girls will be thinking more of frills and furbelows than you +will of prizes," laughed Harold Day. + +"I've got a new white dress for Graduation night," said Elsie in a low +voice to Genevieve, "and I don't believe I could have a prettier one, +even then." + +"Another new white dress?" demanded Tilly, who had heard the aside. +"Why, Elsie Martin, you had one for Miss Sally's wedding!" + +Elsie laughed happily. + +"I know--but this is a muslin. Aunt Kate seemed to want me to have +it--and of course I'd love to have it, myself!" + +Genevieve, for some reason, looked suddenly very happy, so much so that +Harold, watching her, said quietly a minute later: + +"Well, young lady, what's gone specially right with your world to-day?" + +Genevieve laughed and blushed. She shook her head roguishly. Then +suddenly she rejoined: + +"I reckon one of my awfully bad things has turned out all good--that's +all!" + + * * * * * + +True to his word, Mr. Hartley came on the twentieth. He was to be Mrs. +Kennedy's guest until the start for Texas after school had closed. + +"My, dearie! how fine and tall we are growing," he greeted his daughter +affectionately. "Looks like Mr. Tim and the boys won't know you, I'm +thinking!" + +"Nonsense! Of course they will--and I can't hardly wait to see them, +either," cried Genevieve. + +It is doubtful if, on Graduation night, Cordelia Wilson herself listened +to the announcement of the prize-winner any more anxiously than did +Genevieve. It seemed as if she could not bear it--after what had +happened--if Cordelia did not get the prize. And Cordelia got it. + +"'When Sunbridge went to Texas,'" read Mr. Jackson, "Cordelia Wilson." +And it was Genevieve who clapped the loudest. + +Cordelia, certainly, was beatifically happy. And when Genevieve saw her +amazed, but joyously happy face, she wondered why she should suddenly +want to cry--for, surely, she had never felt happier in her life. + +Graduation day, for the Happy Hexagons, was not, after all, quite the +last meeting together; for Mrs. Kennedy gave Genevieve a porch party the +night before she was to start back to Texas with Mr. Hartley. + +A very merry crowd of boys and girls it was that sang college songs and +told stories that night on the Kennedys' roomy, electric-lighted +veranda. + +"It seems just as if I couldn't have you go away," sighed Cordelia, at +last, to Genevieve. + +"But I'm coming back next year." + +"Mercy! We couldn't stand it if you weren't," cried Tilly. + +"And just think--last year we all went back with you," murmured Elsie. + +"I wish you were going this year," declared Genevieve. + +"I guess you aren't the only one that wishes that," cut in several +longing voices. + +"Well, we'll take you all now--if you'll go," retorted Genevieve, +merrily. + +"_All_--did you say?" challenged Harold Day. + +"Yes, all," nodded Genevieve, emphatically. "We'd be glad to have you, +every one of you." + +"Well, I begin to think you would--now that I've seen Texas," sighed +Tilly. "But I suppose we shall have to content ourselves till you come +back this time." + +"And this wonderful little rhyming dictionary, as Miss Tilly calls +her--does she come back with you?" asked O. B. J. Holmes. + +"Maybe. She comes next fall, anyway, before school begins," smiled +Genevieve. + +"Well, what I want to know is, if you are going to do any more Texas +missionary work," suggested Charlie Brown. + +"Pooh! She doesn't do that there--she does that here," cut in Tilly. + +"There isn't any more to do, anyway," declared the exact Cordelia, +happily. "She's got everything fixed even down to Elsie's--" She stopped +just in time, but already Genevieve had interposed hurriedly: + +"Oh, but it wasn't I that did anything. It was Cordelia. She found them +to begin with, you know--Reddy, and Hermit Joe's son." + +Mrs. Kennedy and Miss Jane, together with Nancy appeared just then with +great plates of ice cream and delicious cake; and after that, all too +soon, came the time for good-nights. The good-nights were not quite +finished, however, until at the foot of the walk, five members of the +Hexagon Club turned, and all together gave their Texas yell with a lusty +"Genevieve" at the end that brought the tears to the real Genevieve's +eyes. + + "Texas, Texas, Tex--Tex--Texas! + Texas, Texas, Rah! Rah! Rah! + GENEVIEVE!" + +"Mercy! What will the neighbors say--at this time of night!" protested +Miss Jane Chick, feebly; but her eyes, too, were moist. + + +THE END. + + + + +BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE + + +THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS + +(Trade Mark) + +_By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON_ + + _Each 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per vol._ $1.50 + + + THE LITTLE COLONEL STORIES + (Trade Mark) + + Being three "Little Colonel" stories in the Cosy + Corner Series, "The Little Colonel," "Two Little + Knights of Kentucky," and "The Giant Scissors," in + a single volume. + + THE LITTLE COLONEL'S HOUSE PARTY + (Trade Mark) + THE LITTLE COLONEL'S HOLIDAYS + (Trade Mark) + THE LITTLE COLONEL'S HERO + (Trade Mark) + THE LITTLE COLONEL AT BOARDING-SCHOOL + (Trade Mark) + THE LITTLE COLONEL IN ARIZONA + (Trade Mark) + THE LITTLE COLONEL'S CHRISTMAS VACATION + (Trade Mark) + THE LITTLE COLONEL, MAID OF HONOR + (Trade Mark) + THE LITTLE COLONEL'S KNIGHT COMES RIDING + (Trade Mark) + MARY WARE: THE LITTLE COLONEL'S CHUM + (Trade Mark) + MARY WARE IN TEXAS + MARY WARE'S PROMISED LAND + +_These_ 12 _volumes, boxed as a set_, $18.00. + + THE LITTLE COLONEL + (Trade Mark) + TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY + THE GIANT SCISSORS + BIG BROTHER + +Special Holiday Editions + + Each one volume, cloth decorative, small quarto, $1.25 + +New plates, handsomely illustrated with eight full-page drawings in +color, and many marginal sketches. + +IN THE DESERT OF WAITING: THE LEGEND OF CAMELBACK MOUNTAIN. + +THE THREE WEAVERS: A FAIRY TALE FOR FATHERS AND MOTHERS AS WELL AS FOR +THEIR DAUGHTERS. + +KEEPING TRYST + +THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING HEART + +THE RESCUE OF PRINCESS WINSOME: A FAIRY PLAY FOR OLD AND YOUNG. + +THE JESTER'S SWORD + +Each one volume, tall 16mo, cloth decorative $0.50 + +There has been a constant demand for publication in separate form of +these six stories which were originally included in six of the "Little +Colonel" books. + + +JOEL: A BOY OF GALILEE: BY ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON. Illustrated by L. +J. Bridgman. + +New illustrated edition, uniform with the Little Colonel Books, 1 vol., +large 12mo, cloth decorative $1.50 + +A story of the time of Christ, which is one of the author's best-known +books. + + +THE LITTLE COLONEL GOOD TIMES BOOK + + Uniform in size with the Little Colonel Series $1.50 + Bound in white kid (morocco) and gold 3.00 + +Cover design and decorations by Peter Verberg. + +Published in response to many inquiries from readers of the Little +Colonel books as to where they could obtain a "Good Times Book" such as +Betty kept. + + +THE LITTLE COLONEL DOLL BOOK + + Large quarto, boards $1.50 + +A series of "Little Colonel" dolls. There are many of them and each has +several changes of costume, so that the happy group can be appropriately +clad for the rehearsal of any scene or incident in the series. + + +ASA HOLMES; OR, AT THE CROSS-ROADS. By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON. + +With a frontispiece by Ernest Fosbery. + + Large 16mo, cloth, gilt top $1.00 + +"'Asa Holmes; Or, At the Cross-Roads' is the most delightful, most +sympathetic and wholesome book that has been published in a long +while."--_Boston Times._ + + +TRAVELERS FIVE: ALONG LIFE'S HIGHWAY. By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON. + +With an introduction by Bliss Carman, and a frontispiece by E. H. +Garrett. + + Cloth decorative $1.25 + +"Mrs. Johnston's ... are of the character that cause the mind to grow +gravely meditative, the eyes to shine with tender mist, and the heart +strings to stir to strange, sweet music of human sympathy."--_Los +Angeles Graphic._ + + +THE RIVAL CAMPERS; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF HENRY BURNS. By RUEL PERLEY +SMITH. + + Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated. $1.50 + +A story of a party of typical American lads, courageous, alert, and +athletic, who spend a summer camping on an island off the Maine coast. + + +THE RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT; OR, THE PRIZE YACHT VIKING. By RUEL PERLEY +SMITH. + + Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated. $1.50 + +This book is a continuation of the adventures of "The Rival Campers" on +their prize yacht _Viking_. + + +THE RIVAL CAMPERS ASHORE + +By RUEL PERLEY SMITH. + + Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 + +"As interesting ashore as when afloat."--_The Interior._ + + +THE RIVAL CAMPERS AMONG THE OYSTER PIRATES; OR, JACK HARVEY'S +ADVENTURES. + + By RUEL PERLEY SMITH. Illustrated $1.50 + +"Just the type of book which is most popular with lads who are in their +early teens."--_The Philadelphia Item._ + + +A TEXAS BLUE BONNET + +By CAROLINE EMILIA JACOBS (EMILIA ELLIOTT). + + 12mo, illustrated $1.50 + +"The book's heroine Blue Bonnet has the very finest kind of wholesome, +honest lively girlishness and cannot but make friends with every one who +meets her through the book as medium."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ + + +BLUE BONNET'S RANCH PARTY + +A Sequel to "A Texas Blue Bonnet." By CAROLINE ELLIOTT JACOBS and EDITH +ELLERBECK READ. + + 12mo, illustrated $1.50 + +The new story begins where the first volume leaves off and takes Blue +Bonnet and the "We Are Seven Club" to the ranch in Texas. The tables are +completely turned: Blue Bonnet is here in her natural element, while her +friends from Woodford have to learn the customs and traditions of +another world. + + +THE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE OR, PEGGY RAYMOND'S SUCCESS. By +HARRIET LUMMIS SMITH. + + 12mo, illustrated $1.50 + +This is a book that will gladden the hearts of many girl readers because +of its charming air of comradeship and reality. It is a very interesting +group of girls who live on Friendly Terrace and their good times and +other times are graphically related by the author, who shows a +sympathetic knowledge of girl character. + + +PEGGY RAYMOND'S VACATION; OR, FRIENDLY TERRACE TRANSPLANTED. + +A Sequel to "The Girls of Friendly Terrace." By HARRIET LUMMIS SMITH. + + Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated. $1.50 + +Readers who made the acquaintance of Peggy Raymond and her bevy of girl +chums in "The Girls of Friendly Terrace" will be glad to continue the +acquaintance of these attractive young folks. + +Several new characters are introduced, and one at least will prove a not +unworthy rival of the favorites among the Terrace girls. + + +THE HADLEY HALL SERIES + +_By LOUISE M. BREITENBACH_ + + _Each, library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated_ $1.50 + + +ALMA AT HADLEY HALL + +"Miss Breitenbach is to be congratulated on having written such an +appealing book for girls, and the girls are to be congratulated on +having the privilege of reading it."--_The Detroit Free Press._ + + +ALMA'S SOPHOMORE YEAR + +"The characters are strongly drawn with a life-like realism, the +incidents are well and progressively sequenced, and the action is so +well timed that the interest never slackens."--_Boston Ideas._ + + * * * * * + +THE SUNBRIDGE GIRLS AT SIX STAR RANCH. By ELEANOR STUART. + + Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 + +Any girl of any age who is fond of outdoor life will appreciate this +fascinating tale of Genevieve Hartley's summer vacation house-party on a +Texas ranch. Genevieve and her friends are real girls, the kind that one +would like to have in one's own home, and there are a couple of manly +boys introduced. + + +BEAUTIFUL JOE'S PARADISE; OR, THE ISLAND OF BROTHERLY LOVE. A Sequel +to "Beautiful Joe." By MARSHALL SAUNDERS, author of "Beautiful Joe." + + One vol., library 12mo, cloth illustrated $1.50 + +"This book revives the spirit of 'Beautiful Joe' capitally. It is fairly +riotous with fun, and is about as unusual as anything in the animal book +line that has seen the light."--_Philadelphia Item._ + + +'TILDA JANE. By MARSHALL SAUNDERS. + + One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $1.50 + +"It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books that win and +charm the reader, and I did not put it down until I had finished +it--honest! And I am sure that every one, young or old, who reads will +be proud and happy to make the acquaintance of the delicious waif. + +"I cannot think of any better book for children than this. I commend it +unreservedly."--_Cyrus T. Brady._ + + +'TILDA JANE'S ORPHANS. A Sequel to "'Tilda Jane." By MARSHALL +SAUNDERS. + + One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $1.50 + +'Tilda Jane is the same original, delightful girl, and as fond of her +animal pets as ever. + +"There is so much to this story that it is almost a novel--in fact it is +better than many novels, although written for only young people. +Compared with much of to-day's juveniles it is quite a superior +book."--_Chicago Tribune._ + + +THE STORY OF THE GRAVELYS. By MARSHALL SAUNDERS, author of "Beautiful +Joe's Paradise," "'Tilda Jane," etc. + + Library 12mo, cloth decorative. Illustrated by E. B. Barry $1.50 + +Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and triumphs, of a +delightful New England family. + + +PUSSY BLACK-FACE. By MARSHALL SAUNDERS, author of "'Tilda Jane," +"'Tilda Jane's Orphans," etc. + + Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 + +This is a delightful little story of animal life, written in this +author's best vein, dealing especially with Pussy Black-Face, a little +Beacon Street (Boston) kitten, who is the narrator. + + + + * * * * * + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Obvious punctuation errors corrected. + +Page 320, missing text supplied original read "jostled ..er, and +Genevieve stepped into a doorway to thin.. Across the street a blue-bell +sign caught her at..ention, and sent a swift light to her eye." The +missing text was inserted. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUNBRIDGE GIRLS AT SIX STAR +RANCH*** + + +******* This file should be named 25578.txt or 25578.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/5/7/25578 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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