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diff --git a/33409-h/33409-h.htm b/33409-h/33409-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..42fcc62 --- /dev/null +++ b/33409-h/33409-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9397 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge, by Margaret Vandercook. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .chaptertitle {text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight: bold;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%; font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge, by Margaret Vandercook + +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 Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge + The Ranch Girls Series + +Author: Margaret Vandercook + +Illustrator: Hugh A. Bodine + +Release Date: August 11, 2010 [EBook #33409] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RANCH GIRLS AT RAINBOW LODGE *** + + + + +Produced by Emmy, Darleen Dove and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h3>THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES</h3> +<h1>The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge</h1> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='bbox'> +<h3>BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Ranch Girls' Pot of Gold</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Ranch Girls at Boarding School</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Ranch Girls in Europe</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Ranch Girls at Home Again</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Ranch Girls and Their Great Adventure</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />THE RED CROSS GIRLS SERIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Red Cross Girls in the British Trenches</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Red Cross Girls on the French Firing Line</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Red Cross Girls in Belgium</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Red Cross Girls With the Russian Army</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Red Cross Girls With the Italian Army</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Red Cross Girls Under the Stars and Stripes</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Camp Fire Girls' Careers</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Camp Fire Girls in After Years</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Camp Fire Girls in the Desert</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the Trail</span></td></tr> +</table></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 315px;"> +<img src="images/i-004.jpg" width="315" height="500" alt="She Waved Her Wonderful Paper Before Her Friends" title="" /> +<span class="caption">She Waved Her Wonderful Paper Before Her Friends</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<div class='bbox'><h3>THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES</h3> + +</div><div class='bbox'> +<h1>The Ranch Girls<br /> + +<small>——AT——</small><br /> + +Rainbow Lodge</h1> + +<h2><small>——BY——</small><br /> + +MARGARET VANDERCOOK</h2> + +<div class='center'><br /> +ILLUSTRATED BY<br /> +HUGH A. BODINE<br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> +</div><div class='bbox'> + +<div class='center'> +THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY<br /> +<small>PHILADELPHIA</small><br /> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='copyright'> +Copyright, 1911, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">The John C. Winston Co</span>.<br /> +<br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +PRINTED IN U. S. A.<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><small><span class="smcap">Chapter</span></small></td><td align='right'><small><span class="smcap">Page</span></small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">The Lost Trail</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>II.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">In the Shadow of the Giant's Face</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Frieda and the Other Girl</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">The Rescue</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Seeking Advice</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">The Arrival at the House Party</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VII.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">A Visit to Old Laska</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VIII.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">The Escape from the Dance</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IX.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Jacqueline's Misfortune</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>X.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Back to Rainbow Lodge</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XI.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Breaking the News</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XII.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">On the Other Side of the Divide</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIII.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">The Wet Blanket</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIV.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">An Unfortunate Arrival</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XV.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">All Save, Jack!</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVI.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">When Greek Meets Greek</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVII.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">The Round-up</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVIII.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">A Race for Life</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIX.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">No News</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XX.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Olive</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXI.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">The Way of Escape</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXII.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">A Voice in the Night</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXIII.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Jack Is Happy</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXIV.</td><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Christmas Eve</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'><span class="smcap">She Waved Her Wonderful Paper Before Her Friends</span></div></td><td align='right'><i><a href="#Page_4">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'><span class="smcap">Frieda Flung Herself Valiantly in the Path of the Indian Woman</span></div></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"<span class="smcap">Can I Do Anything for You, Ma'am?</span>"</div></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'><span class="smcap">Someone Crept up behind Her with the Stealthiness Possible only to an Indian</span></div></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE LOST TRAIL.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>OVER the brown plain a shaggy broncho +trotted slowly, with its head drooping.</div> + +<p>A girl stood up in her saddle with one hand +to her lips. "Halloo! Halloo!" she cried. +"I wonder where on earth I am? I thought +I knew every inch of this country, yet here +I am lost and I can't be but a few miles from +our ranch. I must have missed the trail +somewhere. Jim! Jim Colter! If there is +anybody near, please answer me."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline Ralston rode astride. Her eyes +and cheeks were glowing and her gold brown +hair, deep grey eyes and brilliant color, +formed an unusually attractive picture.</p> + +<p>She leaned over and gave her pony a penitent +hug. "Poor little Hotspur, you shall +have a rest pretty soon, even if I have to +spend the night out of doors. But won't +Jean and Frieda be frightened? Jim will +scour the prairies for me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>The pony was treading through a vast field +of purple clover fading to brown in the autumn +sun. It was just before sunset. Away to the +right, Jacqueline could see a group of slow +moving objects, which she knew to be cattle. +Half a mile on the opposite side was a sparse +group of evergreen trees and low bushes. +But there was nothing else that broke the +vision of a long line of level country, until the +snow-capped peaks of the distant mountains +shone like gold in the rays of the setting sun.</p> + +<p>"We will try the trees, Hotspur," Jacqueline +urged coaxingly. "Perhaps we may find +a trail over there. Anyhow I believe I would +rather be a solitary babe in the woods, than +to wander around here in the alfalfa fields +until to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>The girl wore a short, brown corduroy +jacket and skirt, leather leggings and riding +boots. Over the pommel of her saddle hung +a bunch of silver grouse and a smart little rifle +was suspended at her side.</p> + +<p>"I am desperately hungry," she announced +aloud. "I do wish I had a match so I could +light a fire. Jolly good advice that of Jim's +for a ranch girl, 'never try to find your match, +always carry it with you.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jacqueline laughed. She was not willing +to confess that she was tired, although she +had been riding since eight o'clock that morning. +Against the wishes of her sister Frieda, +her cousin Jean, and the overseer of their +ranch, Jim Colter, she had gone off alone to +inspect the corral which had been recently +built to protect their sheep for the winter.</p> + +<p>Inside the woods the way was darker and +there was no sign of a road. Jacqueline let +the reins slacken on her pony's neck. Really +Hotspur would have to find the right trail +home, if they were to reach the ranch house +that night. She could hear the rabbits and +squirrels scurrying back into their retreats. +They were not accustomed to being disturbed +at their supper time and at first there was no +other sound.</p> + +<p>"Who goes there?" suddenly a rough voice +demanded, and a horse came plunging through +an opening in the trees.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline's color paled. She recognized +the rider, a boy of about sixteen, nearly her +own age. "I am Jacqueline Ralston," she +answered quietly. "I have lost the trail. +Will you please show me the way to the Rainbow +Ranch?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p>The young fellow laughed rudely. "Miss +Ralston, is it?" he sneered. "Don't tell me +you are lost on our ranch. You have been +over here spying at our cattle. Just you +trot along home as fast as you can. I shall +report to my father what I caught you +doing." The boy's light blue eyes blazed +angrily.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline had reined in her pony and +waited. Her temper was not her strong point, +but she replied politely: "I am not spying, +Dan Norton; I wonder why you should think +it necessary. I will leave your ranch as soon +as I can get away from it. Will you please +show me the trail?"</p> + +<p>Jacqueline held her head very high. +"Won't you tell me?" she asked again. "Because +we happen to be enemies is no reason +why you shouldn't believe my word." The +young girl's tones were gentle, but her face +was white with anger in the gathering dusk. +Her firm red lips were pressed tight together +to keep her from saying the things she really +felt.</p> + +<p>Dan Norton rode closer toward her and for +reply struck her pony sharply with his short +riding whip. Tired little Hotspur quivered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +with pain, but stood still under his mistress' +gentle words.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that again, Dan," Jacqueline protested, +feeling the hot blood rush to her face +and then leave her cold and still with anger. +"There is not another person in Wyoming +who would be so rude to me. But there has +been trouble enough between you and us. +I shall not speak of this, but I shall never be +able to forgive you to the longest day I +live;" and Jacqueline's grey eyes looked so +proudly and so scornfully into the boy's that +his own dropped.</p> + +<p>"Your way's to the left," he muttered. +"If you ride quick, you will soon be on the +boundary of your own ranch. Hurry, there +is some one else coming this way."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline did not stir. A few minutes +before, she would have trotted off gladly. +Now nothing would have induced her to go. +She would not run away from her enemy. +Indeed she preferred to explain her presence +on his ranch to Mr. Norton.</p> + +<p>In the silence between the two young people +another voice entered, but it was not Mr. +Norton's. Some one was singing.</p> + +<p>Dan Norton rode hurriedly out of sight and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +Jacqueline lifted her rifle, letting it rest in her +arm.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"If a body meet a body,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Comin' through the rye;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">If a body kiss a body,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Need a body cry?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Every lassie has her laddie,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Nane they say have—</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Oh!" the song stopped abruptly. The +singer threw up both hands and burst into a +merry boyish laugh. "I surrender in the name +of—in the name of most anything, if you will +only put down that gun," he declared. "Who +would have thought of meeting a girl in these +woods? Whatever are you doing here? +Poaching? No, I believe you don't have +game preserves in this country, so poaching +isn't against your law." The stranger +laughed, though he had taken off his hat and +bowed courteously to his fellow traveler. +"Please tell me, are you Rosalind in the forest +of Arden? You look like her, although I never +heard of her on horseback," he ended merrily.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline bit her lips. The young man +was evidently a newcomer in the neighborhood +and at any other time Jacqueline would +have liked him. He must have been about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +seventeen and was tall and slender, with +light brown hair and clever brown eyes. His +dress was that of a cowboy, but Jacqueline +saw with a feeling of instant disdain that his +clothes were too new and his face too white +for him to have lived long in her country. +Besides he did not ride or talk like a Westerner.</p> + +<p>"I am Frank Kent, at your service," he +explained, puzzled by Jacqueline's haughty +silence. "I am an Englishman and I don't +quite know what I ought to do or say out in +Wyoming. But may I be of any service to +you?"</p> + +<p>Jacqueline's feeling of hurt and anger began +to subside and she smiled in a more friendly +fashion. Frank Kent decided that he had +never seen such a pretty girl before in his life. +Had she been a city girl, her skin would +have been fair, but from her outdoor life it +had become exquisitely darkened by the +wind and sun of the prairies. Her hair was +like bronze and her color a deep rose.</p> + +<p>"I ought not to be asking favors of you," +Jacqueline replied in her usual manner. +"You are a stranger in a strange land, while I +have lived out West since I was a baby. But +can you show me the trail to the Rainbow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +Ranch? Anyhow tell me how to get off of +this place. I have never been on it before, +and—" To save her life Jacqueline could not +keep her voice from trembling.</p> + +<p>"Surely I can show you," Frank answered. +He spoke with such a funny English accent, +that Jacqueline would have liked to have +made fun of him, if she had known him better.</p> + +<p>"I have heard a lot about the girls who run +Rainbow Ranch," he went on quickly. "They +sound like such an awfully good sort that +I have made Dan Norton tell me a lot about +them. I am visiting him, surely you must +know him," the young fellow concluded +eagerly.</p> + +<p>What in the world had he said? Frank +Kent was startled. The girl he had just met +seemed quite friendly a moment before. Now +she stiffened up on her pony, her cheeks +turned scarlet and her eyes flashed.</p> + +<p>"I won't trouble you any further," she +announced. "I will find my own way home +from here." Without another word or a +backward glance, Jacqueline gave her pony a +gentle cut and Hotspur galloped quickly away.</p> + +<p>"Whew," Frank Kent whistled, "methinks +some one told me that the people one met out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +West were awfully friendly and informal. +That girl was as touchy as you find them. +But I wonder who she is? I think I will ride +after her and show her the trail, even if she +is so high and mighty."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline pretended not to hear the +young man trotting along behind her, and +did not turn her head. She rode faster +and faster until a sound like a stifled moan +arrested her. Jacqueline paused and saw +that the young fellow who had been so +polite to her a few minutes before was +ghastly white. He was swaying so in his +saddle that he had not the strength to stop +his horse.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline caught his bridle. "Rest a +minute," she urged gently. "You will soon +be all right. You have ridden too far and +you are not used to it. People always do too +much, when they first come to Wyoming. +My name is Jacqueline Ralston and I am one +of the girls at the Rainbow Ranch. I am +sorry I was rude to you a little while ago, +but the Nortons are not our friends." Jacqueline +was talking so that the young man +could get his breath. She could not help +admiring the brave fight he made. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +seemed to be dreadfully ashamed of his own +weakness.</p> + +<p>"You will let me show you the right trail, +won't you?" he asked. "I am sorry you are +not friendly with my hosts. I thought I +heard you talking to Dan, when I rode up to +you, but that won't matter about me, will +it? I don't know anything about your +quarrel and if we were properly introduced, +don't you think we could be friends? I can't +tell you how plucky I think it is for you three +girls to be managing your own ranch. Don't +you think you might tell me a thing or two +about it? It is pretty lonely out here for a +stranger."</p> + +<p>The young fellow looked so nice, and so ill, +in spite of his efforts to hide it, that Jacqueline +almost relented. Then the thought of +Dan Norton's rudeness and the long feud +between them swept over her, and Jacqueline +shook her head firmly.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," she returned. "With any +one else it would not matter, but we can't +be friendly with any guest of the Norton's." +Jacqueline hesitated, "I can't explain it to +you, there isn't time. Good-bye. I know +the way home from here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<p>Frank Kent watched Jacqueline ride out of +sight, sitting on her pony as though she had +been made on it, like a figure cut from bronze, +all in soft tones of gold and brown.</p> + +<p>It was quite dark when Jacqueline at last +spied the lights of her own ranch house +twinkling at her warmly through the open +windows and doors.</p> + +<p>The broncho hurried faster, forgetting his +hard day and Jacqueline talked low in his ear.</p> + +<p>"Home and supper, Hotspur! See the +lights of home ahead. Soon they will hear us +coming. Suppose I give our call and relieve +the suspense." Three times in rapid succession, +Jacqueline touched her red lips with +her slender fingers and gave a shrill, clear +whistle like an Indian's call.</p> + +<p>Instantly figures moved about in the ranch +house. A dark lantern was swung off its +place over the front door and a man and two +girls hurried down the drive. Jacqueline +was lifted off her horse. Her sister, Frieda, +seized her by one arm, her cousin, Jean, by +the other.</p> + +<p>"What has kept you so long?" Frieda demanded +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"If you have had an adventure and wouldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +let me go with you to-day, I shall never get +over it," Jean insisted. "Come into the +house this minute. Do tell us where you +have been. Jim telephoned over to the other +side of the ranch three hours back, but the sheep +herders said you started for home long ago. +We have been frightened to death ever since."</p> + +<p>Frieda pulled at her sister's jacket. Jean, +although she kept up her scolding, got a pair +of soft, red felt slippers and placed them invitingly +in front of the big, living-room fire.</p> + +<p>Rainbow Lodge was built of pine logs. +The great sitting-room was forty feet long and +two-thirds as wide and it looked like a man's +room, but the three ranch girls did not know +it. The floor was covered with buffalo robes +and beautiful bright Navajo blankets made +by the Indians in the nearby villages, and the +head of an elk thrusting forth giant antlers dominated +the scene from above the stone fireplace. +An Andrew Jackson table made of hewn logs, +with a smooth polished top, occupied one side +of the fireplace, holding a reading lamp and +some half-opened books.</p> + +<p>In another corner the home-made book +shelves were filled with much-read novels and +books of travel. There were low, comfortable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +chairs about everywhere. It was an odd +room to be occupied by three young girls, +but a very noble one. The ranch girls had +kept it just as their father had left it when +he died, six months before.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline gave a comfy sigh. "I <i>am</i> +glad to be at home," she murmured. "I +haven't had any special adventure. Jean, I +know you will be disgusted with me, but I got +lost and wandered over on the Norton ranch. +I met Dan Norton and he was horrid to me. +Oh, Frieda darling, hasn't Aunt Ellen saved +me anything to eat? I am simply starving," +Jacqueline ended, anxious to change the subject.</p> + +<p>Aunt Ellen came in at this moment bearing +a waiter. She was nearly six feet tall, part +Indian and part colored, and she had lived +with the Ralstons ever since Mr. and Mrs. +Ralston came to Wyoming from the East, +bringing Jack, who was then only two years +old.</p> + +<p>The old woman was frowning and shaking +her head, as she put down Jack's supper. +"Ought never to have ridden off across the +ranch alone, ought not to be coming back +home way after dark. I am sure the master<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +never would have liked you chilluns living +here and trying to run things for yourself," +she muttered.</p> + +<p>Jack flushed, although she patted the old +woman's hand affectionately and said nothing. +Jack knew she deserved the scolding +and that she would have another from Jim +Colter, the manager of their ranch, in +the morning. To-night he had led Hotspur +away without a word and retired to his own +quarters.</p> + +<p>No one, excepting strangers, ever called +Jacqueline Ralston anything but Jack. She +never thought of herself by her pretty French +name, except when she wished to appear very +grown up and impressive. As for little +Frieda, she had been born at Rainbow Ranch +house thirteen years before on Christmas eve. +She was such a fair little German-looking +baby, with her blue eyes and flaxen hair, that +her mother gave her the pretty German name +of Frieda, which means peace. Mrs. Ralston +died when Frieda was only a few months old, +but the little girl had fairly earned her name +all her life. Peace and War, Jean used to call +the two sisters, when she wanted to tease +Jack, for Jacqueline was as high-tempered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +and determined as Frieda was gentle and +serene.</p> + +<p>Jean was a slender, graceful maiden, with +hair and eyes of the same nut brown color. +She had come to live at the ranch ten years +before, when her mother, Mr. Ralston's sister, +died, and Mr. Ralston decided it would be +better to bring up three motherless girls than +two. Jean had a gentle, far-away expression, +though Jack always asserted that Jean was +present when she wanted to be. She only +dreamed dreams and wore her aloof expression +when people bored her, or when she felt +sad and thought she needed sympathy. Jack +and Frieda knew no difference in their feeling +for Jean and for each other.</p> + +<p>When Jacqueline finished supper, she curled +herself in a big armchair in front of the fire. +Frieda sat on a low stool at her feet while +Jean, with an open book, was not far away. +Jean was the reader of the three girls, but to-night +her book was neglected.</p> + +<p>"Out with it, Jack," Jean insisted calmly. +"You know perfectly well that you haven't +told us all that happened to you this afternoon. +Fire away and get it over with, I want to +finish my book to-night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + +<p>After much urging, Jack told her story in +full and Jean flung her book down and danced +about the room on her tip-toes, she was so +angry, when she heard how Dan Norton had +treated her. But she had a different feeling +about the young English fellow.</p> + +<p>"I really think you were rather horrid, +Jacqueline Ralston," she announced coolly. +"Of course we can't be having visitors or +making friends with any one visiting those +hateful Nortons, but I think you might +have told that young fellow we would be nice +to him when we met him other places. He +is a far-off cousin of the Nortons, whose health +broke down while he was at college in England +and his people sent him over here to +recover. His father is a Lord, or a Sir or +something, I can't remember which. But +Mrs. Simpson says he is awfully nice and—"</p> + +<p>Jack put both fingers in her ears. "For +goodness sake, hush, Jean Bruce," she protested. +"You are such a snob. What difference +can it make to us, whether this Frank +Kent is a lord or a prizefighter? We certainly +can't have anything to do with him. I +shan't even speak to him again if I can help it. +For the life of me, Jean, I don't see how you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +happen to find out the gossip in Wyoming +with our ranches five miles apart."</p> + +<p>Jean's brown eyes sparkled. She and Jack +had many differences of opinion, but to-night +Jack was tired and her cousin decided not to +answer back.</p> + +<p>"Have you gotten your lessons, Frieda?" +Jack asked gently a moment later, kissing +her hand apologetically to Jean.</p> + +<p>Frieda shook her head. She had two long +blonde plaits, like a little German girl, with a +curl at the end of each one of them. Her +cheeks were a faint pink, and her nose tilted +just enough to curl her lips up into a smile.</p> + +<p>"No," she replied calmly. "Jean offered +to hear me recite, but I didn't feel like it. +You and Jean haven't studied your French +for three evenings. I don't see why I have +to do all the studying, because I am the youngest. +When we planned to live by ourselves +this winter, you and Jean declared that you +were going to study three or four hours every +day."</p> + +<p>Jack pulled Frieda's hair and Jean had just +picked up her French grammar with a sigh +when there came the noise of some one riding +up to the ranch house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>The three girls flew to the window. It was +too dark to recognize the figure on horseback. +But a few moments later, Aunt Ellen brought +in an envelope addressed to "Miss Jacqueline +Ralston."</p> + +<p>It was a surly note of apology from Dan +Norton for his rudeness to her in the afternoon. +The girls wondered what in the world +had induced him to write it.</p> + +<p>Long after Jean and Frieda were asleep, +Jacqueline lay awake. She was the oldest +and most responsible member of the ranch +girl family of three. Frieda was right, she +and Jean had been neglecting their studies +shamefully. Now and then Jack could not +help thinking that perhaps it was not wise for +them to live without a teacher or a chaperon. +They did not want to grow up perfect greenhorns, +yet how they hated the idea of introducing +a stranger into their home at Rainbow +Ranch. Jack was still puzzling, when she +fell asleep, with the familiar sound in her ears +of the far-off lowing of the wild cattle across +the prairie and the distant bark of the faithful +sheep dogs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>IN THE SHADOW OF THE GIANT'S FACE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>FRIEDA walked ankle deep in purple +violets. Her hands were full of them +and she carried a brimful basket on her arm.</div> + +<p>"What a picture you are, Frieda," Jack +called, as she came out on the broad veranda +of the ranch house at about eight o'clock the +next morning.</p> + +<p>"I don't care if we don't make our everlasting +fortunes with our violet beds, they +are just too sweet for anything! Jean is coming +out to help you pick the flowers in a +minute; I have got to go down to the rancho +to make my peace with Jim."</p> + +<p>Jack walked briskly along. It was a +gentle October day with a bright sun and +warm wind. You seemed to be able to see +half way across the world, the horizon line +stretched so far beyond you.</p> + +<p>One of the ways in which Jean and Frieda +had been trying to help to make the ranch pay +was by starting a violet farm. Nearly an acre +of land near the house had been irrigated and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +glistened with the dark green leaves and +purple stars of the young plants. The flowers +were to be covered with glass later on. Now +the fresh morning air was fragrant with their +perfume. Of course the flowers had not yet +had time to pay for the expense of planting +them, but Frieda was eagerly calculating how +many bunches she would have to send to the +nearest town, when Jean joined her.</p> + +<p>"Don't you wish we could spend this whole +day out of doors, Jean?" Frieda suggested. +"I forgot to say anything about it to Jack, +but you know how we have talked about riding +over to the Giant's Cañon to have our lunch. +Aunt Ellen can pack our saddle bags, and we +can join Jack at the rancho."</p> + +<p>After a ten minutes' walk, Jacqueline Ralston +touched the brim of her broad sombrero +hat with a military salute and brought her +heels sharply together, when a tall figure came +down the path toward her from the rancho +with his hands deep in his old leather trousers. +She was near the mess-house, where the men +who worked the ranch had their quarters. +The girls called it "Jim's rancho," to distinguish +it from their own home half a mile +away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jim Colter returned Jack's salute gravely. +He was a handsome man of about thirty, with +black hair and skin almost as swarthy as a +Mexican's. The queer thing about his appearance +was that his eyes were as blue and as +gentle as a baby's, except when he was angry +and then there was no harder man in Wyoming +to deal with than the overseer of Rainbow +Ranch. Jack would not have dared to let him +know how rude Dan Norton had been to her.</p> + +<p>Jim was a man of mystery. He came from +goodness knows where; no one knew anything +of his past. One day, many years +before, he rode up to the ranch house nearly +dead from fatigue and hunger. Mr. Ralston +took him in and he never went away again. +But he would not say one word about himself +and no one dared to ask him many questions, +because his blue eyes would suddenly grow +black and angry and he would look as though +he were recalling something he wanted to +forget.</p> + +<p>Jim was devoted to Jack and Jean, but +Frieda was his special favorite. She was only +two years old when he came to live at Rainbow +Ranch, but he taught her to ride and to +swim, when other babies were only just learning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +to walk. He and Mr. Ralston used to ride +all over the great ranch, with Frieda tucked +up in front of Jim's saddle and Jack perched +behind her father's when both little girls were +almost babies. By the time she was fourteen, +Jacqueline Ralston, who was her father's +shadow, knew the trick of lassoing. There +was not a cowboy on the ranch who could +ride faster, shoot straighter, or understood +more about the business of caring for the cattle +and the sheep than she did, and since Mr. +Ralston's death, Jim had always consulted +Jack about each new business venture.</p> + +<p>Jack made her report of yesterday's expedition, +but without a word of her meeting with +Dan. Jim said nothing about the fright +Jack had given them, but Jack found herself +blushing and feeling like a little girl, instead +of the head of a thousand acre ranch as he +looked at her.</p> + +<p>"It really wasn't my fault I was out late, +yesterday, Jim," Jack apologized. "But we +girls have decided to turn over a new leaf. +We have made up our minds to stay at home +and study, until we are regular blue stockings."</p> + +<p>Jim laughed and at this moment glanced +up the road. Jean and Frieda were riding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +calmly toward them. Jean was leading Hotspur +and the three girls' saddle bags were +packed as though they were pioneers traveling +across the Deadwood trail to the gold regions +of California.</p> + +<p>Jim chuckled. "Looks like a party of +bluestockings from Boston, Jack, coming this +way, 'specially that there fishing tackle Jean's +carrying. Where was you expecting to spend +to-day?" he drawled in a funny Western +fashion.</p> + +<p>Frieda tucked a small bunch of violets in +the buttonhole of Jim's khaki shirt. She +wore a blue riding suit and a big Mexican hat +like Jack's and her face looked very young +and babyish under it. "We are going to the +Giant's Cañon, Jim," she said apologetically. +"It's such a dream of a day, but Jack doesn't +know. We have brought her sketch book +and Jean's along and I have my history, so +we can get our lessons outdoors and then we +can make a fire and have lunch in my own +little cave in the rocks."</p> + +<p>"We will be back early, Jim," Jean added.</p> + +<p>"All right," Jim agreed. His eyes twinkled +at the vision of Jean and Jack sketching +under the shadow of the great stone peaks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +whose broken outline looked like the profile +of a giant's face. The Giant's Cañon was five +miles across the plains, but the ranch girls +were in the habit of riding over to it. Between +the ridges of rock, nestling in the deep +gorge, were little lakes filled with shimmering +trout. One of the rocky caverns in the cañon, +Frieda had adopted as her very own. The +girls always spoke of it as Frieda's cave.</p> + +<p>Frieda's stone castle was really two stories +high. A large flat rock jutted out over a +second one about eight feet below it while a +flight of natural stairs ran from the ground +to the floor of the cave.</p> + +<p>Frieda unpacked the saddle bags, while +Jean and Jack tethered the ponies to a great +cottonwood tree not far from the edge of the +gorge. The place was entirely deserted, except +for an eagle that swooped out of her eyrie +and floated above the newcomers' heads. +Frieda slipped down the stairs into her cave, +spread out her pony's blanket and set to housekeeping, +humming as cheerfully as though +she had been in her own private room at the +ranch. She was not in the least awed by the +grandeur and loneliness of the scenery about +her. Indeed Frieda was so much at home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +in her cavern that she kept an old frying pan +hung from one of the sharp points of the rock +and some broken dishes stored away in a +crevice which formed a kind of natural pantry.</p> + +<p>Jean and Jack made a fire, because no +camper is really happy without one. Then +they religiously got out their sketch books and +set to work to make pictures of their three +sturdy bronchos munching the buffalo grass +in their neighborhood.</p> + +<p>Both girls worked patiently for about ten +minutes and then Jean sighed once or twice. +She had used her eraser oftener than her +drawing pencil. Holding her drawing out, +she gazed at it critically. Finally she tore it +into small bits and strolled over to Jack, to +gaze over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"And what be those critturs you are picturing, +Friend Ralston?" Jean demanded, +in a familiar, Western tone. "If they are +native to this here state of Wyoming, I ain't +never seen 'em before. Be they mules or +buffaloes?"</p> + +<p>Jack frowned and bit her pencil. "Don't +be a goose, Jean," she answered, "and +please don't interrupt." Jack surveyed her +masterpiece critically. "The ponies do look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +a bit queer," she confessed. "One of them +has three legs and the other five, but then +I haven't worked very long. Do go away +and see if you can do any better yourself. +You know we solemnly vowed that we were +going to sketch an hour each day."</p> + +<p>Jean departed to another ten minutes of +labor. But the sun was shining gloriously; +the day was one long, sunlit delight. She +could hear the water trickling over the rocks +in the gorge below, and Frieda moving about +at her housekeeping. Jean picked up her +fishing rod, selected a choice fly and slipped +her sketch book into her knapsack.</p> + +<p>"Au revoir, Jack dear," she announced +cheerfully. "Stay here and look after Frieda. +I am going down to the pool to get some +trout for lunch." Jean flung some pine +knots on their fire, kissed her hand to Frieda +and marched off, smiling wickedly at Jack, +who was drawing as though her life depended +on it. She wished to be an object lesson of +industry to slothful Jean.</p> + +<p>When Jean had entirely disappeared down +the side of the ravine, Jack stopped to gaze +sadly at her morning's work. "I am afraid +I am not a natural-born artist," she declared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +aloud. "It may be all right for geniuses to +work from life, but I can't make any headway +without a teacher. I wish Cousin Ruth had +not put French and drawing into her list of +what a young woman should know. They +may be easy enough for girls to learn in her +beloved old Vermont, but they are pretty hard +work out here. I am afraid the ranch girls +don't know any of the things they should." +Jack's red lips parted. "But it's lots of fun +to know the unnecessary things like fishing +and riding. Gee whiz, I can't stand working +any longer."</p> + +<p>Jack leaned over the ledge of rock. Her +drawing fluttered down to her sister. "Here +Frieda, decorate your cave with that work +of art. It looks like a drawing made by the +Indians in pre-historic days. You won't +mind, will you, if I go away for a while? I +won't be out of calling distance and I won't +stay long. If you need me, just sing out."</p> + +<p>Frieda smiled. Her blue eyes looked like +a reflection of the clear sky above them. +She had so little idea of feeling any fear, that +she did not even trouble to answer Jack's +question. There were no more wild animals +in the gorge. Besides, the ranch girls knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +that few animals would attack them, except +in self-defense.</p> + +<p>Frieda climbed down the rocky cliff to fill +an old teakettle with water from a spring not +far below and then hung it over the fire on a +crooked stick. If the water boiled long before +Jean and Jack returned, the pleasant, sizzly +sound would keep her company. Frieda's +house was in order, so she set out her luncheon +dishes, arranging them around in a circle +on the floor of her cave. In the center, in +a broken teacup, she placed the bunch of +violets she had worn in her trip across the +plain. Still the girls had not returned; +Frieda might have studied, but she decided +that it would be more fun to enlarge the +crevice in the rocks, which formed the storehouse +for her kitchen and dining-room utensils.</p> + +<p>She struck the rock sharply with a large +stone. A piece chipped off, then another. +It was red sandstone and not very hard and +Frieda was banging away with all her might, +when she gave a quick exclamation of surprise. +A great crack appeared along one side +of the stone wall, and a big boulder crashed +down at Frieda's feet. Before her, she beheld<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +another cavern in the rock, almost as large +as the one in which she played.</p> + +<p>The little girl jumped back. At any moment +she expected to see a pair of wild eyes glaring +at her from the rocky retreat, believing +that she had accidentally broken into the +cave of some animal. But nothing happened; +there was no stir, no sound from the darkness +inside.</p> + +<p>Frieda's heart beat rapidly. Her face was +pale from excitement. She looked cautiously +into the opening, thrust one small hand into +it and drew out a round dish of hard, baked +clay, engraved with queer, Indian characters. +Frieda gave a shriek of delight, although she +did not realize that she had accidentally discovered +an important collection of Indian +relics. But she was fascinated with the arrow +heads and queer Indian dolls that she dug out +a second later.</p> + +<p>In the midst of her search, Frieda heard a +sound that made her heart stand still. At +the head of the gorge, about a quarter of a +mile away, there was a dense thicket of evergreens. +From this direction came a cry of +pain and terror. Frieda flew up to the ground +above.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Jean, Jack!" she called. "What has +happened? Is one of you hurt? Please +come to me." Frieda gave the call, that was +always the signal between the three ranch +girls. "Oh-oo, Oh-ooo, Oh-oooo," ending in a +shrill, drawn-out note, as she touched her lips +with her fingers, three times in quick succession.</p> + +<p>Then she listened, but neither Jean nor +Jack answered her. The ranch girls could +hear sounds from afar off, as they had spent +their lives in the open country. As Frieda ran +forward a few steps, she caught the echo of +light feet, flying along the ground. A girl +came out of the woods, rushing toward her +blindly. But Frieda could not tell who it +was or guess what had happened. Was it +Jean or Jack?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>FRIEDA AND THE OTHER GIRL.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE apparition drew near enough for +Frieda to see that it was a stranger +with straight black hair. She was barefoot +and wore a short, ragged skirt, a bright red +jacket, and a red scarf twisted around her +throat. In her startled glance at the girl, +Frieda beheld a pair of immense black eyes, +set in a thin, pointed face, with cheeks flushed +crimson, perhaps from the swiftness of her +flight. Her breath came in short gasps. +Frieda thought of a fawn she had once seen +pursued by some hunters, with its great soft +eyes transformed into staring pools of terror +and its soft sides quivering as though its +heart were breaking in its final effort to +evade its pursuers.</div> + +<p>"Oh, what is it?" Frieda cried, with quick +sympathy.</p> + +<p>The girl looked at her hopelessly and +ran on. But Frieda now understood. An +old Indian woman armed with a stick, +trotted out of the screen of the trees. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +was running more slowly but her face was +terrifying. Her small black eyes were red +with anger and she waved a long arm at the +girl.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 316px;"> +<img src="images/i-043.jpg" width="316" height="500" alt="Frieda Flung Herself Valiantly in the Path of the Indian Woman." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Frieda Flung Herself Valiantly in the Path of the Indian Woman.</span> +</div> + +<p>Frieda wanted to help, but what could she +do? "Jean! Jack!" she called again. She +could see that the hunted girl had no +chance of escaping. She was nearly dropping +with exhaustion. There was no place for her +to hide, for the plain stretched on, covered +only with grass and low sage brush.</p> + +<p>Frieda flung herself valiantly in the path +of the Indian woman. She was used to the +Indians. Ever since she could remember she +had been making trips to their villages, and +a number of half-breed Indian boys had +worked on their ranch. But the girl had +never seen one of them so furiously angry as +this old squaw. She was frightened and at +the same <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'timew anted'">time wanted</ins> to laugh. The woman +was so fat and in such a temper, "that she +shook when she ran, like a bowlful of jelly," +Frieda thought to herself.</p> + +<p>The squaw did not lift her beady, black +eyes until she was within a few feet of Frieda.</p> + +<p>"Ugh," she grunted. "Git out."</p> + +<p>She tried to push Frieda away with her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +stick, but Frieda stretched out both arms and +danced up and down in front of the old woman, +until she did not know which way to turn.</p> + +<p>Old Laska had not run all this distance and +gotten out of breath to be stopped by a pale-face +chit of a child. She struck Frieda with +her staff. Frieda gave a sudden, sharp cry +and looked quickly around. She saw that +the Indian girl had fallen only a short distance +beyond them and was vainly struggling +to get on her feet again. Frieda shut her +eyes; in another moment she knew that she +would hear cruel blows being rained down on +the defenseless girl by the furious old woman.</p> + +<p>At this moment, a golden brown head, +wearing a soft, round Mexican hat, appeared +above an opening in the gorge. "Frieda, +what's the matter? Didn't we hear you +call?" Jack's voice rang out unexpectedly. +She jumped lightly from the rocks to the +ground and ran toward her sister, guessing at +once that the Indian woman had frightened +Frieda.</p> + +<p>"Stop," Jack ordered imperiously.</p> + +<p>The woman hesitated. Something in Jack's +commanding tone impressed her and at the +same instant Jean crawled slowly into sight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +above the ravine, swinging a string of trout +over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>The Giant's Cañon seemed suddenly alive +with girls.</p> + +<p>Jean gazed at the scene in bewilderment. +Jack's hands were clasped behind her and +her head was thrown back in a fashion she +had when she was angry. Frieda was in tears +and between the two sisters stood a fat squaw.</p> + +<p>Jack and Jean looked so ready to do battle +at a moment's notice, that the Indian's +manner changed.</p> + +<p>"I want not to hurt the little Missie," she +mumbled. "I try to catch my own girl. +She run away from her good home. She ver' +bad." The old woman's head with its +straight black hair, plaited in small braids, +bobbed fiercely up and down and she shook her +stick threateningly ahead of her.</p> + +<p>During the whole scene Jack and Jean had +had their backs turned to the hunted girl. +Jack was blocking the way of the Indian +woman. Only Frieda had been able to see and +through her tears she had discovered that +the girl, who had been lying helpless on the +level ground only a few seconds before, had +now vanished completely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>Frieda smiled at Jack's and Jean's puzzled +expressions. "Indian girl! What did the +old woman mean?" The two girls looked +about. There was no one in sight. Evidently +the squaw had not intended to hurt Frieda and +Jack and Jean were anxious to get rid of her. +The next instant the Indian waddled on, +though she, too, had lost sight of the fragile +figure she was pursuing.</p> + +<p>Frieda walked over to the fire and stirred +it into a blaze without a word. She winked +mysteriously at Jean and Jack, but neither +of them had the faintest idea of what she +meant.</p> + +<p>"Let's fry the fish, before we go down into +the cave," Frieda whispered. "I don't want +the Indian to come along this way and find +out where it is."</p> + +<p>Jean and Jack knew that Frieda wished to +keep her playhouse a secret from all the +world, so they thought nothing of her odd +manner.</p> + +<p>Frieda was bending over the glowing ashes, +humming softly, with her cheeks rosy and +her two long blonde plaits fairly trembling +with excitement when she noticed the Indian +woman coming back toward them. She was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +alone. Evidently she had gone on for half +a mile or more before she decided it was useless +to hunt any longer.</p> + +<p>Frieda never looked up. The woman +sidled up to Jean and Jack with a wheedling +expression on her broad, stupid face.</p> + +<p>Jack and Jean paid no attention to her. +They were making a pile of shiny fish scales +into a silver hill at their feet, as it was their +part to clean the trout, while Frieda did the +cooking.</p> + +<p>The Indian eyed the two girls doubtfully. +She firmly believed that one of them had +helped the truant to escape, yet they had +not stirred from before her eyes, in the time +when the runaway girl threw her off the scent.</p> + +<p>"You know where my girl is, you hide her +from me," the woman said accusingly.</p> + +<p>Jean glanced at her in a bored fashion. +"Will you please go away?" she demanded. +"We are busy. We do not want to talk to +you. I told you that we had never seen any +Indian girl."</p> + +<p>Frieda did not move, but her rosy cheeks +burned a deeper red from the heat of the +flames.</p> + +<p>The squaw waddled slowly out of sight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +What did it matter if she had not caught +Olilie? The girl would soon have to return to +the hut. She could not live long alone out on +the plains and when she came back she should +be taught her place. Olilie was only a +squaw in spite of the nonsense she had learned +at the white people's school. She should do +the work and be the slave of the man chief, +like all Indian girls had from the beginning.</p> + +<p>"Jean, Jack," Frieda hissed softly. She +came over toward her cousin and sister with the +fish still sizzling and popping in her frying pan.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do be careful, Frieda," Jean begged. +Some of the hot fat sputtered out of the pan +into Jean's lap and she slid backwards off the +rock where she was seated.</p> + +<p>But Jack saw that something unusual was +the matter with Frieda.</p> + +<p>"What in the world has happened to you, +child? Your eyes are as big as saucers!" she +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Frieda set down her pan and though the +Indian woman was now well out of sight, she +whispered a few words that made both girls +jump to their feet.</p> + +<p>"Then there was an Indian girl all the +time?" Jean murmured.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>Frieda nodded. "We must find her," she +argued quietly. "She slipped over the side of +the gorge not far from here, when no one was +looking at her except me. She can't be very +far away for she was too tired to have gone +much further."</p> + +<p>"All right, Frieda," Jack agreed. "We +will look for the Indian princess as soon as we +have had our lunch. We must eat the fish +first, it is so brown and delicious. Really we +will have more strength to search if we have +some food," Jack pleaded, seeing Frieda's +injured expression.</p> + +<p>"She will get away, Jack," Frieda answered. +"Then she may be lost on the plains and +starve and nobody will ever find her. She +was so pretty and so frightened that I am +sure you would have been interested if you +had only seen her."</p> + +<p>Jack heaved a deep sigh. "Come along, +Jean," she insisted. "Frieda wants us to +look for the will-o-the-wisp, so look we must."</p> + +<p>Frieda was not tempestuous like Jack and +Jean, but, just the same, like a great many +other gentle people, she always had her way. +"Little Chinook," Jim used to call her, +because "Chinook" is the Indian name for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +soft, west wind, that blows so quietly, so +persistently, that it carries everything before +it. It even wafts all one's troubles away.</p> + +<p>Jack, Jean and Frieda crawled down into +the great cañon, among the giant rocks, +poking their noses into every opening, where +they thought it possible that anybody could +be concealed. There was no sign of any one, +though Frieda called and called, assuring the +runaway that the Indian woman had gone +back home.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid she must have fallen and +gotten hurt somehow, Jack," Frieda suggested, +when the three girls had explored for +half an hour.</p> + +<p>Jean turned resolutely upon the two sisters. +"I am very sorry, Frieda Ralston," she +announced firmly, "but I decline to look for +that tiresome girl another minute. I will be +fed. I don't see for the life of me, why you +are so worried over the fate of an unknown +Indian maiden, when your own devoted +cousin is perishing before your eyes."</p> + +<p>Frieda's cave was soon spread with the +luncheon dishes and the girls sat down Turkish +fashion, with their long-delayed feast in front +of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>Frieda's face was half buried in a ham +sandwich when Jean gave a sudden exclamation +of surprise. "Look, girls, there must +have been an earthquake or something +around here. There is a hole in the rocks +back of Frieda's cave, nearly as large as this +one. Funny we never noticed it this morning!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Frieda remarked +indifferently. "I was banging away there, +trying to make my pantry larger, when a huge +stone fell out and rolled into the gorge. Lo +and behold, there was another cavern! I +found some queer Indian relics in it. Come +see."</p> + +<p>Frieda led the way over to the new pit +and dropped down on her knees in front of it, +with Jack and Jean on either side of her. "I +was afraid to go inside until you came," she +said, "but it is quite empty,—look!"</p> + +<p>Frieda's breath gave out. She stared and +stared, clutching at her cousin and her sister. +The three girls were spellbound!</p> + +<p>Gazing at them from out the black darkness, +was what Frieda had feared at the first +moment of her discovery of the mysterious +cavity, a pair of burning, glowing eyes. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +might belong to some wild animal, though +they were not fierce, only timid and pleading.</p> + +<p>The ranch girls were not cowards, but not +one of them wished to enter the obscurity of +that strange hiding place.</p> + +<p>The figure stirred. The girls were now +more used to the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Why it's the Indian girl!" Frieda cried. +"Do come out, please. We won't hurt you +and the Indian woman has been gone a long +time."</p> + +<p>But the girl seemed to be afraid to move. +Frieda crawled fearlessly into the hole and +gave her little, white hand into the girl's thin, +dark one.</p> + +<p>As the Indian maid came out into the +bright, invigorating air, she tried to stand up, +but she swayed in the wind, like a scarlet +poppy that is trying to oppose its frail +strength to the blast of a storm.</p> + +<p>Before Jack and Jean could get to her and +in spite of Frieda's efforts, the girl took a step +forward, staggered and fell at their feet.</p> + +<p>As they picked her up, they discovered that +she was flushed with fever. But while Jean +washed her face with cool water and Jack held +her in her arms, she opened her mournful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +black eyes. "I am sorry to have troubled +you," she said, without a trace of an Indian +accent. "I have run away and I am tired. +If you will please give me some water and let +me stay here for a few minutes I am sure I +will be all right."</p> + +<p>But she was not all right, even though the +ranch girls persuaded her to eat something, +as well as to drink a cup of hot tea. She did +not seem to be able to move, but sat perfectly +still with her lovely dark head resting +between her slender hands. She did not try +to explain to them why she had run away from +home or when she expected to return.</p> + +<p>Jack glanced anxiously upward. They had +solemnly promised Jim to be back at the +ranch house before dark and the ranch girls +could tell the time of day from the position +of the sun in the sky. This was one of the +things they knew instead of French or drawing. +Unless they left the cañon pretty soon, +Jack knew they would never get home in +time; yet what could they do with Frieda's +Indian girl? They could not leave her in the +gorge alone, and yet she did not seem to have +the strength or the desire to go.</p> + +<p>Jack once had seen a copy of a wonderful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +picture of Ishmael in the desert, whom Abraham +had cast out with his mother, Hagar. +Hagar had gone to find some fuel and the +child is alone. Around him is a great, grey +plain, with nothing else alive on it. There +was something in this Indian girl's position, +her fragile grace, and dreadful loneliness, that +recalled this picture to Jacqueline Ralston's +mind. She put her arm gently over the other +girl's shoulder.</p> + +<p>The Indian maid looked up. Perhaps it +was the difference in her appearance and in +Jacqueline's that made her eyes fill with tears. +Jack's proud, high-bred face was softened to +pity. Her grey eyes were tender and the usual +proud curve to her lips was changed to an +expression that she seldom showed to any +one but Frieda or Jean since her father's +death.</p> + +<p>"We must go back to our home now," +Jack explained kindly, "but we can't leave +you here alone. Tell us why you ran away? +Don't you think you could return; or is there +anything we could do for you?"</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head. She was as tall as +Jean, but so thin that she might be only an +overgrown child. She seemed very young to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +Jacqueline; almost as young as Frieda and as +much in need of some one to take care of her.</p> + +<p>The three ranch girls were gazing intently +at the stranger.</p> + +<p>She flung her hands up over her face again. +"I can't go back, I can't," she insisted. +"You are to go away. I am not afraid. +Only let me stay in this ravine, until I can +find some place that is further away, where no +one can find me. I shall not be hungry, I can +hunt and fish. Only to-day I am tired." +She shook, as though she were having a chill.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline dropped down on the ground by +her side. Frieda and Jean were trying not +to cry.</p> + +<p>"You poor little thing, you know we can't +leave you here," Jack declared. "Won't +you? Can't you?" Jack looked appealingly +at Jean and Frieda. She was the oldest of +the ranch girls, but she never decided anything +without their advice. Both of them +nodded. "Don't you think you could come +home to the ranch with us, until you feel +better and can tell us what troubles you? +You are ill now and worn out. Why you +might even die if you stayed here alone."</p> + +<p>Jack did not wait for an answer. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +almost lifted the Indian girl to her feet and +brought her out of Frieda's cave. She helped +her upon her own pony, and getting up behind +Frieda, she led Hotspur and his new +rider to the beloved Rainbow Ranch house, +whose doors opened to admit not three girls, +but four.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE RESCUE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>WHEN Olilie, the Indian girl, came back +to consciousness, after being put to bed +at the ranch house, three days had passed. +She lay between broad sheets smelling of +violets and whiter than anything she had +ever seen, except the new snow on the prairies.</div> + +<p>Over in the corner of a big empty room sat +a strange little girl. She was sewing on +some small doll clothes and humming softly to +herself. Two braids like plaited silk of the +corn hung over her face. Olilie did not recall +ever having seen her before and had not the +faintest idea how she happened to be in this +wonderful place, instead of the dirty hut of +Laska the Indian woman and her son Josef.</p> + +<p>Some one else tiptoed softly into the chamber. +Olilie half closed her eyes. She remembered +this other face faintly, but where and +when had she seen it?</p> + +<p>"Hasn't she spoken yet?" a voice asked in +a disappointed tone. "I am so sorry, but +I simply have to ride over the range with Jim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +this morning. Some of the cattle keep disappearing. +If our patient wants to talk, +please don't let her tell you everything before +I get back. She must be kept pretty quiet."</p> + +<p>Just for a second, Olilie felt that a face +bent over hers. But she gave no sign of being +awake, although she now knew where she was +and how she happened to be there. It had +flashed across her memory—her flight, her +hiding and the meeting with the ranch girls. +She understood that she had been ill but was +going to get well again. The hot, uncomfortable +feeling had left her head, she had no +pain, only she was very weak and she did not +think that she could bear to go away from +this beautiful place. If only she could have +been ill a little longer!</p> + +<p>Olilie's wistful, black eyes were wide open, +when the bedroom door unclosed the second +time. She caught a glimpse of a tall, dark +figure and a wave of terror swept over her. +Already had Laska come to take her home?</p> + +<p>But the woman walked quietly up to the +bed, took one of Olilie's thin hands and gazed +at it earnestly, turning it over in her own brown +palm. She shook her head, smoothed up the +covers and nodded to Olilie not to try to talk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This girl has been brought up among +white people, hasn't she, Frieda?" Aunt +Ellen inquired softly.</p> + +<p>The blonde plaits moved slightly.</p> + +<p>"I am sure I don't know," came a faint +voice from between them. "We know nothing +about her, except what Jack told you. She +did not talk like an Indian, so I suppose she +has been to school. Her mother, from whom +she was running away, was a full-blooded +Indian but she don't look a bit like her." +Frieda lowered her voice still further. "Has +the Indian woman been here to inquire for +her daughter? Jack was afraid she would +find out who we were and come over here."</p> + +<p>Aunt Ellen gave her head a warning shake +and said something to Frieda that the sick +girl on the bed could not hear. But Frieda +jumped up and her bits of doll dresses scattered +about on the floor. "When will Jack +and Jim come back?" she demanded quickly. +"If we had only known before they went away!"</p> + +<p>"Known what?" Olilie asked, as naturally +as though she had been taking part in the +conversation all the time. "I am quite well +now, thank you. If you don't mind, I should +like to get out of bed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<p>Frieda's face turned quite red and her blue +eyes were round with surprise. She ran to +Olilie and threw her arms around her. "You +are well now, aren't you?" she exclaimed. +"I'm so glad. Just wait until I run and find +Jean. She won't like it unless I tell her at +once."</p> + +<p>"Child," Aunt Ellen queried, as soon as +Frieda went away, "is the Arapaho woman +who makes baskets and strings beads at the +end of the Wind Creek valley your mother and +is the lad Josef her son?"</p> + +<p>Olilie nodded. "I think so," she replied. +"At least I know of no other woman who is +my mother. I have lived with her always."</p> + +<p>"But you are not a full-blooded Indian +girl," Aunt Ellen argued, "although your +hair is so black and straight and your skin is +dark. Look," Aunt Ellen picked up the girl's +hand again. "See, your finger nails are pink +and that is not the case with the red or brown-skinned +people." Aunt Ellen opened the +girl's gown, and where her skin was untouched +by the sun and wind, it was a beautiful +olive color.</p> + +<p>Aunt Ellen lifted her up, wrapped her in +a blue dressing gown and sat her in Frieda's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +vacant chair. "It's a hard time ahead of you, +child," she murmured to herself. "Mixed +blood don't never bring happiness, when one +of 'em runs dark."</p> + +<p>Jean's and Frieda's faces both wore strange +expressions when they came back to their +guest. But Olilie did not know them well +enough to guess that anything unusual was +the matter.</p> + +<p>She stretched out both hands humbly and +took one of Jean's and one of Frieda's in her +own. "Won't you let me thank you for +keeping me here and let me tell you why I ran +away?" she asked gratefully.</p> + +<p>Jean shook her head nervously, her brown +eyes fastened on the tight-closed door, against +which Aunt Ellen stood like a body-guard. +"No, please don't try to tell us anything +now," Jean begged. "I am sure you are not +strong enough. And Jack, she is the oldest of +us, she would like you to wait until she comes +back this afternoon."</p> + +<p>The ranch house was built on one floor. +A long hall led straight through the centre of +it. There were four bedrooms beside the +living-room and Aunt Ellen's room, which +opened off the kitchen. Aunt Ellen and her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +husband, Zack, slept on the place and the old +man helped Frieda and Jean with their violet +beds. To-day he had ridden over to the +nearest village to see about the building of the +new greenhouses.</p> + +<p>A tramp of heavy feet echoed out in the +passageway. Jean kept on talking, as +though she wished to drown the sound. The +Indian girl did not seem to be disturbed. +She was too happy and too weak to care +much what was going on outside her room.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think I might tell you my +name at least?" she begged. "It is Olilie, +an Indian name. I don't know just what it +means. I—"</p> + +<p>There were no locks on the doors inside the +big hospitable ranch house. What need was +there of locking people either out or in, in +this great open western land?</p> + +<p>Yet Aunt Ellen kept her hand on the doorknob. +"You are not to come in here," she +insisted fiercely. "I told you to leave our +ranch."</p> + +<p>The door burst rudely open. The squat +ugly figure of Laska appeared inside the +room, followed by a young Indian boy, who +looked sheepish and ashamed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ugh," grunted the old squaw. "Did you +think we no find you? Come, git up. You +go with me." She pushed aside Frieda and +Jean, who were trying to guard the sick girl.</p> + +<p>Olilie's face was so white that no one could +have thought her an Indian. She could not +speak, she only clutched at the arms of her +chair as though nothing could part her +from it.</p> + +<p>Jean stamped her foot angrily. "Go out +of this house at once," she ordered angrily. +"How dare you thrust your way in here? +Your daughter is too ill for you to move her. +Besides, we are going to keep her here until +we find out whether you were cruel to her and +why she won't live with you."</p> + +<p>"No, no, I shall not live with her again," +Olilie burst out passionately. "I do not +mind the work or the blows, but I will not be +a squaw woman. I will not light the pipe, +clean the gun, hew the wood and fetch the +water for her son. At the school they have +taught me that a girl is a boy's equal. I will +not, because I am a girl, be a slave. Please, +please go." The Indian girl looked not at her +mother, but at Josef, the Indian boy. He +kept his head down and mumbled something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +that only Laska and Olilie could understand.</p> + +<p>Laska pointed toward the girl. Then her +eyes held her son. "Take her to the tepee of +her own people," she commanded. "I know +the laws of the white race are many and +strange, but they take not the child from her +mother, while she is yet young."</p> + +<p>Josef went toward Olilie, but Jean's body +covered her and he did not dare to thrust +the white girl aside.</p> + +<p>Frieda flung herself half way out the open +window. In front of the ranch was a grove +of cottonwood trees, to one side ran a long, +winding creek. There was no one in sight, +even their watch dog had followed Jack and +Jim across the range.</p> + +<p>Jean was trying bribery and corruption. +She had slipped her hand in her pocket +and brought out two bright silver dollars. +She held one up before the boy, the other +before old Laska. "I will give you these if +you will leave the girl with us for a few days +longer," she suggested.</p> + +<p>The Indian boy did not lift his hand. +He was gazing at the figure of his sister in the +chair. "I no take her, she sick," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +"I no want her to work for me. It is Laska +who make her. She not like other Indian +girl. She different somehow. She read books. +She talk like teachers at school."</p> + +<p>Laska seized the boy by the arm and +shook him roughly. "You no talk foolish," +she declared. "You bring girl home. We +take not white money. Always you try to +make the Indian sell big things for little."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if somebody would only come to +help us," Frieda thought despairingly. She +saw that Josef had picked Olilie up in his +arms. She felt like Sister Anne in the dreadful +story of Bluebeard. If she could see a +little cloud of dust arising somewhere down +the long road that led through the trees +from the far trail of the plains, she knew that +help would come to them! If only she could +catch sight of one of the cowboys returning +to the ranch!</p> + +<p>Frieda did spy a little dust along the trail +on the upper side of the creek. She seized +a white scarf from the table near by and +waved it <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'franticall yout'">frantically out</ins> the window. "Help! +Help! Jim! Jack! Somebody come quick! +We need you!" she cried.</p> + +<p>The Indian boy and woman waited, puzzled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +and alarmed by the noise that Frieda was +making.</p> + +<p>Frieda saw a rider catch sight of her +signal, plunge down the trail and through +the muddy creek, straight to the ranch house +door. She knew that it was some one whom +she had never seen before in her life, but it +did not make the least difference to her.</p> + +<p>"Won't you come in here?" she begged. +"The door is open. There are some Indians +trying to steal a girl away—" Frieda drew +her blonde head back inside the window, just +in time to see the stranger stalk into their +room.</p> + +<p>"Put the girl down," he commanded Josef +in a tone of authority. Nothing loath, the +Indian boy returned Olilie to her chair. +The newcomer then spoke to the surly Indian +woman. "You and your son leave this ranch +at once. It was fortunate that I learned that +you were coming here this morning. I rode +over just in time."</p> + +<p>The young man had brown hair and eyes. +His face was quite pale. He did not look +in the least strong, but there was something +in his quiet manner that showed he was +accustomed to being obeyed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We come back to get my girl, when she +well," the Indian woman threatened, as the +door closed behind her.</p> + +<p>There was an awkward silence when the +Indians had gone. The young fellow +immediately lost his grown-up manner and +seemed very uncertain and shy. He colored +and held his new cowboy hat in his hands.</p> + +<p>"I am awfully glad I turned up in time to +help you drive those people out of the house," +he declared. "I happened to hear that they +were coming over to your ranch to take the +Indian girl away from you to-day. If there +had been anybody to send over to tell you, +I wouldn't have come myself," he ended. +"Will you please tell the older Miss Ralston +this. I won't intrude on you any longer. +Good-bye."</p> + +<p>Jean laughed and held out her hand. +"Please don't go quite yet," she said. "At +least stay until we thank you. I know who +you are and Jack will be just as grateful to +you as Frieda and I are. You must not think +she is always so unfriendly. Aren't you Frank +Kent, the English fellow who is the guest of +the Nortons? Jack told us about you +But you see the Nortons are—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand," Frank Kent answered +quickly. "At least I have been told what the +trouble is between you, but I hope it may be +a mistake. I can't believe Mr. Norton and +Dan—" Frank stopped. Jean's and Frieda's +cheeks were crimson. He realized that he +had no right to talk about their private affairs. +Aunt Ellen was looking at him suspiciously.</p> + +<p>Frank Kent bowed. "I think I had better +go," he announced. Just as he started out +of the room, Jacqueline Ralston marched into +it. Every bit of color left her face and she +stared at him in blank astonishment.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>SEEKING ADVICE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>JEAN giggled. Frank Kent and Jack were +so funny. They both turned and glared +at her with reproachful eyes.</div> + +<p>"I hope you don't think I have intruded," +Frank protested hotly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, certainly not," Jack answered +with frozen politeness. "That is, at least,—I +don't understand."</p> + +<p>The scene was enough to have bewildered +almost anybody. The quiet room where Jack +had left the Indian girl half unconscious and +guarded only by tranquil Frieda, was now in +a state of suppressed excitement.</p> + +<p>Olilie lay back in her chair with the same +expression on her face that she had worn on +the day she was discovered. Aunt Ellen had +her eyes rolled back so that only the whites +were showing. Frieda was bouncing up and +down, she was so agitated, and Jean looked +as though she had been through the war. +And in the midst of the family group stood +the strange young fellow whom Jacqueline<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +had met on the Norton ranch and most cordially +requested not to make their acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Frieda rushed into the breach. "Oh, Jack, +the most awfullest thing almost happened!" +she exclaimed, clasping her hands and forgetting +her grammar in her hurry. "That +dreadful old Indian woman and a boy came +here and tried to drag Olilie away. I hollered +and hollered out the window for Jim or you +or anybody to come drive them off, and he +came," Frieda bobbed her head at their +visitor.</p> + +<p>She was so excited that Jean and Jack +laughed. But Frank Kent did not smile the +least bit. You see he was English and English +people don't see jokes quickly. Besides, +he was angry at Jack's first suspicion of him. +He guessed by her high and mighty manner +that she thought he had come to the ranch +against her wishes.</p> + +<p>He looked so stiff and unfriendly that +Jacqueline did not know what to say first.</p> + +<p>"Your cousin will tell you how I happened +to be near," he said icily, backing out the door.</p> + +<p>Jack rushed after him, nearly tripping over +the spurs on her riding boots. "Please don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +go quite yet," she begged. "At least let me +thank you for whatever you did." Jack had +a way of smiling suddenly that changed her +whole expression, and made people forgive her +almost anything. "Won't you please come +into the living-room and one of you tell me +calmly exactly what has happened, or I shall +simply die of curiosity."</p> + +<p>Jack led the way into the big, sunlit room, +followed by Jean and more slowly by Frank +Kent.</p> + +<p>"O! dear here's a kettle of fish," Jack +sighed, when Jean finished her story. She +didn't think of her slang till she saw Frank's +puzzled expression, then she blushed. "I am +afraid we can't keep this little Indian girl at +the ranch, Jean, if her own people will have +her," Jack went on. "You see I had a long +talk with Jim this morning. He says we +must not make the Indians in the neighborhood +angry with us. They will say we kidnapped +the girl, or something horrid. And +we have troubles enough without that." A +second after Jack was ashamed of having +spoken of their difficulties before a perfect +stranger.</p> + +<p>To tell the truth affairs were not going very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +well at Rainbow Ranch. The big creek +which ran along through Rainbow Valley for +nearly a mile and supplied their ranch with +water was almost dry in the middle of October. +There might soon be nothing for the cattle +and horses to drink until the winter snows fell. +Jim had confided to Jack that he suspected +some one was draining their creek by digging +a channel for the water lower down the valley. +He could not find out, but if it were true, it +meant ruin for the ranch girls! There was +another, even more serious difficulty, that +might be in store for them, but of this the girls +would not speak.</p> + +<p>"Has anything happened, Jack?" Jean +asked hurriedly.</p> + +<p>Jack shook her head. "Nothing unusual," +she replied. "Only I shall feel dreadfully +sorry if we have to send the Indian girl back +to her people. You and Frieda must not +think I am hateful if we find we have to."</p> + +<p>Frank Kent forgot his English shyness.</p> + +<p>"You girls are just bully to be fighting this +strange girl's battles," he broke in. "I wonder +if you wouldn't let me help you! I believe +there is something queer about her +parentage anyhow. Even an English duffer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +like I am, can tell by looking at her that she +isn't a full-blooded Indian."</p> + +<p>Frank's face turned red as a beet and he +stammered hurriedly. "Of course if you let +me help you in this, we need not know each +other afterwards."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline was as fiery red as her guest and +Jean giggled again.</p> + +<p>"We couldn't be as horrid as all that," +Jack declared in a straightforward fashion, +exactly like another boy would have done. +"We would not make use of you and then cut +you afterwards. And please don't be angry +with us, if I tell you again, that we simply +can't be anything but just acquaintances +with the Nortons' relatives or friends. You +understand, don't you?" Jack held out her +hand as though she did not know just what to +do or say. Jean wouldn't utter a word to +help her.</p> + +<p>Frank Kent shook Jack's hand warmly +and this time he did not seem offended.</p> + +<p>"All right," he answered sadly. "But if +there is ever anything I can do to help you, +I am going to do it, whether we are friends +or not."</p> + +<p>And though Jack and Jean did not see how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +this strange fellow could ever be mixed up in +their affairs, they were comforted somehow +by what he promised.</p> + +<p>"I am going over to Mrs. Simpson's this +afternoon, Jean," Jack announced a few +minutes after their guest's departure. "I +know people say that we ranch girls never +take anybody's advice, but just the same I am +going to ask Mrs. Simpson what we had better +do about this Indian child. Will you come +along?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson, the ranch girls' most intimate +friend, and her husband were the wealthiest +ranch owners in that part of Wyoming. She +was a typical Western woman, with a big heart +and a sharp tongue. She used to lecture the +girls and at the same time was awfully proud +of their courage and independence.</p> + +<p>"I'm game, Jack," Jean agreed, "but I +haven't any proper riding habit. I wouldn't +mind a bit if that wretched niece of Mrs. +Simpson's wasn't there. I wish you had seen +how she stared at me the other day when I +called Mrs. Simpson, Aunt Sallie, as though +we hadn't called her Aunt all the days of +our youth. Do you think Aunt Ellen could +mend this for me before we go?" Jean held<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +up a green broadcloth riding habit very much +the worse for wear, with a long ugly rent in it.</p> + +<p>"You need a new habit dreadfully, Jean," +Jack declared. "I am afraid we haven't any +really proper clothes. The worst of it is, I +don't know just what we ought to have or +where to get them. I wonder if we are too +much like boys?"</p> + +<p>"What's the odds, Jack, so long as we are +happy," Jean sang out cheerfully. "Besides, +Jim says that money hasn't been flowing in to +Rainbow Ranch any too plentifully lately. +It takes pretty much all he can get hold of +to run things, so I thought I wouldn't trouble +about another habit. But the idea of +that fashionable Miss Laura Post, from Miss +Beatty's school, New York City, staring at me +with her china-blue eyes does rattle me. She +and her mother treat us exactly as though we +were a Wild West show. Besides it is my +unpleasant impression that I had this same +tear in my skirt when I rode over to Aunt +Sallie's the last time."</p> + +<p>"Jean, you are lazy; why didn't you mend +it yourself?" Jack scolded. "You know +Aunt Ellen can't sew a bit. Isn't it dreadful +that little Frieda is the only one of us who ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +touches a needle and she has no one to show +her how to sew, poor baby. Come along, +I'll see what I can do with your old skirt. +Let's go in the Indian girl's room while I do +my worst, best, I mean."</p> + +<p>Olilie had very little to tell her rescuers of +her history. She could not explain why +Laska wanted her to live with her, because she +had always hated her and been unkind to her. +Olilie had but one friend, a teacher in the +Indian school in the Indian village in Wind +Creek valley. The sick girl did not talk so +freely before Jack, as she seemed a little +afraid of her, but she begged the girls to +find her a home at one of the ranch houses +where she might earn her living, for she +declared that she would never go back to the +"Crow's nest," as old Laska's hut was called.</p> + +<p>Jack and Jean galloped swiftly over the ten +miles that lay between their ranch and the +Simpson's. No one could grow tired, no +matter how long the ride, in this glorious +October air in Wyoming, as clear and sparkling +as crystal. The girls forgot their difficulties, +also they quite failed to remember +the languid young lady from the East who was +Mrs. Simpson's adored niece.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>A mile from the Simpson ranch house, Jean +stood up in her saddle and waved a challenge +to Jack. "Beat you to the veranda!" she +called back, loosening the reins on her pony's +neck and giving him a light cut with her quirt.</p> + +<p>Jean was off like a shot before Jack could +get a start. She reached the porch several +yards ahead of her cousin. But Jack was +determined not to be outclassed as a rider. +Just in front of the house was a row of hitching +posts about five feet high. "Clear the +track," Jack shouted.</p> + +<p>She thrust her feet forward in their long, +loose Western stirrups, threw her body back +and her pony rose in the air like a bird, +straight over the posts, and she landed at +Jean's side with a small Indian war-whoop of +triumph.</p> + +<p>A languid clap of hands from the front porch +and a horrified exclamation, made Jean's +cheeks burn and Jack's grey eyes kindle.</p> + +<p>"Buffalo Bill at his best! I congratulate +you," a soft voice exclaimed. "I wish you +had more of an audience."</p> + +<p>Jack laughed lightly. "Oh, we can do +ever so much better than that, when we try, +Miss Post; perhaps if you stay out West for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +while we may show you how to ride. We would +be glad to do anything for Aunt Sallie's +guest." Jack's tones were sweetly innocent, +but Jean snickered.</p> + +<p>Laura Post bit her lips angrily. "Teach +Laura to ride?" her mother protested indignantly. +"Why my daughter has been +trained in the best New York riding academies. +I am afraid they would not care for +your Western riding in Central Park."</p> + +<p>Jean did not see how in the world Jacqueline +could appear so undisturbed by the vision of +elegance which confronted them. Laura was +dressed in a soft cream flannel skirt and coat +with a pale blue blouse and wore a big felt hat +with a blue pompon on it, to shade her delicate +peaches-and-cream skin. Jean felt Laura's +eyes fasten on the long rent in her riding skirt, +which Jack had mended, with such an expression +of superior amusement that she wanted +to pull her hair or to scratch her, or to do +something else that was violent.</p> + +<p>Laura Post was a very pretty girl, all +daintiness and fluffiness. She had very light +curly hair and blue eyes, and she looked as +though she had never done anything for herself +in her life. Her mother was just like her,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +only a more faded and dressed-up edition. Jean +did not know why they both made her feel so +awkward, as though it were dreadfully inelegant +to have one's skin tanned and hair blown +by a long, glorious ride across the open country.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Post and Laura would not go when +Mrs. Simpson came out and sat down by the +ranch girls, holding Jean's hand in one of hers +and Jack's in the other, and wondering why +Jean, who was her favorite of the three ranch +girls, looked so hot and uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"The first thing for you to do, Jacqueline +Ralston, is to bring this Indian girl over here +for me to take a look at her," Mrs. Simpson +announced at the end of Jack's story. "I was +going to send a note over to you this very +afternoon. I want you children to come over +to spend a few days with us. I would like +Laura to have some real Western parties and +good times, and I think the best way is to +have you stay right here with us. There isn't +any other way to manage with you young +people so far from one another, so bring your +Indian girl to our house party. I confess I +am curious to see her."</p> + +<p>"You are awfully good, Mrs. Simpson, but +I am afraid we can't come," Jack answered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +gratefully. In spite of the fact that Laura +and her mother were both staring at her, +Jack went on: "You see we have not the +right clothes to stay on a house party. I am +afraid we don't even understand just what we +ought to have. Father did not know much +about girls' things and we have never had any +one else to tell us, and besides I don't think +your niece would like to have an Indian girl +for her guest. Olilie is awfully shy, and I +don't expect she would know how to behave."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson gave Jack a little shake.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Jacqueline Ralston, what perfect +foolishness you are talking! When did you +begin to worry about clothes? You know that +you and Jean are belles wherever you are. As +for Laura, I am sure she will be glad enough to +have the Indian girl and I'll look after the child. +I want to study her. If she is a regular Indian, +she would probably be hard to manage."</p> + +<p>Laura shrugged her pretty shoulders. "Oh +yes, please do bring the Indian maiden with +you," she remarked with an innocent, babyish +expression that fooled her Aunt but not her +visitors. "I am sure the Indian can't be +any queerer than the other people one meets +out West."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE ARRIVAL AT THE HOUSE PARTY.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"I CAN'T call you Olilie, it is too long and +too funny a name," Frieda announced.</div> + +<p>The four girls were being driven over to the +Simpson ranch in a big wagon, which was +used in the spring as one of the mess-wagons +at the round-up, when the cowboys brought +in the stock to be branded.</p> + +<p>Jack sat on the driver's seat with Jim; +Frieda, Jean and Olilie were on piles of straw +in the back. There was a big, rusty valise +between them which contained the entire +wardrobe of the four members of the house +party from Rainbow Ranch.</p> + +<p>Jean and Jack had even fewer costumes +than usual, for they had divided their belongings +with the Indian girl, and the valise +was the very same one that Mr. Ralston had +brought across the prairies with him fourteen +years before. It had never dawned on the +girls that it was shabby and old-fashioned +looking, as they had never traveled more +than a few miles from the ranch and knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +nothing of stylish suit cases and leather +hand-bags.</p> + +<p>Jack screwed her head around at Frieda's +words: "I wonder if you would mind our +calling you Olive, instead of Olilie," she suggested. +"It is ever so much easier to say, +and I have always thought Olive a perfectly +beautiful name. Besides you seem like a wild +olive, you are so pretty and Spanish-looking." +Jack spoke carelessly, not dreaming that +the young, captive girl had conceived the +deepest devotion to her. Olilie was grateful +to Jean and Frieda for their kindness +to her, but as long as she lived she would +remember that it was Jacqueline who had +put her arms about her and brought her to +the ranch house on the day she had decided +that she could bear life with old Laska no +longer. Olilie was too shy to show what she +felt, but Jack was to find it out some day in a +wonderful way.</p> + +<p>"I shall be very glad to have you call me, +Olive," she answered, in the musical tones +that surprised everybody acquainted with the +guttural sounds the Indians make in trying to +speak English.</p> + +<p>Jim turned to stare back of him. He was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +very much displeased with this latest escapade +of the ranch girls, and had no idea of giving his +consent to their keeping this girl. Already +he had ridden over to tell Laska and Josef that +they could have her back in a few days. +Frieda and Jean were treating this Indian +wench like a sister, and a stop had to be put +to their nonsense. Jim swallowed hard as +he caught sight of Olilie whom he had seen +but a few times before to-day: "Kind of wish +the girls had never run across this one," he +muttered to himself. "They have got plenty +to do to take care of themselves."</p> + +<p>Olilie looked to-day as you would imagine +a gypsy maiden appeared long years ago in +her own land of Romany. She had on a +faded blue gown of Jean's and a cape of Jack's; +her hair was parted in the middle, like Jack's +and Frieda's and plaited in two braids, coming +way down over her low broad forehead. Her +eyes were long and narrow, of a clear burning +black, her skin a dark olive and her color +spread all over her cheeks instead of centering +in single, bright patches.</p> + +<p>"Jack," Jim whispered, "don't you say too +much at the Simpson's about keeping this +Indian girl at Rainbow Ranch and don't you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +be telling anything at this house party about +what is worrying us. What we want to do is +to keep mum and fight our own battles; if we +get the Indians against us, the cattle and +horses will disappear faster than they are +going now."</p> + +<p>There were at least a dozen young people, +the sons and daughters of the most prosperous +ranchmen in that part of Wyoming, scattered +all about the front of the Simpson ranch +house when the girls drove up in their old +wagon. An automobile stood in front of the +door, for Mr. Simpson was an up-to-date +cattleman and rode around his vast place in +a sixty horse-power machine, instead of on +the back of a shaggy broncho.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah for the Ranch Girls of Rainbow +Lodge!" some one shouted. Jack and Jean +and Frieda waved their hands, but Olive was +too frightened to stir.</p> + +<p>The girls tumbled out of the wagon one +over the other, trying to speak to all their +friends at once. People did not see each +other every day out West as they do in +smaller places, and a house party like Mrs. +Simpson's was a notable event.</p> + +<p>Frieda kept tight hold on Olive, knowing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +that she was feeling shy and the little girl was +glad to have a companion herself, as most of +the other young people were older.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson stared curiously at her unknown +visitor. Then she patted her kindly. +"Laura does not see that you have come," +she explained to the little group.</p> + +<p>Jack and Jean glanced up at one end of the +long veranda. Laura could plainly see their +arrival. But she made no effort to welcome +them. She was talking to two boys.</p> + +<p>"Children, perhaps I ought to have told +you," Mrs. Simpson whispered, "I simply +had to invite Dan Norton and his guest to our +house party, for Laura likes Dan better than +any one she has met in the neighborhood. +And I don't approve of you girls carrying on +an old feud simply because your father and +Dan's were enemies."</p> + +<p>Jack had her head in the air and her cheeks +were scarlet. Jean openly rebelled: "You +ought to have told us, Aunt Sallie, you know +we have a perfect right to hate those Nortons," +she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Of course we will be as polite as we know +how," Jacqueline agreed. But, Mrs. Simpson +frowned; she knew Jack's high temper and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +she feared there would be a clash between her +and Dan before the house party was over.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Miss Ralston, and Miss +Bruce and Frieda," Laura Post said frigidly, +holding her hand so high up in the air to +shake hands that it almost touched her nose. +"I suppose you know Mr. Norton and his +guest, Mr. Kent." Laura had not paid the +least attention to the existence of the Indian +girl. Olilie might have been a wooden image.</p> + +<p>Jack bowed coldly as though she were +speaking to perfect strangers. But Jean's +brown eyes laughed and Frieda held out her +hand innocently to Frank Kent: "I am +awfully glad to see you again," she said. +"See, things are quite all right so far. We +still have our new friend with us."</p> + +<p>Jack could not help flashing a grateful look +at Frank Kent. He came over at once and +bowed in his best English fashion to Olive, +and then stood by her while the others were +talking.</p> + +<p>"There goes the latest addition to the +wonderful maidens who are running their +own ranch," Laura breathed in an undertone +to Dan Norton, as the newcomers moved +toward the door to go to their rooms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dan laughed. "Their ranch, did you say? +We have a different idea over at our place as +to whom Rainbow Ranch belongs. Those +girls are a bit too sure of themselves; I expect +to see their pride taken down a peg or +two some day."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" Laura whispered +excitedly, her cheeks getting pinker and her +eyes sparkling from curiosity.</p> + +<p>Dan shrugged his shoulders and waited +until he was sure that Frank could not hear +him. "Oh, we don't talk about it much out +here; remember I am telling you this in the +strictest confidence," he went on. "But +Rainbow Ranch actually belongs to my +father and me. You see, it is like this: +Father came to Wyoming before Mr. Ralston +did. And father and some friends laid claim +to the best part of the Ralston ranch. Mr. +Ralston says he bought the ranch from +father's friends and father says he had +already purchased their part. So you understand +the mix-up. But the bully thing is, +that since Mr. Ralston's death the girls have +never been able to find his title to the property. +They haven't a sign of a paper to prove they +are the owners of Rainbow Ranch. Court<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +records did not use, to be kept very well in +Wyoming. We are not sure about it, but +father is working quietly. Some day we will +bring suit and just take possession of their +place; won't it be corking? Rainbow Ranch +is right next ours, and when we get it we will +have the biggest ranch in this part of the +state. If you stay out here long enough, +you may see some fun."</p> + +<p>Laura nodded eagerly. She did not like +the ranch girls, besides she was one of the +disagreeable persons who dearly love to see +other people in hot water. She did not mind +how much it hurt them so long as it did not +affect her. "No, I will never tell anybody +what you have told me," she agreed confidentially. +"Only if anything should develop, +you will be sure to tell me about it, won't +you?" she begged.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A VISIT TO OLD LASKA.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"JACK, Aunt Sallie will take us over to the +Indian village this afternoon if you wish +to go," Jean said next day.</div> + +<p>Jean and Jack thought they were entirely +alone. They did not realize that the +door of the little room next theirs, which +Frieda and the Indian girl occupied, was +open.</p> + +<p>"Why should we go to the village, Jean?" +Jack inquired indifferently. She had just +discovered a thrilling novel and she wanted +to be left in peace to read it.</p> + +<p>"Because something has to be done about +Olive at once," Jean insisted valiantly. "You +know perfectly well, that it isn't fair for us to +keep her in suspense about what is to become +of her and then maybe turn her off and send +her back to old Laska in the end. We must +find out if there is any chance of her not being +Laska's real child and if not, what right she +has to her. Aunt Sallie says she will keep +Olive here as a maid for Laura if we don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +want her at the ranch and we can get her +away from the Indians."</p> + +<p>"Maid for Laura!" Jack bit her lips indignantly. +Jean kept her face turned away, +so that Jack could not see her expression. +She knew that her cousin was very undecided +about what they ought to do with their +protegée and was anxious to influence Jack +for Olive's sake.</p> + +<p>"I don't think that Olilie—I mean Olive—is +very well suited for such a distinguished +position as maid to Miss Laura Post," Jack +replied. "I think if I were the Indian girl I +should prefer to remain with the Indians. +Of course I will go over to the village with you +and Aunt Sallie whenever you like."</p> + +<p>Jean put her arm around her cousin. +"You won't be cross about something if I +tell you, will you?" she urged coaxingly.</p> + +<p>Jack frowned. "I don't know, Jean Bruce, +what is it now?" she demanded, for she could +guess by the half mischievous, half conciliatory +expression in Jean's brown eyes, that +she had something to confide which would +not be to her liking.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Sallie has asked Frank Kent to +drive over to the Indian village with us,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +Jean returned. "You see he has never seen +an Indian village, and being an Englishman, +Aunt Sallie naturally thought he would be +curious about one. So after all he is going to +help us to find out about Olive, although you +refused to allow him. Funny, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>This was a very unwise fashion for Jean +Bruce to have explained the situation to Jack, +for if there was one thing which Miss Jacqueline +Ralston did particularly like, it was to +have her own way. Having said that she +desired no assistance from their new acquaintance +in their efforts for Olilie, she was not +going to be forced into accepting it against +her will.</p> + +<p>Jack quietly removed her big Mexican hat, +sat down comfortably in her chair and reopened +her book. "Oh, very well," she +remarked carelessly. "Then I won't go with +you at all. My presence won't be in the least +necessary. You and Aunt Sallie and Mr. +Kent can make all the investigations and +decide what is best to do without any interference +from me."</p> + +<p>Jack arched her level brows, dilated her +nostrils and half closed her eyes. Jean knew +that particular obstinate expression of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +cousin's and said nothing more for a few +moments, but put on her own coat and hat +and started to leave the room. At the door +she turned to her cousin. "Jacqueline Ralston," +she inquired coolly, "has it ever +occurred to you, that you are a very hard-headed +and selfish person?"</p> + +<p>Jack's grey eyes grew steely. "Oh, do go +on, Jean dear," she urged politely. "Tell me +any other nice things you know about me; +one always is appreciated by one's relatives."</p> + +<p>Jean flushed. "Don't be so hateful, Jack," +she pleaded. "Can't you see that it is selfish +of you to refuse to go with us to try to +find out about Olilie? You brought her home +to the ranch, and you know you will be able +to stand up for her and find out more about +her than either Aunt Sallie or I can. Aunt +Sallie means well, but goodness knows she +isn't tactful. And you know you are obstinate +to stay at home simply because Frank +Kent is to go with us. Aunt Sallie did not +know what you had said to him, and simply +wanted to show him one of our modern Indian +settlements. It is one of the things he came +West to see."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't blame Aunt Sallie," Jack<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +replied, slightly appeased by Jean's half-hearted +apology.</p> + +<p>"Well, you needn't blame Frank Kent, +either," Jean retorted quickly. "You can +put every bit of the blame on me. Frank +Kent told Aunt Sallie that he did not think he +would care to go with us and behaved so +queer and stiffish that she was offended with +him. I knew he was thinking about what you +had said, so I just marched up to him and +told him that if he had refused Mrs. Simpson's +invitation because he thought you would not +wish him to come along with us, he was entirely +mistaken. You see I thought you would +not want him to give up the pleasure of the +trip, just on your account. He is a guest +here with us and I can see no sense in your +being so uppish. It is perfectly foolish, Jack." +This time Jean opened the door. "Jacqueline +Ralston, c-h-u-m-p spells chump. It is +exactly what you are."</p> + +<p>Jack's bad tempers had a way of ending +abruptly. "Wait a minute, please, Jean," +she called persuasively, "I expect you are +right. I will come along."</p> + +<p>Jean gave Jack a hug as they went out of +the room together, which was intended to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +convey the idea that, though what she +had just said to her cousin was perfectly +true, she was sorry to have been obliged to +say it.</p> + +<p>Jack had another shock as she was about +to get into the Simpson motor car. Seated +on the comfortable rear seat and engaged in +airy conversation were Dan Norton and +Laura Post with Mrs. Simpson beside them. +Jean and Jean's special friend, Harry <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Pryer'">Pryor</ins> +occupied the centre chairs. So Jack and +Frank Kent, as the car only held seven +people, were compelled to crowd in front with +the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"You are sure you don't mind my going +over with you," said Frank Kent in an +apologetic tone and turning a deep red. "I +can just as easily stay at the ranch, if you +prefer it."</p> + +<p>No girl could be proof against such good +manners as Frank Kent's, certainly not +Jacqueline Ralston.</p> + +<p>The Indian village was not so very far from +the Simpson ranch, in the way that Western +people count distances. Pretty soon the +automobile party saw circles of smoke arising +in the air. On a rounded green slope of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +prairie near a little river was a collection of +wigwams and huts.</p> + +<p>"I am jolly glad some of the Indians still +live in tepees." Frank confided to Jack. "I +was dreadfully afraid that your up-to-date, +government-cared-for 'Injun,' was going to +be just like everybody else and wear store +clothes and live in a regular American house, +and then what could I have to tell my people +when I go back home to England?"</p> + +<p>Frank was staring ahead of him and for the +first time since his first meeting with Jack, he +had entirely gotten over his British shyness.</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry," Jack answered gaily. +"I am awfully glad you have come with us. +Now you'll see the real thing! Of course, +some of our Indians have been educated and +civilized, but I am sure many of them are just +the same in their hearts as they used to be, +and would lead the same kind of lives if they +had a chance. I can tell you they try to get +their revenge, if you make them angry!"</p> + +<p>There were a number of lean horses grazing +near the village. The streets were dreadfully +dirty and overflowing with thin, brown children +rolling in the sand and playing with +wolfish, half-fed dogs. In front of the rude<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +huts or the cone-shaped tents with sheafs of +poles extending through their tops, were big +Indian men, as solemn, silent and terrifying +as though they had been Indian war chiefs +meditating on some terrible massacre. Most +of them wore fringed leather trousers and had +bright blankets wrapped about them. They +were calmly smoking, and only barely turned +their narrow eyes to glance at the automobile, +as it passed by them.</p> + +<p>Near most of the dwellings were outdoor +fires, with pots boiling above them, as few of +the Indians can make up their minds to use +kitchen stoves instead of their familiar campfires. +Old women sat near the fires, stringing +bright beads, or weaving mats. Some of +them were making Indian blankets on rude +frames of logs, set upright some feet apart, +and strung with cords, like an old-fashioned +wooden loom.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur slowed down and the girls and +boys could see that the Indians were talking +about their party, making queer sounds and +signs to one another. The women rushed out +with trinkets to sell, the children sat cross-legged +in the dirt, the dogs barked and young +women with babies on their backs crept out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +of their doors. But among the whole number, +there was no sign of Laska or Josef.</p> + +<p>Laura bought quantities of Indian bead-work +and pottery. She would not let her +Aunt inquire for the Indian girl's people until +she had seen everything there was to be seen. +Frank timidly offered Jack a string of blue +beads, when he saw that Jean had accepted a +small gift from Harry Pryor, and Jack received +them very graciously, wishing to show that she +no longer resented Frank's having made the +trip.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me where to find the home +of Laska?" Mrs. Simpson inquired of an +Indian girl, who looked more intelligent than +the others and spoke very good English.</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head. "Don't know," she +replied stupidly. Mrs. Simpson asked half a +dozen other people. Some of them spoke, others +only grunted dully. "Crow's Nest," Laska's +hut, had apparently never been heard of.</p> + +<p>"Let's don't waste time asking questions, +Aunt Sallie," Jack called back. "The Indians +won't tell you about each other unless they +know what you want. Let's drive straight to +the school; Olilie's teacher can best tell us +what to do."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the midst of the Indian village were +three well-built houses, the trading store, a +small church and the school. Mrs. Simpson +and Jack went into the schoolhouse together +and were gone for half an hour. When they +came out, Jack's face was crimson with excitement +and Mrs. Simpson looked deeply +interested. She entered the car after telling +her chauffeur exactly how to find old Laska's +hut, but neither she nor Jack gave any account +to the others of what the teacher at the Indian +school had told them of Olilie.</p> + +<p>Jean could not bear it. She gave Jack a +little shake. "What are you so mysterious +about?" she questioned softly. "Olilie is not +Laska's child, is she? You have found out +something about her and you don't dare tell."</p> + +<p>Jack hesitated. "It is queerer than we +thought," she confessed. "Mrs. Merton, Olilie's +teacher, does not think that Olilie is +Laska's child, but she has no way of proving it. +The funny thing is, she says that Laska gets +money each month for taking care of Olilie +and that is why she does not wish to give her +up. No one knows who sends her the money +nor where it comes from, Mrs. Merton says. +But maybe if we tell Laska that she can keep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +this money if she lets us have Olilie, she will +give her up to us. Mrs. Merton has tried to +get Olilie away from Laska herself and to find +out more about her, but she has never learned +the least little thing."</p> + +<p>Laska's hut was better than many of the +other Indian houses, being made of timber +plastered with mud and with a dirt roof. The +door was half open, but it was impossible to +tell whether any one inside saw the approach +of the automobile.</p> + +<p>Jack and Jean ran up the path ahead, +without waiting for Mrs. Simpson and were +almost at Laska's door when a low, savage +growl stopped them. Jean stepped back a +moment and clutched at Jack's skirts, but +Jack went on without thinking of danger. +She only half heard Jean's cry of warning as +she lifted her hand to knock on the door. +In that second a great, grey figure sprang +up in front of her and Jack saw two rows of +sharp teeth on a level with her throat. She +had lived all her life among the wild animals +of the prairies and of the ranch, and knew that +if, in a second of danger, she flinched or showed +cowardice, she was lost. How she was able +to stand perfectly still for that second she did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +not know, for a moment later, she gasped and +turned white as a sheet, but Jean and Mrs. +Simpson caught her. Frank Kent had managed +in some remarkable fashion to get in +front of Jack and strike down the huge brute +with his stick. A few minutes later Laska +came to the door of her hut. She had seen +Jean and Jack approaching alone and had +not known what friends they had with +them.</p> + +<p>A long and useless conversation followed. +Laska would give no satisfaction about Olilie, +insisting that the girl was her child, that she +knew nothing of any money that came for +her care. Josef was away, but they both +wanted the girl to return home.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson grew weary of argument and +pleading. "Look here, Laska," she said at +last, "we are not going to allow the Indian +girl to come back to you. Any one could +look at you both and see that she is not your +own child, and if you try to get her away from +us or to molest her in any way, I shall make +it my business to find out who sends you +money for her and you shall have neither +the money nor the girl."</p> + +<p>Laska made no further objection, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +neither Jean, nor Jack, nor Frank Kent liked +the expression of her face, as she watched +them leave her cabin. She made a sign of +some kind in the air and mumbled a curious +Indian incantation that had a menacing +sound.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE ESCAPE FROM THE DANCE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"IT is all settled, Laura dear," Mrs. Simpson +announced comfortably as the automobile +drew up in front of her ranch-house door. +"The Indian girl is to stay with us and be +your maid, as your mother says you are accustomed +to having some one to look after you, +and Mrs. Merton tells me she has taught this +Olilie how to behave about a house. She +seems to have made quite a pet of her. I +haven't talked it over with Jean and Jack yet, +but I am sure it would be most unwise for +them to attempt to keep the Indian girl at +their ranch. They have Aunt Ellen and Zack +to do their work, and indeed they ought to +have some one to look after them, instead +of undertaking to care for some one else." +Mrs. Simpson nodded emphatically. She was +fond of giving advice, a little more fond than +Jean and Jack were of receiving it.</div> + +<p>The ranch girls said nothing, but Frank +broke in to the conversation, unexpectedly. +"Oh, I say, Mrs. Simpson," he remarked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +thoughtfully. "Don't you know, this Olilie, +or Olive as you sometimes call her, don't +strike me in the least as belonging to the servant +class. Of course we look at these things +differently in England from what you do out +West, but this girl is so gentle and refined, it +seems to me she ought to have a real chance."</p> + +<p>Jack smiled gratefully, with her head +turned away. "I think so too," she murmured +to herself. "I only wish we knew how +to manage it."</p> + +<p>The house party was to have a dance at the +ranch house that evening. Jean and Jack +and Frieda had never had any real dancing +lessons, but the two older girls were accustomed +to going to the informal parties at the +other ranch houses. They knew how to dance +the waltz, two-step and quadrille, and it never +occurred to them that Laura would try to +introduce the new style dances at their +Western party. Of course some of her guests +had been to schools in the big Western cities +and understood the latest dances. Dan Norton +had spent a year at the Leland Stanford +University, and, though he had not been able +to pass his Sophomore exams., he considered +himself very superior to the boys and girls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +who had never been away either to college +or school.</p> + +<p>The three ranch girls were not worried about +their dancing, but they were about their costumes. +Mrs. Simpson had suggested that +Olive would feel shy, if she came to the party, +and she was grateful to be left out. If only +Jean and Jack would tell her what they had +found out at the Indian village, and what they +meant to do with her! But the girls did not +realize that the Indian girl knew anything of +their trip of the afternoon or that she was +eating her heart out in silence rather than ask +them what had occurred.</p> + +<p>Jean shook out her party dress anxiously; +Jack surveyed hers with an expression half of +affection and half of disdain. The dresses +were their best last summer frocks and Jim +had gone over to Laramie and brought them +home with him in triumph. They were not +what the girls would have chosen for themselves, +but they had been proud of them until +to-night.</p> + +<p>"Do you think she will laugh at us, Jack?" +Jean inquired, bravely. "I am sure I don't +care if she does."</p> + +<p>At least poor Jim had had a good eye for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +color, if the materials he had chosen for the +girls' gowns were odd.</p> + +<p>Jean's was a soft rose color, just the shade of +the wild rose that covers the western prairies +in the early spring and the girl smiled slightly +as she looked at herself critically in the glass. +The gown was becoming to her nut-brown hair +and eyes and her clear, colorless skin.</p> + +<p>Jack was dressing Frieda in a corner. +"You are pretty as a picture, Jean!" she +insisted. "Please don't care so much about +what Laura Post may think. Come and kiss +Frieda, she is sweet enough to eat."</p> + +<p>Frieda's costume was the prettiest of the +three, although it was of coarse white embroidery, +such as only a man would buy. +Her long blonde hair was freshly braided and +tied with pale blue ribbons, and around her +plump little waist was a blue sash which +in color matched her eyes, sparkling now +from excitement at attending her first dance. +Jean marched Frieda over to a chair and held +her in her lap, so that Jack could get ready to +go to the reception room with them.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline Ralston thought little about her +own appearance. She probably knew she +was pretty, most pretty people are aware of it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +but Jack had really had so much to do and +so many things to think about, that she had +almost none of the vanities of most girls of +sixteen. She coiled her gold-brown braids +around her head in simple fashion, though she +usually wore them down, as it was so difficult +to keep her hair up when she was on horseback. +But to-night, in honor of the party, she wished +to look more grown up. Jack's hair waved +from the roots to the ends and broke out all +over her forehead in wayward curls and was +particularly becoming to her, arranged in a +simple coronet. In five minutes she had on +her blue cotton crêpe gown and the three +went into Mrs. Simpson's big living-room.</p> + +<p>The room had a hardwood floor and had +been charmingly decorated with evergreens, +which the men had brought in from the +woods at the far end of the Simpson Ranch.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jack, Jean, look!" Frieda suddenly +gasped. A vision of fashionable loveliness +swept before their girlish eyes. Miss Laura +Post was crossing the room followed by her +mother. Jack and Jean felt like creeping +back to their bedroom, not realizing how +inappropriate Laura's and her mother's +costumes were for such a simple home party.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>Laura was a picture and looked as if she had +just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. +She wore a white lace gown over silk and +chiffon, trimmed in silver lace. Her hair was +elaborately dressed in a bewildering mass of +small, blonde puffs and around her neck a +string of pearls shone softly. Mrs. Post was +in violet satin, and wore a diamond crescent, +which made Frieda's round eyes open wider +and wider. She had never seen real diamonds, +only their crystal imitations shining +in the great Wyoming rocks.</p> + +<p>For a little while Jean and Jack felt as +dowdy as old rag dolls, but when the dancing +began they forgot to care about their clothes. +There were a number of other guests besides +the house party, who had driven over to the +dance, and most of them were friends of the +ranch girls.</p> + +<p>Frank did not ask Jack to dance nor did he +make any effort to talk to her. She had said she +could not be friends with him and he did not +mean to take advantage of their being at the +same house party together, to thrust himself +upon her, as his attentions seemed unwelcome.</p> + +<p>After supper, Laura Post grew tired of the +simple old-fashioned waltz which had entertained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +her visitors the first of the evening, +and insisted that the Spanish waltz was the +newest thing in her set, and that she wanted +to try it. She managed to get half a dozen +young people to attempt it with her while +others sat around the wall.</p> + +<p>Jean dearly loved to dance, and had no +intention of being a wall flower, so she and +Harry Pryor slipped out on the big ranch +veranda to talk. It was a wonderful moonlight +night, as clear and brilliant as the day, and +across the wide stretch of lowlands the moon +shimmered and shone, as if reflected on the +still surface of the ocean.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline Ralston saw Jean and Harry +disappear; slowly she followed them and +stood for a moment drinking in the wonderful +beauty of the Western night, then crossed +to Jean and Harry.</p> + +<p>"Jean, Harry, wouldn't it be a glorious +night for a ride?" she asked breathlessly. +"Do you think it would be wrong if we should +go for a little run across the prairies? We +could easily find the trail, for it is as bright as +daytime."</p> + +<p>Jean clapped her hands softly. "Bully!" +Harry announced quietly. "It is not ten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +o'clock yet and we can be back long before the +dance breaks up. I'll go saddle the ponies +while you girls slip into your riding togs."</p> + +<p>"Be sure to get Hotspur and Frisk, Jean's +pony," Jack entreated. "Jim sent over our +own ponies from the ranch, and I simply hate +to ride any horse but dear little Hotspur."</p> + +<p>Just as Jean and Jack slipped into the +front hall to go to their room, Frank Kent +stepped out on the porch. He was looking +pale and ill, for the heat of the room and the +effort of dancing had brought the old weakness +back on him that he had felt only a few +times since his coming to Wyoming.</p> + +<p>Jack felt a sudden wave of sympathy and +friendliness. She touched Frank lightly on +the arm: "My cousin and I and Harry Pryor +are going to steal away from the dance for a +little horseback ride. Would you care to +come with us?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Frank's face lost most of its pallor. He +immediately insisted that the one thing in the +world he most wished to do was to take a moonlight +ride across the prairies.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later the two girls and two +boys cantered away from the Simpson ranch. +They had no thought of staying out long, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +had left word with Mrs. Simpson's maid that +they would be back in about an hour. Aunt +Sallie was too busy with her other guests to be +interrupted, and it never dawned on the girls +that they should not have gone for a ride at +night, for they were just like a couple of careless +boys.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>JACQUELINE'S MISFORTUNE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>TO one side of Mr. Simpson's big ranch lay +a new orchard. The ranch people in +Wyoming were just beginning to discover what +wonderful fruit could be grown in certain +portions of their cattle country and Jean and +Jack were dreadfully envious of their neighbor's +five acres of pears, plums, apples and +cherries. Their own poor orchard had been +set out only two years before and the trees +appeared like a collection of feeble switches.</div> + +<p>"Let's ride through the orchard and fill our +pockets with apples before we start on our +way," Harry suggested. The moonlight was +so clear and radiant that the boys could distinguish +the color of the few late apples that +still hung on the trees. The road back of the +orchard led to a trail across the prairies, +which neither the ranch girls nor Harry knew. +It seemed to travel to the land of nowhere +across a shining path of light.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline took the lead, followed by Frank<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +Kent, Jean and Harry. The ponies had been +all day in the corrals and some of the witchery +of the October night had gotten into them as +well as their riders. They galloped swiftly, +their shaggy manes shaking and their long +tails arched, and soon left the level lands of +their host's ranch far behind.</p> + +<p>"I never had such a wonderful ride in my +life!" Frank Kent exclaimed. "How utterly +still the night is!"</p> + +<p>Jack's hands hardly touched her reins and +she laughed joyously. "Oh, that is because +we are out on the prairie and going too swiftly +for you to hear. Over there where we see a +line of shadow, I believe we will find some +water and a grove of trees. Then you will +hear the noises of the night, which are part +of our Western life."</p> + +<p>Jack and Frank slowed down. Jean and +Harry were a short distance behind them. +They had ridden to the edge of a ravine, and +across the gorge was a solitary butte or low +mountain. On this side the moonlight fell +on a stretch of evergreen forest, whose tall +trees rose black between the splashes of light.</p> + +<p>"Listen," Jack whispered softly.</p> + +<p>First came the mournful call of the wildcats<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +from the depth of the ravine, then, near the +entrance to the woods, the whimper and +squeak of the owls.</p> + +<p>Frank caught a sound which the last few +weeks in Wyoming had taught him to understand, +the long melancholy wail of the coyotes, +the wolf dogs of the prairies. But to-night +the howl was deeper and more prolonged.</p> + +<p>"What was that?" Frank asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Wolves, I suppose," Jack answered with +perfect calmness. "There may be a few of +them prowling about. They often come +out at night at some distance from the +ranches."</p> + +<p>Jean and Harry cantered up. "Hasn't the +ride been just too beautiful?" Jean sighed. +"I can't bear to think we must turn back to +go home."</p> + +<p>"Home? Why it's not late," Harry argued, +but Jean shook her head.</p> + +<p>"We have got to try the forest trail for just +a little bit of the way, Jean," Jack pleaded +recklessly. "We won't go far in. It will be +like fairyland in there to-night. See how +plain the trail is, there must be water somewhere +and the trail was made by the deer and +antelope on the way to the pool to drink.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +To-night I shan't believe that anybody knows +of these woods but us."</p> + +<p>Jack did not wait for an answer. She would +not listen to Jean's remonstrance, for all the +willfulness in her was aroused and she thought +only of her own desire.</p> + +<p>She turned Hotspur's head into the woods. +There was no chance to ride beside her, as the +way was too narrow, so the rest of the party +followed in single file.</p> + +<p>"You ought to have let me go on ahead, +Jack," Harry declared in a worried tone. +"You know nothing of this trail and you may +come to grief!"</p> + +<p>Jacqueline laughed teasingly. "Don't be +preachy, Harry. You know Hotspur and I +are used to looking after ourselves." Jack +whistled like a naughty boy:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"On the road to Mandalay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Where the flying fishes play,"—</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>and waved her hand to the others to follow +her at a sharper pace.</div> + +<p>"Jack's awfully silly to-night," Jean remarked +to Frank Kent. "I hope Aunt Sallie +won't mind, but there is nothing for us to do +but to keep up with her. We won't get back +to the ranch until awfully late."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>Frank hesitated. "Look here, Miss Bruce, +I know I am a tenderfoot, but do you think +we ought to go into these woods at night? +Don't think, please, that I am afraid for myself. +But Miss Ralston just told me that there +might be wolves about. I am not armed, +though I believe that Harry has his pistol. +I should hate to have you get in trouble."</p> + +<p>Jean understood Frank Kent better than +Jacqueline did. To tell the truth, he seemed +a bit slow to Jack, she liked people with more +get up and go, more fire and energy in them. +But Jean guessed that Frank had plenty of +strength and courage beneath his quiet manner, +and Jean was right.</p> + +<p>"Wolves don't attack parties, not once in a +thousand times," Jean explained simply. +"And we are making entirely too much noise +to be in any danger. It is the solitary individual +the wolves like to get after. They are +such mean cowardly wretches."</p> + +<p>Frank Kent smiled grimly. The ranch girls +were a puzzle to him, they talked about +wolves and bears and wild cattle as calmly +as most girls spoke of dogs and cats and +canary birds, and Frank could see that they +were not putting on airs. They would not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +have gone deliberately into danger any more +than a sensible fellow would have done; but +Jean and Jack had grown up in a country +where men had lived by the killing of wild +game. Their house was filled with the skins +of wild animals, shot by their father and the +cowboys from their place. While they were +still little children they had been taught the use +of a gun. Jack often had been on hunting +trips with her father in the northern parts of +the State and was perfectly able to bring down +a lynx or a cougar with a well-trained shot +between its eyes. She had never been able +to shoot a deer, for in spite of being brought up +like a boy, her heart failed her at the thought +of destroying anything that did not live by +preying on other animals.</p> + +<p>Jack gave a cry of pleasure. "See!" she +called back. "I haven't brought you to the +pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but I +have led you to a pool of silver." She had +brought Hotspur to a standstill in front of a +little silver lake, where the ravine extended +in a circle into the woods.</p> + +<p>For a moment the four riders were breathless +with admiration, then a big brown form +lumbered out of a clump of low bushes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +Hotspur reared and the indistinct mass rolled +by Jacqueline and made for a thicket.</p> + +<p>"It's a bear!" Jack shouted triumphantly. +"Who would have thought we could have had +such luck? Let's go after old Bruin and see +what becomes of him; he won't eat us up."</p> + +<p>Jack was only joking. She had no real idea +of following the bear; she wasn't even sure +what beast had trundled by them, but was +only in a wild humor and wondered how far +the others would follow her. She gave Hotspur +a little cut with her whip.</p> + +<p>"Come back, Miss Ralston," Frank called +sharply. He had ridden near enough to her +to reach out for her bridle.</p> + +<p>Jack grew more reckless. She sprang aside +but did not notice that the ground opened in +front of her in a narrow, broken crevice, until +Hotspur's fore feet went down the incline +and Jack pitched headlong over him, falling +with a crash in the brushwood beyond.</p> + +<p>In the medley of cries and confusion that +followed, Jacqueline did not know whether +she had been unconscious a second or an age +when she was aroused by a peculiar noise +which she was familiar with. It was a horse's +terrible cry of pain. She tried to sit up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +Jean and Frank Kent had dismounted hurriedly +and come over to her, while Harry +Pryor was trying to get Hotspur out of the +gully.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you will have to help me, +Frank, if Miss Ralston isn't hurt; I am afraid +Hotspur has broken his leg."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline gave a little cry and Jean covered +her cousin's eyes with her hands. There +was a pain in Jack's shoulder that was +wrenching and tearing at her, but it was +nothing to the feeling that Harry's words +created.</p> + +<p>"It can't be true," she sobbed. "I couldn't +have hurt my pony like that."</p> + +<p>But it was true, for Harry and Frank had +Hotspur on the level ground and the little +pony lay moaning and neighing pitifully. +There was only moonlight to show what +had happened, but Jack flung herself down +beside him and her tears fell in his shaggy +mane. "What can we do?" she begged. +"Doesn't any one know how to set a pony's +leg?"</p> + +<p>Harry shook his head. "You know it's +hopeless, Jack. There is but one thing to +do for Hotspur. I can ride back to the ranch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +for help, but it would only prolong his +pain."</p> + +<p>"You mean you must shoot him, don't you, +Harry?" Jack asked.</p> + +<p>Jean and Frank both turned away their +heads. Even in the moonlight, they could +see that Jack's face was ghastly white and her +lips almost blue. Only Jean knew how much +Jacqueline cared for her pony; he had been +her father's gift and for the past three years +Jack had hardly ever ridden any other horse, +unless Hotspur were too weary to carry her. +The thought that her own heedlessness and +obstinacy had brought the disaster only made +it the harder to bear.</p> + +<p>Harry nodded. "It's the only way, Jack, +you know."</p> + +<p>"All right," Jack answered briefly. "Be +quick."</p> + +<p>Jean's tears were blinding her but Jack +looked straight ahead.</p> + +<p>"Take the girls toward home with you, +Frank," Harry suggested. "I'll come afterwards."</p> + +<p>"I would rather wait until it is over," Jack +begged. "It is my fault that this has happened +and I won't go away like a coward,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +Hotspur would like to hear my voice until the +end." Jack felt her eyes burn and her throat +swell as now and then she patted the quivering +broncho.</p> + +<p>Jean led her cousin a short distance off, but +Jack's eyes never left her pony. She saw +Harry get out his pistol, load it and point +straight at Hotspur. A single shot rang out, +a long tremor ran through the horse's body, +a single sound like a sigh shook it and Jack's +best beloved friend and servant was gone +forever.</p> + +<p>"Take me back to the ranch, please," she +whispered hoarsely, all her courage gone. +Harry lifted her on his broncho and for a time +walked beside her. Then Frank changed +places and Harry rode. For a part of the +time, Jack cried silently. She had not mentioned +the pain in her arm, although it grew +stiffer each moment, but now and then she +winced.</p> + +<p>"You are hurt, aren't you, Miss Ralston?" +Frank questioned. "I was afraid you were +all along." But Jack shook her head; she +could think of nothing but Hotspur.</p> + +<p>Jean, however, was thinking of something +else. She remembered that it was after midnight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +and they were not yet back at the +Simpson ranch. What would Aunt Sallie and +Mr. Simpson say? And what would Laura +and Mrs. Post think of them? Jean shivered, +for now that the excitement of their trip with +its sad ending was over, she realised that she +and Jack ought never to have gone off riding +alone. Poor Jean's cheeks were hot with +blushes, in spite of her shivers. She and Jack +had not meant to do anything wrong, still +they ought to have known better. Was it +because they had no mother that neither of +them had thought?</p> + +<p>Just before they reached the ranch, Jack +turned a white face toward the other truants. +"Remember, please, that whatever blame we +receive for to-night's ride, the fault is all +mine; I proposed the ride, I would go farther +when Jean asked me to turn back. Don't +anybody say anything different, for you +know it is true."</p> + +<p>Frank Kent listened silently. He made no +reply, but it was hardly his idea that a man +should allow a girl to shoulder all the blame +for any mistake.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson and her husband rushed down +from the veranda, and were followed by a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +few of Jean's, Jack's and Harry's most intimate +friends. Dan Norton was waiting for +Frank, with an unpleasant grin on his face. +Laura and most of the company had gone to +bed, but Laura's mother surveyed the two +ranch girls with an expression they had never +seen in their free happy girlhood.</p> + +<p>"I shall never forgive you children as long +as I live," Aunt Sallie exclaimed angrily. +"Where in the world have you been? I knew +you had been left to your own devices, Jean +and Jack, but I did think you had more judgment +than to ride across the country at this +time of the night."</p> + +<p>"It was all my fault," Jack repeated +humbly. "We meant to go for just a short +ride and I didn't think you would care, but +we went farther and farther and Hotspur +broke his leg, so we had to come back with +just the three horses. Jean did want to turn +back sooner, Aunt Sallie," Jack whispered. +They were now inside the ranch house, under +the lights of the lamps. "Please don't scold +her. I know I did very wrong and I'm sorry; +won't you please let me explain better in the +morning?"</p> + +<p>And then Jack saw everything slipping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +away from her and the place grew horribly +dark. Big Mr. Simpson caught her in his +arms.</p> + +<p>"There, Sallie, don't scold any more to-night," +he ordered. "The child is worn out. +She did wrong, of course, but I expect she has +been punished enough by losing her pony. +It's the boys who are most to blame, I'll +warrant you. Of course they led the girls on +this wild goose chase."</p> + +<p>Harry and Frank Kent eagerly bowed their +heads. "I didn't think you would believe +any such nonsense as Miss Ralston has been +telling you," Frank avowed. "Of course +Mr. Pryor and I are responsible for the ride +and everything that occurred," he ended, with +more gallantry than truth.</p> + +<p>Aunt Sallie might have kept up her scolding +all night, for she was a good-hearted woman +with a very high temper, adored by her successful +husband and accustomed to having +her own way, but she saw that Jack was in +pain. There was something in the girl's white +face with the dark circles under her eyes +and the look of penitence and pain instead of +her usual almost haughty expression, that +touched her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come to bed, child," she said suddenly. +She caught Jack's arm. For the first time, +the girl gave a cry of pain at her own hurt. +"I think I have sprained my shoulder a little, +Aunt Sallie," she explained quietly. "I will +be all right in the morning."</p> + +<p>It was another hour before Mrs. Simpson +got Jack's shoulder properly bandaged and +had her stored away in bed. Fortunately, the +shoulder was only sprained, not broken. Yet +Jack could not sleep; it was not alone the pain +that kept her awake, but the realization that +she and Jean were no longer little girls and +could not do what they liked without a +thought. It was she who had led Jean into +mischief, yet try as she might, she could not +bear the whole burden of the wrongdoing, +and she wished to-night, that the ranch girls +had some one to look after them, some older +woman.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>BACK TO RAINBOW LODGE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"AUNT SALLIE, if you don't mind," said +Jacqueline next day, "I think we had +better go back to Rainbow Lodge."</div> + +<p>Jack's arm and shoulder were swathed in +white cotton and she had none of her usual +color, but she was out on the veranda and +insisted that she was not suffering in the least.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Jack," Mrs Simpson returned +kindly. "You are not angry at the scolding +I gave you last night, are you? You know +you deserved it, but of course you and Jean +were only thoughtless. We have forgotten +all about it to-day."</p> + +<p>Jack looked away. "Everybody hasn't +forgotten, Aunt Sallie, but I am not running +away because of that. I had a note from Jim +this morning and I think he needs me at the +ranch."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson flushed. "I know you are +referring to my niece and sister, Jack, but you +must remember that Mrs. Post and Laura +have lived always in the East. Laura has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +been very carefully brought up and they are not +accustomed to our Western ways of looking at +things. But I am sure that if you show them +you are sorry, they will forgive you in course +of time."</p> + +<p>Jack's face was no longer pale, she was +crimson with anger. If there was one thing +in the world which she had no intention of +doing, it was to show penitence for her conduct +to Laura Post or her mother. It seemed +to Jack that to treat a guest in the fashion +that Miss Post had treated her and Jean and +to be malicious and vain and small-minded, +was a good deal worse than to have committed +the thoughtless act that she and Jean had been +guilty of. But for the sake of Mrs. Simpson, +Jacqueline for the moment held her peace. +She hoped she would be able to hold it until +she got away from the Simpson ranch, but was +by no means sure.</p> + +<p>Olive and Frieda were out in the yard +walking quietly up and down. Frieda +was chattering like a magpie, but the +Indian girl was silent and rarely lifted her +eyes. Frieda waved to Jack and the two +girls started toward her and Mrs. Simpson, +but at this moment, Laura Post and Dan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +came out of the front door of the ranch +house.</p> + +<p>Jack saw Laura stop and say something +to the Indian girl. Olive turned quickly +and with her head drooping went directly +into the house.</p> + +<p>Sturdy little Frieda stood stock still and +then raised a pair of indignant blue eyes to +Laura. "I don't believe you!" she exclaimed +hotly, "I am going to ask Jack."</p> + +<p>Frieda rushed across the porch, her eyes +streaming with tears and flung herself into +Jacqueline's arms, Dan Norton and Laura +following her more slowly.</p> + +<p>Neither Olive nor Frieda had been told +anything of Mrs. Simpson's plan to keep +Olive at her ranch as a maid for her niece. +There had not been time to discuss it and Mrs. +Simpson had been too busy that morning to +talk to the Indian girl, but regarded the matter +as having been entirely settled with the ranch +girls.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, Jack," Frieda cried, her voice +trembling, "Laura Post just told Olive to go +into the house at once. She said that as long +as Olive was to be her maid, she did not wish +her to be out in the front with her guests.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +It wasn't true, was it? She is coming back +home with us, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>Jack made no reply. She only looked at +Laura Post with a pair of clear, wide open, +grey eyes that held more than a touch of +scorn in them.</p> + +<p>For once, Mrs. Simpson appeared slightly +displeased with her adored niece. "Laura," +she remarked disapprovingly, "I am sorry +you spoke in that way to the Indian girl. +Remember I asked her here as your guest. +I have not had time to explain to her that she +is to remain as your maid."</p> + +<p>"What on earth is all this pow-wow about?" +Jean demanded, appearing suddenly on the +scene, swinging a tennis racquet and followed +by Harry, who was usually her shadow. +"You look as tragic as the tale of Solomon +Grundy. 'Died on Saturday, buried on Sunday, +this was the end of Solomon Grundy,'" +Jean chanted in mournful tones. "Who are +you trying to get rid of, at present?"</p> + +<p>"No one, Jean," Mrs. Simpson replied. +"I was only speaking to Laura of the Indian +girl's remaining here as her maid. I will go +now and tell the girl about it myself."</p> + +<p>Jean caught hold of Aunt Sallie's ample<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +skirts. "Not so quickly, please, Aunt Sallie," +she urged, while she looked pleadingly at Jack. +"We are not sure that we can give up Olive +to you. You must not be angry, for you +know we did find her first and we have the first +right to her."</p> + +<p>"But I have got to have some one to wait +on me," Laura broke in pettishly. "I can't +button my own shoes and comb my hair, and +Auntie promised me this girl for my maid."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, dear," Mrs. Simpson returned +soothingly. "It is all settled, Jean and Jack +can't possibly be so foolish as to attempt to +keep this girl at Rainbow Lodge."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we can, Aunt Sallie," Jack +answered, sweetly but firmly. "I have been +wanting to talk to you alone, but I haven't +had a chance. I have thought things all over +and though we do not wish Olive for a servant +at Rainbow Lodge, we do want her for another +ranch girl!" You could have heard a pin +drop as Jacqueline went on. "You see we +have plenty of room in our home and I am +sure that four girls ought to be even happier +together than just three. If Olive will trust +herself with us, we shall try to do the best +that we can for her. I hope some day, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +her sake, we may find out who she really is, +but if not, why perhaps she may be willing to +be known as one of us."</p> + +<p>Jack looked so proud and at the same time +so generous and fine that Frank Kent, who +was standing near enough to overhear her, +wanted to shout with delight, but managed +to appear perfectly indifferent, though Laura +did think she heard him say "Ripping!" under +his breath.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson was crimson with vexation. +"Very well, Jack Ralston, do as you like," +she replied coldly. "Understand I wash my +hands of the whole affair. You will live to +regret this piece of Quixotic foolishness and +when this Indian girl gets you into trouble, +don't come to me."</p> + +<p>"We won't, Aunt Sallie," Jacqueline returned +gently. "And I hope you won't +think we are ungrateful to you. We saw lots +of real Indian girls at the village yesterday, +perhaps Miss Post will have one of them as +her maid. I'll ask Olive to recommend one."</p> + +<p>Jack walked quietly away from the group +on the veranda, holding Frieda by the hand +while Jean murmured more apologies to Aunt +Sallie, being as careful as possible not to look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +that lady in the face. Miss Bruce hardly +wished Mrs. Simpson to see how her brown +eyes were dancing with pleasure and pride, +but when Aunt Sallie had gone away, Jean +made no effort to conceal her satisfaction from +Laura Post and Dan Norton.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline marched straight in to find +Olive. She was not in her room. She was +not in the maids' room, nor in the big kitchen. +Hong Su, Mrs. Simpson's Chinese cook, explained +that the 'Lil Mlissie' had gone out in +the back yard.</p> + +<p>To one side and behind the Simpson ranch +house was a large kitchen garden, at only a +short distance from the house itself.</p> + +<p>Jack and Frieda could not find Olive at +once. There was nothing to hide her and she +could not have gone down to the stables +that were some distance away, yet she was +nowhere in sight.</p> + +<p>Half an acre of Indian corn was ripening +and yellowing in the sun. It rustled and its +long dried leaves crackled and swayed, and +they soon saw the Indian girl walking through +it with her head bent and tears falling fast. +Straightway Jacqueline thought of the Song +of Hiawatha and the Indian legend of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +corn. Poor little Olive was the Minnehaha, +after her laughter had been stilled! Frieda +ran straight to her friend and threw her arms +around her. "Oh, Olive, it isn't true," she +cried. "You are to come home with us to +Rainbow Lodge."</p> + +<p>But Olive shook her head. She could not +understand.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline took the girl's slender, brown +hand. "Olive," she asked gently, "do you +think you could be happy if you came to live +with us at the ranch? I am dreadfully cross +sometimes and you may not like me, but +Frieda and Jean are dears. We are only girls +like you and perhaps we may make mistakes, +but you won't mind, if we all do our best +together."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline was frightened at the expression +of the Indian girl's face. "You want me to +live with you like one of you?" she gasped. +"Oh, it can't, it can't be true."</p> + +<p>"But it can be true, Olilie," Jack answered +lightly, using the girl's pretty Indian name. +"And there is nothing so remarkable in our +wanting to have you. Suppose when mother +and father came out here to Wyoming from +the East, something had happened to them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +and they had left me somewhere for a stranger +to find me. Then the same thing might have +happened to me that has happened to you, +and I am sure you would have come along +and rescued me if you could."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't think I am an Indian +girl?" Olive questioned eagerly.</p> + +<p>Jack hesitated. "I don't know, Olive, I'm +sure," she returned. "Of course I was only +talking. Come, let's pack up our things, I +think we will go home to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"But if Laska and Josef come back for me?" +Olive pleaded, unable to believe in her wonderful +good fortune.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline's face sobered. She was thinking +of what Jim Colter would say when he +learned of their adoption of Olive. She knew +that Jim was troubled about something; had +the ranch girls any right to offer a home to any +one when their own future was so uncertain?</p> + +<p>But Jack's lips closed firmly. "Never mind, +Olive," she answered. "We won't worry +over things until they happen, when they do +we will face them the best we can."</p> + +<p>Rainbow Lodge had never looked more +dear and homelike than it did when the four +ranch girls arrived before its open front door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +Jim had sent one of the cowboys to drive them +home and Jack wondered why he had not +come himself. But she forgot to ask what had +kept him, when she saw Aunt Ellen's smiling +face and smelt the odor of ginger cookies +coming from the kitchen back of her.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it great to be at home, children?" +Jack exclaimed triumphantly. But Frieda +had flown to look after her chickens and Jean +was shaking hands with old Zack, who was +building the frames over her violet beds.</p> + +<p>"This bandage is cutting my arm off, Olive," +Jack went on, noticing Olive's wistful face as +Jack said the word "home." "Won't you +come in and fix it for me, please? I am going +to make you and Jean and Frieda wait on me +all I can, now we are away from Aunt Sallie's. +Of course I had to pretend my arm didn't hurt +over there, because I knew that that abominable +Laura Post and Dan Norton would say 'serves +her right,' every time I had a twinge of pain."</p> + +<p>Jack was talking nonsense to keep Olive +from thinking and as the two girls passed +under the arch of the door, Jack kissed her +lightly. "Good luck to Ranch Girl Number +Four. May you live long and prosper at Rainbow +Lodge," she whispered.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>BREAKING THE NEWS.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>JEAN and Jack came down the wide sunlit +hall with their two heads close together. +It was three days since their return from the +house party to their own home.</div> + +<p>Outside a half-opened door they stopped. +"Listen, Jack," Jean whispered, swallowing a +giggle. "They have been doing it every +single day."</p> + +<p>"If three fifths of a number is fifteen, what +is the number?" Frieda's voice read slowly +and solemnly. She paused fora long moment. +"The number is fifteen, isn't it Olive? The +sum said so."</p> + +<p>Jean would not have swallowed her giggle +this time, except that Jack pinched her on the +arm. "Do be quiet, Jean," she entreated. +"You will hurt their feelings."</p> + +<p>"No, Frieda," Olive explained patiently. +"You see one fifth of fifteen is five—"</p> + +<p>Jack knocked lightly on the door. "May +we interrupt the school a minute, please?" +she begged. "I have to go away in a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +while with Jim and I do want to see what is +going on. I think it is perfectly sweet of you, +Olive, to be trying to teach Frieda. It makes +Jean and me awfully ashamed."</p> + +<p>Olive laughed shyly: "Oh, I am not teaching," +she answered, "Frieda and I are just +studying together. There are such a lot of +things I ought to know so you won't be +ashamed of me, and I am trying to learn the +few that I can. Frieda likes to study too."</p> + +<p>Frieda was chewing the end of her stubby +pencil and making queer figures on a crumpled +piece of paper. Her little round face wore +such a virtuous and studious expression that +Jack laughed. Jean went over and pulling +Frieda's hair said: "Since when, Frieda +Ralston, have you developed into a student? +Far be it from you ever to get +your lessons for <i>me</i> without a fuss; something +must have come over the spirit of your +dreams."</p> + +<p>Frieda shook her head impatiently. She +was a very matter-of-fact person at all times. +"No such thing, Jean, dreams haven't anything +to do with it, it is only that Olive really +takes an interest herself and is awfully patient +and does not laugh—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Jean had put her fingers in her ears and +slipped out the bedroom door.</p> + +<p>Olive and Frieda were in their own room at +a small table drawn up near the window, and +looking out, Jack saw Jim Colter come up the +drive to the door on horseback, leading a horse +for her. Jean ran out in the yard and stood +for a moment talking to him.</p> + +<p>Jim had been away from Rainbow Ranch +since the day of the girls' return, and Jack +could see that he looked tired and serious, not +like his usual self.</p> + +<p>Jack kissed Frieda. "Perhaps Jim and +I won't be back until late, little sister, don't +worry. You know we are going to ride along +the side of Rainbow Creek to see about some +of the cattle and horses. Maybe the poor +ponies and calves haven't any water to drink +in some parts of the ranch. Don't study until +your pigtails turn grey."</p> + +<p>Frieda laughed, but the Indian girl looked +at Jacqueline closely. There was something +odd in Jack's manner, as though she were +trying to hide a secret that she was not sure +whether or not she wished to tell.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Olive," Jack called lightly, +"don't talk about our being ashamed of you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +child. If you knew all I do not know, you +would be quite the wisest person in the world. +Maybe Jean and I will have news for you to-night. +You have got to think it is good news, +for Jean and I hope it is. Anyhow, you two +good, industrious children have made me +make up my feeble mind. <i>Auf wiedersehen.</i> +That being about all the German I know, I +will translate it for you: 'Till we meet again.'"</p> + +<p>Jack stamped out on the porch to Jean and +Jim.</p> + +<p>"Morning, overseer," she said brightly.</p> + +<p>Jim lifted his Mexican hat. "Morning, +boss," he returned gravely. "How is the +wounded member?"</p> + +<p>Jack shrugged her sprained shoulder the +least little bit. "It's not first class yet, pard," +she stammered, mimicking one of the cowboys +on the ranch. "But I think I can get over +a good piece of ground by catching hold on +the reins with this here one good arm, if it's +the same to you. Is that the horse you mean +me to use now, Jim?" Jack asked, her voice +and manner changing.</p> + +<p>"Best I can do at present," Jim replied +soberly. "Tricks ain't up to Hotspur and you +may have to watch him a bit."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Jean," Jack whispered, just before she +mounted her horse. "We have made up our +minds to it, haven't we? Do you think we +will be able to endure it?"</p> + +<p>Jean cast her brown eyes up to heaven. +"Bear it?" she groaned. "Well I suppose +if we must, we must. Only tell Jim, maybe +he will say we must not, then think of the +relief!" Jean sighed, half in fun and half in +earnest, and watched Jim and Jack scamper +out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Wonder what old Jim and Jack are up to?" +she murmured. "If they only were going +to see how nearly dry Rainbow Creek is, they +would have taken one of the cowboys with +them. They are sure to have to pull a cow +or a calf out of a mud hole, before they are +through. Jim looks as sober as a judge. I +hope he hasn't heard anything about the—" +Jean broke off her musing, with a stamp of +her foot. "Of course not, I am a goose to +think of it," she told herself sternly.</p> + +<p>Jim Colter and Jack galloped on in silence, +Jim riding high in his saddle, standing nearly +erect, with his feet well out in the Western +cowboy fashion. He wore a pair of fringed +trousers, with a cartridge belt around his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +waist and two big Colt's revolvers were stuck +in the holsters on either side. A forty-foot +rope was coiled and hung at the pommel of +his saddle. Jim's Irish blue eyes were black +with anger this morning and his lips set in a +firm, hard line.</p> + +<p>The two riders had followed the bed of +Rainbow Creek for two miles through the +ranch before either one of them spoke.</p> + +<p>Jim wheeled and looked Jack straight in +the eyes. "You have a piece of news for me, +haven't you, Jack?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Jack nodded. "My news will keep. What +is it you have to tell me? I know it is important."</p> + +<p>"Can you bear it, girl?" Jim asked abruptly. +"It's pretty bad."</p> + +<p>Jack lifted her eyes without speaking. A +moment later they filled with tears and her +lips trembled. "It isn't true though, Jim, +is it?" she entreated. "He can't prove what +isn't true."</p> + +<p>Jim squared his shoulders. "That is just +the point, Miss Jack, and what we have got to +fight. Daniel Norton says he can prove that +he is the rightful owner of Rainbow Ranch. +He has papers to show it and we haven't a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +sign of anything. What we have got to +establish is that his claim is a lie and that +Rainbow Ranch don't belong to nobody on +this earth but John Ralston's daughters."</p> + +<p>"But how, Jim?" Jack asked. "You know +we have lost the title to the estate. We have +never been able to find a sign of a paper to +show that the ranch is our property. I have +looked through every one of father's papers a +thousand times. The deed is gone!"</p> + +<p>"Then it will have to return before January +first," Jim answered coolly, snapping his +fingers in the wind. "That is the date Mr. +Norton means to bring suit. Remember the +game we used to play with a bit of paper, when +you were a little girl, Jack, 'Fly away Peter, +Come back Paul'? Paul used to come back, +so don't you be frightened. Daniel Norton +hasn't gotten our ranch from us yet, and before +he does, he will see some pretty tall scrapping. +But I am afraid we have got to find our deed. +I was one of the witnesses when your father's +title to this ranch was drawn up. The other +witness was a fellow from the East, who just +happened to be passing through the country. +He stayed with us a few days and then goodness +only knows what became of him. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +may be living in New York or New Mexico +for all I know."</p> + +<p>"But you can advertise for him, can't you, +Jim?" Jack pleaded, her face looking white +and drawn. "Maybe if he would swear that +father bought our ranch and that Mr. Norton +couldn't have any right to it, it might do +some good. What was his name?"</p> + +<p>"Will Corbin," Jim answered shortly. +"But don't build your hopes on that idea. +I have been advertising for the fellow for +months. Not a word from him."</p> + +<p>"But the court records," Jack continued. +"Of course I don't know anything about law +or business, Jim, but I am sure that I have +heard that if a person buys or sells a piece of +property, some kind of record of it is kept in a +big book. Can't you get hold of that?" +Jack begged faintly. "If Mr. Norton brings +suit and makes us leave our ranch in January, +what can we do? Where will we go? It will +be so hard for Frieda and Jean." Jack +choked and could not go on for a moment.</p> + +<p>Jim was looking in every direction except at +his companion and cleared his throat once or +twice. Jack was gazing out over the sweep of +low country bordered by the distant hills. To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +one side was an open field, where a herd of wild +horses was munching the dried buffalo grass; +on the wooded slope of the ravine on the further +bank of the creek, cattle were leading +their calves to drink. It was all their own, +hers and Jean's and Frieda's; their beloved +Rainbow Ranch! Jack could recall no fairer +picture than the scene before her. Her eyes +had looked out only on the western lands since +she could remember. "Well, Jim, don't you +think it would be a good scheme for us to look +up this court record?" Jack inquired more +hopefully. "Mr. Norton couldn't say it was +false."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Jacqueline Ralston," Jim answered +more gruffly than he had ever spoken +to her before. "Do you think that you are +the only member of Rainbow Ranch who has +any business head? What have I been doing +these last few days but looking up that very +record of the sale of Rainbow Ranch to John +Ralston, Esq.? But I have wasted my time. +It wasn't any use. The court record is gone, +same as our own deed."</p> + +<p>"But that isn't possible, Jim," Jack argued +faintly, feeling the world begin to spin round +faster and faster, so she could hardly sit on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +her horse. "I thought nobody ever dared +touch anything that belonged to a court of +law."</p> + +<p>"Jack," Jim demanded severely, "will you +kindly remember that we are living in the +State of Wyoming and that we haven't been +a State but a powerful few years? When your +father first came to Wyoming, this country was +pretty well filled up with wild beasts, wild Indians +and some pretty wild white men. There +weren't but a few towns and they weren't +slow towns either. Things used to go on in +them that a girl don't need to know about. +One of the tricks the bad men used to play was +to change the county seat over night, just +for their own convenience. A band of men +would ride up to the courthouse, gather up +the court records, the law books and anything +else that came in handy, and carry them off to +a new town. Next morning when folks woke +up, they would find the county seat moved +and maybe a new judge and a new sheriff. +In one of these here little midnight excursions, +they must have carried off the court records +which showed your father bought our old +ranch fair and true. The book must have +been lost, for the record has disappeared,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +same as our own title to the place. You can +kind of see that old man Norton has got us in +a tight place, can't you, Jack?" Jim ended +gloomily.</p> + +<p>"We don't have to tell Jean and Frieda +yet, do we, Jim?" Jack pleaded wistfully. +"It won't do any good to make them miserable +so long as we can keep the news from them."</p> + +<p>Jim shook his head. "No sense in your +bearing the whole burden alone, Jack. You +ain't much older than Jean, you know. +Besides, maybe little Frieda will be the very +one of us to find our lost title to the old ranch. +Ain't things often revealed unto babes that +are hid from the rest of us?" Jim quoted +reverently, not remembering exactly the +great words of the text, but sure enough of its +meaning.</p> + +<p>"Wait here a minute for me, please, Jack," +Jim remarked suddenly, "there is one of our +calves stuck in the mud in the creek bottom. +Funny how the farther we get away from the +Lodge the slower our creek runs! It didn't +used to be that way. Ought to be five or six +feet of water along here and there's only about +one, and that silly calf has sunk to her knees +in mud and slime."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jim rode away from Jack, a few feet into the +creek, feeling his way cautiously for fear of +quicksands. The calf bleated and struggled, +but with a skillful swing of his lasso, Jim +caught the mired animal securely and dragged +her back safe to dry land. When he joined +Jack again, the worried expression had disappeared +entirely from his face.</p> + +<p>"Cheer up, pard," he resumed affectionately. +"You have got the best head on +your shoulders of any girl on this side the +great divide. We will straighten things out +some way and have one of the jolliest Christmases +that ever took place at Rainbow Lodge, +as a celebration. But didn't you and Jean +have something on your minds that you +meant to ask me about? Out with it! We +don't want to do any talking when we get +along toward the end of our creek. Sure as +fate, some way the water is being drained +from our creek and I have got to find out how +it's done."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my news doesn't amount to anything +now, Jim," Jacqueline announced. "After +what you have just told me, there wouldn't +be any point in trying to carry out our plan. +Indeed it is entirely out of the question."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell me the plan just the same, Jack," +Jim insisted, anxious to get Jack's mind off +the subject of their troubles.</p> + +<p>"You will be awfully surprised, Jim," Jack +declared, her face crimsoning, "but Jean and +I had just about decided that we ought to +have a chaperon to come to live with us at +Rainbow Lodge."</p> + +<p>Jim gave a long drawn out whistle. He +gazed meditatively up at the blue sky. "Good +thing it ain't night," he replied slowly, +"because if it had been, the stars would have +fallen at that remark of yours. You and +Jean think you ought to have a chaperon! +Well, my word!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, Jim," Jack remonstrated. +"You know we have talked over our having +a chaperon at the Lodge dozens of times since +father died. And even when I haven't +talked, I have been thinking. We did hate +the idea of one and I am afraid I do still. +But since our visit to Aunt Sallie," Jack's +beautiful straightforward face colored hotly, +"Jean and I believe we ought to have an +older woman to live with us. You see it is +this way, Jim; we don't want to do things that +even look wrong, just because we don't know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +any better; and then we don't want to grow up +into perfect dunces. Jean and I don't seem +to study at all with no one to teach us, and +Olive and Frieda are so anxious to learn +that they make us ashamed." Jack sighed. +"What's the use of telling you all this? Of +course we can't think of sending for a chaperon +now when we do not know how long we +will have a home to live in ourselves."</p> + +<p>Jack had been crying a little, but now she +threw her head back with a familiar gesture +and winked bravely. "Let's don't talk about +our troubles any more, Jim. Mr. Norton +hasn't taken possession of Rainbow Ranch +yet by any means. Who knows what may +happen in two months?"</p> + +<p>"Shall I go to Laramie to-morrow and +order out a chaperon, Miss Ralston?" Jim +queried calmly. "Suppose I put an ad in the +paper. 'Wanted: a long-suffering lady, who +knows everything, to chaperon and instruct +four young ladies who know nothing, but +have difficult and unmanageable tempers, +particularly the eldest.' Sounds an attractive +advertisement. Ought to get a lot of answers."</p> + +<p>Jack gazed inquiringly at their devoted +friend and counsellor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You mean, Jim, that you think we had +better go on and have a chaperon, just as we +planned, as though there was no danger of +our losing the ranch?"</p> + +<p>Jim nodded silently. He placed a cautious +finger on his lips. He was leaning forward in +his saddle, intent on something ahead.</p> + +<p>Jack did not notice. "We don't want to +have any one to live with us whom we know +nothing about," she went on, "so I expect +we had better send for mother's cousin, Ruth +Drew. She is a fussy New England old maid, +and terribly prim, but she wrote she would +come out to us, and if she can stand for us, +why,—what was that, Jim?" Jack finished +breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Shsh!" Jim whispered softly. "Keep +perfectly still until we know."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DIVIDE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>JIM COLTER and Jack had ridden to the +lower end of Rainbow Creek, where it +widened into a kind of natural reservoir. +Some yards beyond it, a line of upright rails +divided the Ralston ranch from that of the +Nortons. The earth dipped slightly on the +farther side and a thicket of low sage brush +covered the rise in the land beyond.</div> + +<p>Jim and Jack saw nothing moving in the +sage brush or beyond it and there was no one +in sight. Their impression must have been a +mistake, for the only living thing in view was +a flock of wild geese which flew over their +heads uttering their shrill clamor. Jim sat +erect, silent and watchful as an Indian, on the +back of his equally motionless pony, his hand +shading his eyes.</p> + +<p>Jack waited on her horse gazing at the quiet +waters of Rainbow Creek. Suddenly there +came a low rumble inside the earth, like a note +of warning, and then the land began to rise in +sandy billows as though wave on wave were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +seeking some distant shore. The two horses +with their silent riders shook as with the ague; +the face of Rainbow Lake shivered, then her +waters lashed the shores as though they had +been parted asunder, and a moment later +receded and began to disappear. It was as if +old Father Neptune had deserted his home at +the bottom of the sea to play his mighty +games in the shallow waters of Rainbow +Creek. It seemed as though he had blown a +great blast through his sacred horn and caused +the water to spurt upward, then had drawn it +slowly back into his horn again.</p> + +<p>The noise and the movement died away.</p> + +<p>"Was it an earthquake, Jim?" Jacqueline +managed to murmur, as soon as she could get +her breath. She had slipped quietly off her +pony and was patting it softly, for the broncho +was terribly frightened at the strangeness of +his experience.</p> + +<p>Jim nodded solemnly. "A human earthquake, +I guess. Don't be alarmed, it won't +occur again, but get to cover quickly."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline Ralston knew as well as though +she had been a pioneer woman trained to warfare +with the Indians in the early days in the +West, what Jim's mysterious words, "get to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +cover," meant. She and Jim used to play, +long years before, that they were travelers +across the plains, being hunted down by bands +of roving Indians. This was when Jack was +a small, bronze-haired tomboy, riding bare-back +over the prairies, swimming with her +father in the clear, cold mountain streams, +afraid of nothing and of no one, the pride of +every cowboy on Rainbow Ranch. Later +she had learned the value of hiding in ambush +in stalking wild game. But, even if Jack had +not understood the importance of Jim's advice, +she had been trained to obey instantly +the word of a superior officer in the moment +of action.</p> + +<p>It was not an easy matter to seek shelter +with a broncho fourteen and a half hands +high in the particular part of the ranch where +Jack and Jim happened to be at this moment. +There were no trees, no underbush of any kind. +The trees that are usually found near the beds +of streams in the western country, were on +the far side of Rainbow Creek. There was +no time to wade across. Jack dropped her +reins, hoping her pony would wander quietly +away. She bent forward and ran as swiftly +and silently as possible toward the straggling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +rail fence. Then she lay down in the short +brown grass, as motionless as a frightened +partridge who tries to make the hunter believe +he is a part of the still landscape. Jim +Colter crawled after Jack, bringing with him +his long rope.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later a man's figure rose up +from the screen of sage bushes on the Norton +ranch and the sun glinted on a bright red +head. The boy swung his hat in the air +once, twice, three times. Then he repeated +the signal.</p> + +<p>Jim crept through the fence like an eel. +Without making the least sound that could +be heard by the fellow, whose back was turned +to him, Jim got within thirty feet of his enemy.</p> + +<p>Jack wondered what on the face of the earth +Jim intended to do. Then her eyes widened +with surprise and with laughter. There was a +swish, a streak through the air, as Jim's lariat +uncoiled. Hearing the noise the boy turned +and the rope caught him around the waist, +pinning his arms securely to his side. He was +lassoed as safely as any wild pony.</p> + +<p>Jim then calmly started to walk back toward +the rail fence that divided the two +ranches. He seemed blissfully indifferent to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +the fact that he dragged an angry and sputtering +young man at the end of his rope. Dan +Norton, Jr., was a heavy, stocky fellow, with +a good deal of brute strength, but Jim Colter +was long and lean, with muscles of steel. +Besides, as Dan threw his resisting strength +against that of his opponent, the rope tightened +about him and cut more deeply into his +flesh. He kicked viciously like an unruly +colt, but Jim did not condescend to look behind +him; his victim was kicking nothing but +air, as Jim was ten yards in front.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing? Where are you +going?" Dan shouted, almost choking with rage.</p> + +<p>Jack rose up from behind the shield of the +fence. The sight of Jim and his prize was +too beautiful, and Jack felt that she was being +repaid for many of the cruel tricks that Dan +and his father had played on her since she +was a little girl. She recalled the time that +Dan had nearly put out her eyes, when she +was only four years old. She had been playing +with him and when she lifted her face to +his in answer to some question, he had thrown +a great box of sand straight into her wide-open +eyes. It was curious how well Jack +remembered the deed at this moment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me go, I'll have you in jail for this. +What do you mean by trespassing on my +land?" Dan yelled.</p> + +<p>Jim laughed and drew Dan closer to him. +"Don't get so upset, sonnie, I am not going +to trespass on your land," he urged quietly. +"This rope is just a little scheme of mine to +make you cross the great divide between your +ranch and ours, while we talk a few things +over." Jim hauled Dan through an opening +in the fence.</p> + +<p>Jack dared not look straight at them. She +did feel it would be too hateful of her to laugh +out loud, yet how could she help it? Dan was +so desperately angry that it made him fume +and fuss and jump about like an excited +rooster, and his red head did suggest a rooster's +comb.</p> + +<p>"Look out, Jim," Jack sang out. "Here +come the men Dan was signaling."</p> + +<p>Across one of the Norton fields, with their +gaze centered on the clump of sage where they +expected to find their young master, marched +three cowboys from the Norton ranch.</p> + +<p>"Come here," Dan shouted, trying in vain +to loosen one of his hands to wave to his men.</p> + +<p>Jim slipped one of his Colts out of its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +holster and passed it over to Jack. "Just +keep this for me, will you, Miss Ralston?" +he asked politely. "There won't be any use +for it, but there is no harm in having it +handy."</p> + +<p>Jim spoke to the puzzled ranchmen and +greeted them calmly. "Come as far as you +like on your own side of the fence," he said, +"but kindly stop right there. I have a few +questions I would like to ask Mr. Daniel +Norton, Jr., and I wouldn't object to some +witnesses. Needn't be afraid, the earthquake +is all over. Mr. Norton and I are going +to talk quite neighborly and friendly like, as +soon as he cools off a bit."</p> + +<p>Jim Colter spoke so quietly that the men +who watched him knew he meant business. +You see Jim's reputation was that he was one +of the most dangerous men in the country +when he was aroused, and there was no doubt +of his present feeling.</p> + +<p>The three men nodded respectfully. They +did not wish to have a fight, for if they attacked +Jim and tried to get Dan Norton away from +him, he would undoubtedly use his pistol, +and then there was Jacqueline.</p> + +<p>The cowboys jerked their heads at Jack in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +a greeting intended to be exceedingly polite. +Jack understood and returned the men's bows +with her best smile. She did not desire to let +Jim make the affair with Dan too serious if +she could help it, but she had rarely seen their +overseer so deeply angry in her life.</p> + +<p>An Eastern girl and most Western ones +would have been horrified at Jacqueline Ralston's +present position. She was standing, a +quiet and attentive listener, in a group of five +uncultured men. One of the cowboys was +Josef, the Indian Laska's son, the other a +Mexican, and but one of the three an American. +They were all angry and lawless and only one +of the five her friend, yet Jacqueline did not +think of her position as unusual. She was +far too much interested in what was about to +take place to think of herself at all and knew +that not one of the cowboys would touch her +and she was not in the least in fear of Dan. +Jacqueline Ralston was not like a girl with a +father and mother to care for her. She had +been brought up with the ideas of a pioneer +woman and was trying to run a ranch and +to make a living for herself, her cousin and +sister, and if there was any danger that threatened +their property or them, she must know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +what it was and must do what she could to +prevent it. Jack was leaning on a rail of the +fence. Her hat had fallen on the ground and +her face was white, yet it held a look of quiet +power and strength remarkable in a girl so +young.</p> + +<p>Jim was aggravatingly slow. He was facing +Dan Norton while the cowboys hung over +the pickets. Dan had ceased to struggle, but +still refused to look either at Jim or Jack.</p> + +<p>"Our little talk ain't going to take but a +few minutes, sonnie, if you will answer my +questions straight from the shoulder," Jim +drawled. "Did any of you feel a bit of a shock, +say like an earthquake, a few minutes back? +It 'peared like the ground near Rainbow Creek +had gotten tired of not being heard from for +some time past and had suddenly swelled up +and bust."</p> + +<p>Jim pointed toward the lake only a few +yards from them. Jack was startled to see +how much lower the water was. Could it +have fallen an inch in such a little while?</p> + +<p>Dan shook his head scornfully. "Earthquake! +No, you are off your base," he sputtered. +"That is, at least I did feel a slight +motion, but it didn't amount to much. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +don't see how you can hold me responsible +for an earthquake. Say fellers, Jim Colter +is pretty far gone isn't he, if he thinks I am +powerful enough to move the earth." Dan +grinned, delighted with his own wit, but his +cowboys only continued to stare at him +solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Glad you felt a little motion, though you +was pretty safe out of the way," Jim went on +in the same quiet fashion. "Seems like I could +shut my eyes and tell you just how that earthquake +happened. You ought to have seen +the waters of Rainbow Creek dash up in the +air and then begin to slide plum out of sight. +It was most like a miracle."</p> + +<p>Dan faced Jim impudently. "Well, go +on, tell us how your miracle happened?" he +invited scornfully.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline was puzzled. She had no idea +how Jim would be able to explain the peculiar +phenomenon which they had just seen.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a charge of dynamite caused our little +earthquake," Jim explained briefly.</p> + +<p>"You see, Mr. Norton, you have been trying +to drain the water from our creek to your +ranch for some time back, but digging a lower +channel was pretty slow work. That little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +bunch of dynamite just between your land +and our lake has made a pretty nice passage +for our water to flow through. I suppose +you made your entrance underground somewhere +near that clump of sage brush, so it +would be hard for us to discover."</p> + +<p>Dan shrugged his heavy shoulders, "What +rotten nonsense," he returned sullenly.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline's eyes were fairly starting with +surprise and she opened her lips to ask a +question but closed them quickly. She +couldn't expect to comprehend Jim's accusation. +What girl ever has understood anything +about engineering?</p> + +<p>Jim laughed, straightened up and glanced +toward the three cowboys, who were grouped +picturesquely on the opposite side of the +divide. "Oh, you don't have to take my +word for it," he remarked casually, "I will +have one of the State engineers over to prove +it to you. You see if there is one thing we +are strict about in Wyoming, it is our water +rights.</p> + +<p>"You and your father shall pay us a tidy +sum of money in damages for this work." +Jim slowly let go the tight knot which had +held Dan Norton. "Now get along home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +when you like, young man," he concluded. +"I am through with you for to-day."</p> + +<p>Dan flung the lasso to the ground and +glared angrily at Jim and then at Jack. But +his eyes fell before Jacqueline Ralston's. Jack +was looking at him steadily with the scornful, +slightly haughty expression he so hated.</p> + +<p>Dan smiled. His light blue eyes were almost +green with temper and narrowed into +two fine lines. "Oh, it don't matter about +your old creek, at present," he jeered. "You +can keep the water on Rainbow Ranch for +another few months, when father and I take +possession of the ranch, we can drain the +water over here if we like. So long!" and he +glanced contemptuously at Jack, as he marched +by her.</p> + +<p>Jack had her riding whip in her left hand. +For a second she longed to strike at Dan +Norton with it. How dared he speak in that +calm and self-assured fashion of some day +taking possession of their own beloved Rainbow +Ranch? Jack's heart was like lead, +but not a muscle of her lovely face moved, +her eyelashes did not even tremble.</p> + +<p>Jim watched Dan sneak across the divide +and he and Jack waited until the four men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +started on foot across the plain. Then Jim +smiled a slow smile which meant many things. +"Don't you worry quite so much about our +losing our ranch, Jacqueline Ralston," Jim +announced. "If old Daniel Norton had felt +so sure he was going to succeed in getting our +place away from us, he would never have tried +to steal our water at this stage of the game."</p> + +<p>The two horses were grazing near by and +Jim lifted Jack into her saddle. They turned +their faces toward Rainbow Lodge.</p> + +<p>Once or twice, Jim rubbed his chin. +"Pretty good day's work for us, boss?" he +asked finally.</p> + +<p>Jack's eyes danced and a deep rose color +glowed in her cheeks. She did not look in the +least like the girl who had received in tears +the news of the possible loss of her home.</p> + +<p>Jack laughed softly, under her breath. +"It sure was a good day's work, overseer, +and we'll fight till the hat drops," she answered, +in the tone of another cowboy. Then Jack +flicked her pony with her whip. "Do let's +hurry, Jim," she called gaily. "I never saw +anything in my life so delicious as the picture +you made lassoing Dan. I am just dying to +get home to tell the other girls."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE WET BLANKET.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"JACK, how are we ever going to quit +using slang?" Jean groaned.</div> + +<p>"Oh, we do worse things, Jean Bruce," +Jack answered unfeelingly. "Little we know +how many crimes we do commit! Just wait +until a straight-laced old maid gets hold of +us! And what will Cousin Ruth say about +Jim's grammar? You know she is a B.A. +from some woman's college. Do you know +Jean, I often wonder if Jim talks in the careless +way he does simply because he has lived +so long out here with the cowboys. He must +have had some education when he was +young, he seems to have read a great many +books."</p> + +<p>"Jim Colter is a clam," Jean remarked +impatiently, forgetting her resolution to +speak only "English, pure and undefiled." +"He would rather die than to let us learn +anything of his past. I do declare, Jack, +that if he were anybody in the world except +Jim, I should think he had something in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +life he wished to conceal. I wonder if he +ever had a tragic love affair?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jean, you are a romantic goose," +Jack exclaimed. "What was it you had to +show me?"</p> + +<p>Jean and Jack were giving a thorough +cleaning to the living-room; Aunt Ellen had +shaken the rugs and polished the pine floor, +but the two girls were dusting vigorously +in every crack and corner and rubbing the +brass candlesticks with an unaccustomed +ardor.</p> + +<p>Through the entire Lodge there rioted a +sense of preparation, as before the approach +of some great event.</p> + +<p>Jean flung down her dust cloth, seized Jack +by the hand and marched her over to the +corner lined with their book shelves.</p> + +<p>Jack discovered an entirely unknown row +of books. "Why, Jean Bruce!" Jack exclaimed +in amazement. "Where did you ever +find these old things and what do we want +with them anyhow?"</p> + +<p>Jack was staring at Congressional reports, a +few ancient law books and a treatise on medicine. +But there also were eight volumes of +Gibbon's "Rome," Greene's "History of The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +English People," and several other valuable +old histories, arranged in a conspicuous place +on the book shelves. Jean's most cherished +novels had been stuck out of sight.</p> + +<p>Jean smiled a superior smile. "I found the +books upstairs in Uncle's trunk, of course, and +I brought them down here to impress our new +chaperon or governess, which ever you choose +to call her. I was determined she should not +think we were perfect dunces when she arrived +at Rainbow Lodge."</p> + +<p>Jack appeared to reflect. "I don't see how +it will do much good," she argued, half +laughing. "Cousin Ruth will soon find out +that we don't know anything in the books +worth mentioning."</p> + +<p>But Jean was not in the least discouraged. +"First impressions are always the most important, +Jacqueline Ralston," she announced +calmly. "My advice to this family is to let +Cousin Ruth get her shocks from our wild +behavior by degrees so that she will have time +to rally in between."</p> + +<p>"Do you think she is going to find us so +very dreadful?" Jack inquired quite seriously, +without the trace of a smile. She was climbing +up on a ladder to try to straighten a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +beautiful golden lynx skin, which was slipping +off the wall.</p> + +<p>"Worse than wild Indians," Jean replied, +unmoved, "just you mark my words, Miss +Ralston. For instance, Miss Drew is going +to announce that it is a perfect shame for any +one to shoot a poor dear wildcat. Uncle +ought to have reasoned with that cat when +it jumped at him. She is going to hate us and +all our ways forever and want to go back to +her blessed New England in a week."</p> + +<p>Jack sighed, "you are a Job's comforter, +Jean. But you don't have to worry, I know +Cousin Ruth will hold me responsible for our +wicked ways. You see I wrote her that we +did not want her to come out to us when she +first said she would. Then I had to eat +humble pie and say we did. But even if she +does not like you or me, Jean, she can't help +caring for Olive and Frieda. Olive is the +prettiest, shyest girl in the world."</p> + +<p>Jean nodded. "Jack," she asked more sympathetically, +"is Cousin Ruth horribly old?"</p> + +<p>"She is twenty-eight and a dreadful old +maid," Jack confessed sadly. "Jean, you +have simply got to ride over to the station +with Jim to meet her this afternoon."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jean shook her head and dropped languidly +into a large reclining chair. "I am not at all +well, Jack," she answered, "I forgot to tell +you this morning, but I feel a bad cold coming +on. If I should take a long ride I am sure +I should be quite ill."</p> + +<p>Jack stared at her cousin searchingly. +"You don't show the least sign of a cold, +Jean," she argued.</p> + +<p>"That is because appearances are deceiving, +sweet coz," Jean murmured. "How is our +dear lady cousin going to get over to the +ranch?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jim is going to lead a horse over for +her to ride back on," Jack announced quite +unconscious of breakers ahead. "You see +the train gets in so late that we couldn't get +home until after dark, if we drove over, and I +thought it would be kind of nice to have +Cousin Ruth arrive at Rainbow Lodge just +at twilight. You didn't think to look among +father's books for a stray paper, did you, +Jean?" Jack asked, trying to appear indifferent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did, Jack," Jean returned quickly. +"There wasn't anything. Let's don't talk +about it. I promise to have everything at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +the Lodge to-night in ship-shape order, when +you arrive. We have cleaned up the whole +house and we will put on our best clothes and +stand out on the veranda to meet you; we +might even sing, 'Hail, the conquering hero +comes,' if you think it would be appreciated."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose Jim could meet Cousin +Ruth without me?" Jack queried, as a forlorn +hope.</p> + +<p>Jean shook her head decidedly. "Most +certainly not, Jack; never in the world! The +lady would think Jim was trying to kidnap +her and he would be scared to death." +Jean kissed Jack apologetically. "I know I +am horrid, Jack, to put all the hard things +off on you because you are a little bit the +oldest, but really, if I had to meet Cousin Ruth +at the station, I'd shiver and shake until I fell +off my horse. I will do the next hard thing +that has to be done on this place, I will honestly, +cross my heart and body," Jean argued +penitently.</p> + +<p>Three weeks had passed since Jim Colter's +and Jack's eventful ride across the ranch. +It was late October, but unusually mild and +warm. Cousin Ruth had been written to on +the very evening of the decision, so that there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +could be no chance for a change of purpose +on the part of the ranch girls, for they felt +that they were in for it and were determined +to do their best.</p> + +<p>Miss Ruth Drew was entirely alone in the +world except for one good-for-nothing brother +and had just enough money to eke out a bare +existence in a dull little Vermont town. She +wanted an object in life and believed that the +ranch girls needed her. So soon as Jack's letter +arrived, she had telegraphed that she would +come to them at once. Since then, the days +at Rainbow Lodge had slipped by like magic +until the fated day arrived. Jim Colter and +Jack, with many inward misgivings, mounted +their ponies and leading an extra one for Miss +Drew, rode to the station.</p> + +<p>The express from the East would be due in +an hour.</p> + +<p>Jack and Jim paced restlessly up and down +the station platform, with their arms locked. +Jim looking even more wretched and unhappy +than Jack. He wondered how in the world he +was to treat the old lady cousin when she +came out to them, and whether she would shut +off from caring for his adored ranch girls.</p> + +<p>Jim had not the remotest idea of Miss Ruth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +Drew's age. The name had an elderly sound +to it and Jack had described her as an old +maid; consequently Jim's mental picture +showed a small, grey-haired woman with corkscrew +curls, somewhere in the neighborhood +of fifty, with thin lips and a penetrating eye. +She would probably reduce him to powder +with a single glance, but he meant to be as +polite to her as he humanly could and to +speak to her only when it was absolutely +necessary.</p> + +<p>"Jim," Jack suggested finally, "you have +sighed like a human bellows three times in +the past five minutes. If you meet Cousin +Ruth with that expression, she'll think we +are sorry she has come. Please go over into +the town and buy yourself some tobacco or +something to cheer you. I'll get on Tricks +and ride up and down near the track for a +while, and then we will both be in a better +humor when the train finally does get in."</p> + +<p>Miss Ruth Drew sighed. She was sitting +in the Pullman car with her eyes closed and +an expression of supreme fatigue on her +sallow but not unattractive face.</p> + +<p>It seemed to her that she had been traveling +ever since she could remember. Were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +there people in the world idiotic enough to +think there was beauty in the western prairies? +For days she had looked out on bare stretches +of endless brown plains rising and falling in +one monotonous chain. The sand was in her +eyes, in her ears, in her mouth; worst of all, it +had piled up in a great mass of homesickness +on her heart.</p> + +<p>How could she have turned her back on +dear New England villages, with their sleepy, +green and white homesteads and trim gardens, +for this vast desert? "Of course, she was +doing her duty in coming to look after four +motherless girls," Ruth remembered, with a +pang, but her duty at the present moment +did not appear cheerful.</p> + +<p>When the conductor announced that the +next station was hers, Ruth sat up and +arranged her hat and veil neatly. She adjusted +her glasses on her thin nose and put +back the single lock of hair that had strayed +from its place. Her heart began to flutter +a little faster. Was she actually arriving in the +neighborhood of Rainbow Ranch? It didn't +seem possible!</p> + +<p>If you can imagine a very prim, grey mouse +kind of girl, who looked a good deal older than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +she was, with ash brown hair and eyes and a +neat tailor-made suit to match, you will get +a very good impression of Miss Ruth Drew. +Her figure was very good and her mouth +might have been pretty, except that it looked +as though she disapproved of a great many +things, and that is never becoming. But she +was tired and homesick and it was not a fair +time to judge her.</p> + +<p>It would be another fifteen minutes before +she would get into Wolfville, and Ruth closed +her eyes again. There was nothing to see out +of her window that was in the least interesting +and she preferred to think about the ranch +girls. She wondered if they would be very +hard to get on with, if they were very wild and +reckless. It made her shudder: the idea of +her cousin's children growing up with only +a common cowboy for their friend and +adviser.</p> + +<p>There was a little stir in the car, the engine +had slowed down. Ruth opened her eyes; +what had made her traveling companions' +faces brighten with interest? Three or four +of them rushed across the aisle and pressed +their noses up against the window panes on +her side of the coach. One man threw up the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +car window, leaned out and shouted: "Hurrah!" +A woman waved her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Ruth's curiosity was aroused and she gazed +languidly out her window. Flying along the +road that followed the line of the track, was +a Western pony. The horse was running like +a streak, his nostrils quivering with excitement, +his feet pounding along the hard sand.</p> + +<p>"Beat it! beat it!" cried the excited +stranger. "Did anybody ever see such riding +before?" The man addressed the entire car.</p> + +<p>Ruth could see that there was someone on +the horse, running a race with the express +train. The rider was in brown and Ruth +could not observe very distinctly. She supposed +that it was an Indian boy.</p> + +<p>"That girl is a wonder!" the man exclaimed, +who had been traveling next the prim young +woman from the East for four days without +daring to look straight at her. He leaned +over his seat and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Girl!" Miss Drew repeated in surprise. +"Was the figure on horseback a girl?" Ruth +was quite willing to admit that she had never +seen such horsemanship in her life. The girl +was perfectly graceful and at times she leaned +over to urge her pony on, or bent sideways as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +though she swayed with the motion of the +wind. She seemed to rest on her horse so +lightly that she added no burden to him +but was like the spirit of motion carrying +him on.</p> + +<p>The engine ahead whistled three times. +The train was moving slowly, still it was +remarkable how the rider kept up with the +passenger coach.</p> + +<p>Just as the car rolled into the station, the +girl on horseback flashed a smile at the people +watching her from the car windows, and +Ruth had a brief glimpse of a shaft of sunlight +caught in a mass of bright, bronze hair and a +pair of radiant cheeks and eyes. Then she +seized her suit case and umbrella, slipped into +her overshoes and hurried out of the train. +She had read that it rarely rained in Wyoming, +except in the spring, but she wished to run no +risk of taking cold.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>AN UNFORTUNATE ARRIVAL.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>THERE was no one on the platform when +Ruth dismounted, but a tall man, who +was not looking for her. He was oddly handsome +in spite of his queer Western clothes, +and Ruth wished for an instant that he might be +Mr. Colter. Evidently he was not. He stared +at her curiously for a few seconds, then searched +anxiously along every other exit of the train.</div> + +<p>Cousin Ruth could discover no one else. +The madcap girl, who had run her wild race +with the train, was a little distance off. She +was holding three ponies by their bridles, +and as one of them was dancing with nervousness +on account of the noise of the engine, the +girl had her hands full.</p> + +<p>Ruth Drew's heart sank to ten degrees +below zero. Had she traveled across the +continent to a wild Western town to find no +one to meet her? The ranch girls could not +be so rude; and Ruth determined to ask the +good-looking man with the worried expression, +what she ought to do.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/i-178.jpg" width="312" height="500" alt=""Can I Do Anything For You, Ma'am?"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Can I Do Anything For You, Ma'am?"</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jim was gazing sadly after the departing +coaches. You see he was looking for a white-haired +woman of about fifty, and supposed +that the old lady hadn't known enough to +get off the train at the right station, and had +gone on to the next stop. How in the world +would he be able to connect with her?</p> + +<p>Jim saw the young woman on the platform, +but she wasn't as large and didn't seem to +him to be much older than Jack. He supposed +she had come to visit some of their ranch +neighbors, yet she looked unhappy, as though +she wanted to cry. Jim's heart was touched.</p> + +<p>He took off his broad Mexican hat, and +Ruth thought with a sudden gasp that she +had never seen such blue eyes and such black +hair before.</p> + +<p>"Can I do anything for you, ma'am?" Jim +inquired politely. "It 'pears like your folks +haven't come to meet you."</p> + +<p>Ruth shook her head. She was too full of +tears to trust herself to speak for a moment. +"I am afraid not," she answered finally. +"Will you be good enough to tell me how I +can get over to the Rainbow Ranch? I have +come to live with the Ralston girls. I am +their cousin—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not Ruth?" Jim exclaimed, forgetting his +shyness in his surprise. "You can't be +Cousin Ruth, because the girls told me she was +an old maid." Jim stopped abruptly, conscious +that he had put his foot in it with his +first remark to their new visitor.</p> + +<p>Cousin Ruth drew herself up a little stiffly. +She did not like to be called "an old maid," perhaps +because she knew she often acted and +looked like one, but she was too tired to care +much about anything at present. She only +longed with all her heart to be driven home +to Rainbow Lodge.</p> + +<p>"I am Cousin Ruth just the same," she +answered feebly, trying to smile.</p> + +<p>Jim grabbed her suit case, carried her +umbrella like a shot gun, and marched her +toward the girl who was holding the three +horses, the same girl who had shocked and +entertained her from the car window.</p> + +<p>Jacqueline slid off her pony and passed the +three bridles to Jim. She did not know +whether she ought to kiss her cousin or only +to shake hands with her, for there was something +in Ruth's expression that froze Jack's +first affectionate intention. Ruth was truly +horrified at Jack's behavior. She didn't see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +how a girl could be so reckless of appearances.</p> + +<p>Jack held out a slim, cool hand. "I am +awfully glad to see you, Cousin Ruth. It was +very good of you to come out to us. I hope +you are not tired," Jack remarked, as though +she had learned her greeting out of an etiquette +book. She was as stiff as a wooden Indian, +because she felt so abominably shy.</p> + +<p>Ruth's feelings were hurt. She did not +think of her own manners, merely of Jack's. +"Yes, I am tired," she replied coldly. "Is +the carriage waiting for us in the town?"</p> + +<p>Jack's face reddened. Jim gave a hasty +glance of embarrassment toward the two +women. There was an awkward silence.</p> + +<p>Jack found her voice first. "We didn't +bring a wagon over for you, Cousin Ruth. +We don't own a carriage," Jack explained. +"It is so late that we didn't think we would +get to the ranch before night, if we drove. +We brought a horse for you to ride."</p> + +<p>Ruth Drew sank limply on the ground. +"A horse to ride!" she exclaimed faintly. "I +have never been on a horse in my life. How +far is it to the ranch?"</p> + +<p>"Ten miles," Jack acknowledged shame-facedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +Ten miles did sound like a great +distance to a stranger, although the ranch +girls had always thought that they lived very +close to town; but the idea of a full-grown, +able-bodied woman not knowing how to ride +horseback had never entered Jacqueline +Ralston's head. What on the face of the +green earth were they to do? "You had +better go over into the town and see if you can +get a carriage, Jim," Jack advised. "I never +thought of Cousin Ruth's not liking to ride. +I can lead the two horses home, if you will +drive her over."</p> + +<p>Jack was really miserably embarrassed at +her own failure as a hostess. She knew that +they were making a dreadful first impression +on Cousin Ruth, and Jean had warned her that +first impressions were most important. But +Ruth Drew thought she caught something +in Jack's tone that sounded supercilious. +There was nothing so extraordinary in Ruth's +being ignorant of horses, she had never been +rich enough to own one; yet it was quite +impossible for the Eastern girl and the Western +one to understand each other's points of view.</p> + +<p>Jim Colter came back utterly crestfallen; +there was no carriage to be had in the town.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>With the courage of despair, Ruth let herself +be swung up on the homely broncho. +She was horribly frightened, although Jack +assured her that she was riding the gentlest +pony on the ranch, one that belonged to little +Frieda. It made no difference, Ruth slipped +and slid. She clutched the pony's mane in her +hands and let Jim lead her, yet every time the +pony went out of a walk, Ruth wanted to +shriek with fear. She had traveled hundreds +and hundreds of miles from Vermont to +Wyoming, but the distance was as nothing to +her ten-mile horseback ride to Rainbow Lodge.</p> + +<p>Every muscle in Ruth's body ached; she +had a horrid stitch in her side and swayed +uncertainly in the saddle. Each moment she +expected to fall off.</p> + +<p>The ride home seemed almost as long to +Jack and Jim as it did to their guest. They +were so ashamed of themselves, and Jack's +cheeks were hot with blushes every time she +looked at her new cousin.</p> + +<p>After about an hour of slow traveling, +Jack caught sight of Ruth. Her face was +grey with pain and fatigue.</p> + +<p>"Stop, Jim," Jack called sharply. "Cousin +Ruth is going to faint."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ruth had a dim recollection of being lifted +off her horse and for the rest of her journey +she felt herself being held up by a strong arm. +Now and then a man's voice spoke to her, as +if she were a little girl and he were trying to +comfort her. He was a haven of refuge and +Ruth did not think or care who or what he +was, and finally he brought her safely to +Rainbow Lodge.</p> + +<p>Jack thought she had never seen her home +so lovely. There was a golden glow behind +the house and the wind stirred through the +quivering yellow leaves of the cottonwood +trees. Rainbow <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'creek'">Creek</ins> lay on one side of them +and on the other the broad sweep of the plains. +Jack gazed wistfully at Ruth who was riding +in front of Jim; surely their new cousin would +show some interest in her new home!</p> + +<p>Jean, Frieda and Olive ran out in the yard +to meet the cavalcade. Jack waved her hand, +but Cousin Ruth did not open her eyes.</p> + +<p>"We are about home, now, Miss Drew," +Jim found courage to say.</p> + +<p>"Heaven be praised!" Ruth sighed. She +could barely speak.</p> + +<p>Aunt Ellen was waiting on the porch in a +starched white apron, and took in the situation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +with quick sympathy. She saw her girls' +disappointed, embarrassed faces and their +cousin's worn one.</p> + +<p>Aunt Ellen gathered Ruth in her arms. +"Leave her alone, honies, she is just tired out," +she explained to the ranch girls. And without +the least effort from Ruth, Aunt Ellen got +her in bed, fed her some broth and told her to +go to sleep and not to worry.</p> + +<p>In the big living-room with its splendid +pine fire, Jack, Jean, Frieda and Olive ate +their feast of welcome alone.</p> + +<p>It was hardly worth while to have taken so +much trouble to get ready for a guest who +looked neither at you nor your house when she +came in to it.</p> + +<p>Jack was plainly cast down. Jean, Frieda +and Olive were almost as discouraged.</p> + +<p>"I think Cousin Ruth is tiresome," Jean +exclaimed petulantly. "I don't see why she +couldn't have spoken to us."</p> + +<p>Frieda's blue eyes filled with tears. "I +don't believe she is going to like us very much," +she added disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"I am dreadfully afraid of her already," +Olive sighed. "Are you sure, Jack, that +you explained to her about me? She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +not like my living with you at the +ranch."</p> + +<p>Jack put her arm about Olive and drew her +toward the fire. "Of course Cousin Ruth +will care for you as much as she does for any +one of us, Olive; she has to," Jack insisted. +"Remember that while you haven't any name +of your own, you are Olive Ralston. Isn't it +splendid that old Laska and Josef have left us +in peace? I wonder if they do intend to give +you up to us without any more fuss!"</p> + +<p>Olive shivered a little in Jack's grasp. "I +hope so," she answered fervently. "Laska +and the old Indian life seem hundreds of years +away. Yet I have been at the ranch only a +little less than a month."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, Olive," Jack returned thoughtfully. +"Let us just be glad to-night that we +have one more evening alone;" which shows how +Jack felt about the arrival of the new chaperon.</p> + +<p>The girls sat up quite late. Frieda went to +sleep with her head in Jack's lap, Jean fell to +nodding, but Olive and Jack were wide awake. +Olive was older than the ranch girls had +thought her at first. She must have come +next to Jack, although old Laska had never +told Olive her exact birthday.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>ALL SAVE JACK!<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>IT was nearly noon next day when the +latest comer to Rainbow Lodge awoke. +She still felt sore and stiff from her long +journeyings, but she could never remember +such a blissful sleep in her life.</div> + +<p>Out her bedroom window, Ruth thought +she caught the sound of the girls' voices and +dipping into her wrapper, threw up her +window blind. The sun flooded her room with +a curious radiance. Ruth felt she had never +known what real sunlight was before. It certainly +cleared away the mists from her heart +and brain.</p> + +<p>Ruth gazed around her room. It was a joy +to her in its wide sunlit emptiness. The +girls had hung white muslin curtains at the +windows, the little pinewood table, chair and +bureau were painted white and the bed was +white iron. A little fire burned in the low +grate, for Aunt Ellen had stolen in and laid it, +without wakening their guest. There was no +color in the room except the soft brown stain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +on the walls and floor, and one bright, red +and black Indian blanket.</p> + +<p>Ruth understood that the girls had made +the place lovely for her. She began to feel +that perhaps they did want her with them +after all. Unconsciously she yielded to the +cheerful spirit of Rainbow Lodge and hurrying +into her clothes, found Aunt Ellen ready +with her toast and coffee.</p> + +<p>Aunt Ellen explained that the ranch girls +had disappeared somewhere about the ranch. +They had waited for their visitor, but when +it seemed that she was going to sleep all day, +they vanished.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't mind, Miss," Aunt Ellen +murmured apologetically, "but they can't +somehow stay indoors, so long as the good +weather holds."</p> + +<p>Cousin Ruth went shyly out on the ranch-house +veranda. She was thinking regretfully +of what a bad impression she had made on +her cousins the night before, because she, too, +had planned a very different kind of meeting. +No recollection remained of any one of the +girls, except Jack, whom she would always +remember as the young Centaur she saw +racing across the plains.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ruth strolled slowly down the path through +the cottonwood trees. She was beginning to +feel lonely, and hoped one of the girls would +turn up soon. Above her head the yellow +leaves rustled softly and the brown landscape +no longer looked uninteresting. It was all +new and strange, she thought, but some day +she might learn to care for it.</p> + +<p>If Miss Drew had not been so deep in her +reflections, she would not have been so terrified +a moment later. For suddenly in her way +there loomed a big shaggy animal and a pair +of huge paws clung to her shoulders.</p> + +<p>Ruth screamed.</p> + +<p>"Down! Shep, down!" cried a merry voice. +"I am so sorry, Cousin Ruth. Shep is our +watchdog. He never realizes that visitors +don't understand his friendly intentions."</p> + +<p>Jean slipped through an opening in the +trees, carrying a tin bucket on her arm. "I +have been for some milk," she explained. +"The cows Jim keeps for our use have their +stable near Jim's house and Aunt Ellen +wanted some extra milk and sent me for it. +I hope you feel quite rested."</p> + +<p>Jean sometimes tilted her head, with its +mass of heavy brown hair, a bit to one side,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +when she was deeply interested. She surveyed +their new chaperon with such a merry, +friendly sparkle in her wide-open brown eyes +that Ruth was charmed with her at once. +She couldn't have guessed that Miss Jean +Bruce was making a rapid inventory of Miss +Ruth Drew's character, inside and out.</p> + +<p>"Manner, stiff and old maidy; complexion, +bad; hair pretty, if she fixed it differently; +mouth looks like she has eaten something +acid, except when she smiles, then mouth and +eyes quite nice; figure small, but distinctly +good."</p> + +<p>Ruth was patting old Shep, for as usual +Jean was talking in a steady stream. "Hope +you didn't mind our going off and leaving +you," she apologized. "You see we have a +good many small duties about the ranch. +Jack probably won't be back until luncheon, +but I am sure we will soon find Frieda and +Olive."</p> + +<p>Ruth leaned over. "Won't you kiss me, +Jean?" she asked unexpectedly. "I have an +idea you and I may be good friends." She +guessed that Jean was mischievous and full +of fun, but not nearly so hard to influence as +headstrong Jack.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jean's manner softened. She put down +her milk pail and gave the much-discussed +cousin an affectionate hug. "I hope you are +going to be happy with us at Rainbow Lodge," +she exclaimed. "You know we are used to +doing pretty much what we like, but remember, +if things go wrong, you are going to tell +us how to behave," and she ended her advice +with such a funny expression that Cousin +Ruth laughed and slipped her hand through +Jean's arm.</p> + +<p>"Just let me get through with playing +'Molly the Milkmaid,' Cousin Ruth, and we +will go find the other girls," Jean suggested +when they got back to the ranch house. A +minute later Jean reported that Aunt Ellen +thought Olive and Frieda were somewhere +near the creek. Olive had suggested that she +would try to catch some fresh fish for Cousin +Ruth's luncheon.</p> + +<p>The waters of Rainbow Creek were no longer +in danger of flowing into the Norton ranch. +Jim and his men had built a dam at the end of +Rainbow Lake, where the dynamite explosion +had taken place. The Ralston Ranch had +filed suit for damages against Mr. Norton, +but the claim had not yet been settled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ruth and Jean crossed some stepping-stones +to the wooded side of the stream and +had walked only a short distance beyond, +when Ruth spied a gleam of color a little +farther on. It was Frieda, who wore a red +Tam, a red sweater and her long blonde plaits +tied with red ribbons. She was sitting on +the stump of an old tree sewing some bits of +ribbon together as calmly as though she had +been in a little rocking-chair by the fire. She +looked so like a little German mädchen, though +she was so far away from the <i>Vaterland</i>, that +Ruth wanted to laugh aloud.</p> + +<p>"Frieda!" called an unfamiliar voice.</p> + +<p>Frieda glanced quickly up. She was making +a pincushion for their new cousin and +had not had time to finish, but hoped to be +through with it before Olive landed her fish.</p> + +<p>The bits of silk ribbon fluttered to the +ground as Frieda caught sight of a stranger +not much larger than Jean. She had her +arms outstretched and such an eager look +in her nearsighted eyes that Frieda flew +straight to her.</p> + +<p>"I am awfully glad to see you, I am really," +Frieda announced, giving her new cousin an +old-fashioned hug. "There are such a lot of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +things I want you to show me that Jack and +Jean and Olive don't know a single thing +about. And I am sure I shall like you in +spite of what—" But a warning look from +Jean cut short Frieda's confidences.</p> + +<p>"Where is Olive?" Jean asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"She is not very far away," Frieda answered, +"but you must walk softly or you will +frighten the fish."</p> + +<p>Cousin Ruth tiptoed as softly as Frieda +could wish. She was curious to see this new +ranch girl whom Jack had written her about, +and she would have been sorry to have missed +her first vision of Olive.</p> + +<p>Olive hung out over the water, where the +creek deepened into a small pool, under the +branches of a scrub pine tree. One slender +arm clung to a limb of the young tree as she +looked down into the muddy water in the +shadow of the evergreen boughs. Ruth had +a quick and vivid impression of her glossy +black hair; her delicate figure, with its peculiar +woodland grace, clothed in an old green dress +the color of the autumn grass, and caught her +breath in wonder. The girl looked like a +dryad who had stolen out of the heart of a +tree to catch an image of herself in the water.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Olive, don't fall in the creek," Jean +called out gaily. "Come and be introduced +to Cousin Ruth; she would rather see you than +have fish for her luncheon."</p> + +<p>Olive gave a startled cry and Jean made a +dive for her. But Olive did not tumble into +the water. She gave a quick jerk to her +fishing line, hooked and drew in a good-sized +trout. Then Olive slipped up the bank to the +others. Ruth looked curiously at the dark, +rich coloring of her face; she did not seem +like an Indian, and yet she certainly bore +no resemblance to an American girl. +Cousin Ruth felt that she would be an +interesting study, although Olive was too +shy to say more than a dozen words of +greeting.</p> + +<p>"Come on, let's walk a little farther along +the creek, Jack won't be home for a while yet," +Jean declared. "Jack thinks the ranch would +go to rack and ruin unless she were around +to boss things."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think maybe it would?" Olive +questioned gently.</p> + +<p>Jean laughed. "Oh, I expect so, Olive; +but how you do take up for Jack! Cousin +Ruth, you will have to protect Frieda and me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +Olive thinks Jack is perfection and agrees to +anything she says."</p> + +<p>"Look, look! Oh, please don't talk," +Frieda cried in excitement, pointing up in the +sky above the bed of the creek.</p> + +<p>A weird troop of birds was flying toward +them, uttering a queer, guttural noise. They +were some distance off, but their short wings +seemed to clack like Spanish castanets and +their long legs looked like dangling bits of +string.</p> + +<p>"What on earth are those creatures?" +Ruth asked helplessly. She was surely seeing +interesting sights in what she had thought a +barren and desert land.</p> + +<p>"They are sand cranes," Olive whispered +softly. "Let's be quite still. They are flying +so low, I think they mean to alight. +They must have mistaken the creek for a +river."</p> + +<p>Frieda snickered and put her hand to her +mouth.</p> + +<p>"Shsh, Frieda," Olive cautioned. "These +funny birds are as shy as deer. If they do +alight, they will probably come down in the +cleared field."</p> + +<p>The birds swept slowly down nearer the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +earth in a half circle, still uttering their curious +cries. It was as Olive said, they were moving +toward an open field.</p> + +<p>The four girls crept breathlessly through the +trees and bushes, until they could find +peepholes.</p> + +<p>The cranes dipped down. One of them +touched the ground, then another descended, +and the third joined them; the birds stood +each with a long thin leg drawn up out of +sight, until the whole flock had landed in a +circle on the ground. The leader must have +squawked: "Bow to your partners, swing +your corners," for the birds immediately +started a stately dance. They flapped their +wings, they twisted their long necks, they fanned +their short tails and made strange signs +to one another. They hopped together to a +given spot and then hopped back again, +never for a single moment losing their solemn +dignity.</p> + +<p>Ruth held in as long as she could. But +really this dance of the sand-hill cranes was +the funniest sight she had ever seen in her +life! She laughed silently, until the tears ran +down her cheeks, her glasses slid off her nose +and she forgot she had ever thought of being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +homesick. Frieda chuckled softly at first. +But finally Jean and Olive joined in, and the +secret audience burst into a roar.</p> + +<p>The leader of the cranes cast a shocked, +horrified glance behind him, clacked a signal +to his followers and the birds rose together +in flight.</p> + +<p>Olive ran out into the field and a long, light +brown feather fluttering downward from the +last bird in the flock, rested for a second in +her black hair. Frieda skipped toward her. +"Give the feather to me, Olive," Frieda +begged. "It is exactly what I want to trim +my doll's hat."</p> + +<p>But Olive made no answer, and when she +joined Ruth and Jean she looked a little pale.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble, Olive?" Jean asked. +"You look so funny, just like you were +frightened over something."</p> + +<p>Olive shook her head. "Oh, I know I am +silly," she explained, "and I don't really +believe in it. But there is an old Indian +legend, that when a bird drops a feather at +your feet, it is to give you a warning of approaching +danger. There is an Indian story +of a young chief who was on his way to war. +Three times an eagle cast down a feather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +before him. The chief knew what the signal +meant, but he went on into battle just the +same. Of course he and his men were +killed!"</p> + +<p>Jack was waiting at the ranch house when +the girls returned. She tried to stifle the +pang of jealousy she felt when Frieda clung +to her new cousin, instead of racing to her in +her usual fashion.</p> + +<p>Jack and Ruth shook hands politely. Each +one of them tried to be as friendly as possible +to the other. But to save their lives they +could not get rid of their first feeling of antagonism.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"THERE is not the least harm in it, +Cousin Ruth. It is only that you +don't understand our Western customs," +Jack announced sweetly.</div> + +<p>She was standing in front of the living-room +fire with her hands clasped behind her. Her +head was up in the air, showing the firm line +of her chin and the mutinous expression of +her eyes, which were half closed.</p> + +<p>It was after tea at Rainbow Lodge and, +except for Jack and Cousin Ruth, the scene +would have been a peaceful and beautiful +one.</p> + +<p>Jean was playing softly on a new piano +which had lately been installed at the Lodge, +for among other things the new governess was +giving the ranch girls music lessons. Jean, +who had studied before and had a good deal +of talent, was rarely away from the piano +when she was in the house. Frieda leaned +against her cousin, watching her play, while +Olive had a book in her lap, pretending to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +read. Cousin Ruth sat by the library table +with a basket of mending beside her and a very +uncompromising expression on her face. She +was pale to-night, although she looked in +better health and younger than she had when +she first arrived at Rainbow Ranch three +weeks before.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to differ with you, Jack," +Ruth returned firmly. "But it would be +very difficult to convince me that a round-up +is any place for a young girl. If it is a western +custom for girls to attend them, then I think +the custom is shocking. In any case I am +certainly not willing for you to go."</p> + +<p>Jack's eyes flashed defiantly. For three +weeks there had been a kind of armed neutrality +between Jacqueline Ralston and her +new cousin. Jack considered that she had +been very patient with Cousin Ruth's bossing. +Ruth believed that she had been very forbearing +with Jack's pride. Jack had given +up her beloved custom of riding over the +ranch every morning, to spend three poky +hours in the schoolroom with the other girls, +but she did not intend to be interfered with +any further in her plans for running their +ranch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am sorry, Cousin Ruth," Jack argued, +still keeping her temper under control. "In +anything else I should be quite willing to give +up to your judgment, but you see I happen +to know about our Wyoming round-ups and +you don't. They are not nearly so wild and +bloodthirsty as you imagine. I shall not go +near the place where they are herding the +cattle, though lots of times women drive over +to the round-ups and stay on the outskirts of +things just to see the cowboys and horses pass +by. It's simply great!" For a moment +Jack's eyes sparkled, but then she tried to +appear more serious. "Besides, Cousin Ruth, +it happens to be a matter of business for me +to attend the round-up this fall. This is the +last one until spring and, as I told you, it +will be only a small one, but lots of our cattle +have been disappearing for months and I +want to consult with some of our neighboring +ranchmen about it. Jean Bruce, do please +stop making that noise," Jack demanded, her +bad humor flashing out at Jean.</p> + +<p>Jean brought her music to an end with a +loud crash, and then came over and sat down +cross-legged on a rug by the fire in front of +Ruth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't waste your time arguing with Jack, +Cousin Ruth," Jean advised. "When she +says she ought to do a thing, she means she +intends to do it. It is perfectly absurd for +Jack to insist that she has any business at +the round-up, for she knows perfectly well +that Jim can attend to everything. It is +nobody in the world but old Dan Norton who +is stealing our cattle and it seems to me we +had better not have any more trouble with +him, until more important affairs are settled."</p> + +<p>"I entirely agree with you, Jean," said +Cousin Ruth severely. "Jack, you are not +old enough to decide such matters for yourself."</p> + +<p>Jack did not answer. She directed a single +angry glance at Jean, but Jean was hard to +quarrel with. She made the most irritating +speeches and then looked as innocent as a +lamb. Frieda had stolen up to Jack and +slipped her hand in her sister's. It frightened +Frieda terribly when people quarreled, and +Jack saw that her little sister's eyes were full +of tears.</p> + +<p>Jack walked over and sat down in a big +chair, drawing little Frieda up in her lap and +there was an uncomfortable silence in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +room until feet sounded along the hall and +a knock came at the living-room door.</p> + +<p>"Why it's Jim!" Jean exclaimed in surprise, +scrambling to her feet. "I wonder +what brings him up to the ranch house to-night? +We have seen hardly anything of +him since Cousin Ruth arrived!"</p> + +<p>Ruth bent her head lower over her work. +It was true. She need not have feared Mr. +Colter's influence with the ranch girls, for he +had not been to the Lodge, except on business, +since she undertook to chaperon them. He +was very polite to her, but he seemed afraid +to speak in her presence. Ruth wondered if +she seemed as much of an old maid to him as +he had thought her at first.</p> + +<p>"Jim, what's up? You are a swell to-night," +Jean teased. "Did you think we were giving +a party?"</p> + +<p>Jim did look different. He wore a stiff +white shirt instead of a soft flannel one and +could hardly turn his head in his starched +linen collar.</p> + +<p>Frieda flew to him with a little cry of welcome.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, baby?" Jim demanded, +noticing Frieda's flushed cheeks. As he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +gazed slowly around the family group, he +noticed Miss Jacqueline Ralston's haughty expression +and Miss Ruth Drew's severe one; +saw Olive's troubled face and Jean's mischievous +one. "I guess I had better be going," +Jim suggested, backing toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Jim," Jack insisted carelessly. +"There is nothing the matter, only Cousin +Ruth does not wish me to go to the round-up +with you in the morning. Will you please +tell her that cowboys aren't all villains!"</p> + +<p>Jim frowned. "If your Cousin don't want +you to go, Jack, seems like you had better stay +at home," he declared quietly.</p> + +<p>A little flush of triumph spread over Ruth's +face. This was her first trouble with any one +of the ranch girls and their friend had sided +with her. She gave him a grateful glance, +then closed her lips more firmly than ever. +With any one of the four girls save Jack, she +would have tried persuasion instead of command. +But it seemed to her perfectly useless +to attempt to influence Jack.</p> + +<p>Jack shrugged her shoulders. "I don't +agree with you, Jim," she declared obstinately.</p> + +<p>Jim brought his lips together with a snap +and stared straight at the elder Miss Ralston.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +"Look here, Jack," he said, "wasn't it you +who asked your cousin to come out here to live +with you, so as to have some one to tell you +what was right? Now it seems to me that +you only want her to tell you what you happen +to want to do. I wasn't at all certain that +you ought to ride over to the round-up with +me, but I've been treating you like a boy so +long, I can't somehow remember you're a +girl. Stay at home and keep out of mischief." +Jim laughed.</p> + +<p>Ruth smiled, thinking the battle was won, +but Jack got up calmly and marched out of +the room and they heard her bedroom door +close.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid Jack is kind of hard-headed, +but you mustn't mind," Jim murmured +apologetically. "You see she has always had +things pretty much her own way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, let's don't talk about Jack," Jean +expostulated. "Jim, I have been telling +Cousin Ruth that it is perfectly absurd for +her not to learn how to ride horseback and +that she might as well be buried alive as not +to know how to ride out here on the ranch. +The very idea, we can't go to return Mrs. +Simpson's and the lovely Laura's call without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +hitching up our old mess-wagon. For +goodness sake, won't you teach Cousin +Ruth to ride? She won't be so scared with +you."</p> + +<p>"Sure Mike," Jim exclaimed heartily and +then turned a dark mahogany from embarrassment. +He had intended to use only copy-book +language in his conversation with the +new governess.</p> + +<p>Ruth was surprised. Jim was a puzzle +to her, but there was no doubt that he was +very kind and very good-looking.</p> + +<p>"I shall be horribly stupid and nervous, +Mr. Colter," Ruth protested, "but if you are +sure you won't mind the trouble?"</p> + +<p>Jim did not leave the ranch house until ten +o'clock that evening. He managed to have +five minutes alone with Ruth, after the girls +said good-night.</p> + +<p>"Miss Drew," he whispered, "will you be +good enough not to let Olive go away from the +ranch alone? I came up to the Lodge to-night +not knowing whether or not I should tell the +girls, but I have received threatening notices +from the Indians lately. They say they are +going to have the girl back with them at any +cost. I don't believe they have any right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +to her. She is old enough to be a free agent, +but the Indians are a queer, revengeful lot. +They can bide their time and strike when you +least expect it."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE ROUND-UP.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>JUST after dawn, Olive stole softly into +Jack's and Jean's bedrooms. Jean was +asleep. But Jack's place was empty. On her +pillow was a sheet of paper addressed to +"Miss Ruth Drew."</div> + +<p>Olive alone of the group before the living-room +fire in the evening just past, had realized +that Jack had no idea of giving up her +intention.</p> + +<p>Olive slipped quickly into her clothes, +determined to follow her friend. She was +unusually timid, but she knew that Jack must +not go alone among the wild cattle and the +strange men who gathered at the autumn +round-up. The girl had little knowledge of +what a round-up was like but knew that the +Indians often went to it and camped about on +the outskirts of the plains to enjoy the racing +and sports that usually closed the day's +work.</p> + +<p>Jack must have had about a half hour's +start of Olive. She rode as fast as she could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +tear for the first few miles of the way, knowing +that Jim had started several hours before. +Their cowboys had been off over the plains for +two days searching for their stray cattle and +herding them into the great open field selected +for the round-up. There was no one to follow +her and Jack slowed down. Then her heart +began to fail her the least little bit, for she +supposed everybody at the ranch would be +furious with her for her disobedience.</p> + +<p>Jack heard another horse coming along the +trail behind her. Her repentance vanished, +for she presumed Miss Drew had sent some one +to bring her ignominiously back home.</p> + +<p>"Jack, Jack," Olive's gentle voice called. +"Won't you please slow down a little? Your +horse is faster than mine and my poor beast +is tired already."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline waited, but she stared at Olive +reproachfully. "I did not think you would +come to try to make me go back home, Olive," +Jack exclaimed. "I thought you knew that +when I said I intended to do a thing, I would +do it, in spite of all the Miss Ruth Drews and +Mr. Jim Colters in the world."</p> + +<p>Olive knew that Jack was behaving abominably +but she could not help feeling the deepest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +admiration for her. To Olive, Jack's +courage and high spirit were glorious. Olive +was so shy and frightened; she had borne so +much ill treatment from the time she was a +little girl that her nature was almost crushed +and she could only contend with people when +she was driven to the last limit of patience. +But when Olive made up her mind to a step, +she had the Indian's power of endurance.</p> + +<p>"I only came to go along to the round-up +with you, Jack," Olive replied quietly.</p> + +<p>Jack flushed. She was fairly sure of being +able to bear her own burdens, but she did +hate getting other people into trouble. "You +are awfully sweet, Olive dear, but do go back +home," Jack urged. "Jim and Cousin Ruth +will both be furiously angry with us and there +is no reason why you should have any of the +blame. You know you will hate this old +round-up and be dreadfully frightened, and +that you are only coming on my account."</p> + +<p>Olive shook her head. "Never mind, Jack," +she answered, "I have come with you now +so I would have to get my share of the scolding +and I am not going to have you go to +that place alone." Olive kept her horse +just behind Jack's and the two girls rode<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +for a short time in silence. By and by Jack +sighed.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Jack?" Olive asked +quickly.</p> + +<p>Jack laughed wickedly. "Oh, it is not +that I have repented of my evil deed, Olive," +she returned. "It is only that I am so dreadfully +hungry. I sneaked off this morning +without a bit of food. I know we can get +some lunch at the mess-wagons, or perhaps +we may find some one we know at the round-up. +But the question with me is, how am I +ever going to live until then?"</p> + +<p>Olive silently produced two rolls with +slices of bacon between them.</p> + +<p>"I stole them on my way to the stable," +she announced happily. "I knew you hadn't +eaten anything and I didn't dare to wait."</p> + +<p>The two girls ate their outdoor breakfast +ravenously, for both were enjoying their +morning ride. It was cold, but they wore +heavy sweaters and corduroy riding skirts +and besides, the swift ride had sent the warm +blood tingling through them. Jack was in +brown and Olive in green, the color Jack +liked best for her. The sun had just risen +and there was a faint rose glow over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +bare prairies, and in the distance the girls +spied a few coyotes racing along over the hard +ground in search of their breakfast, but for +miles and miles there was no sign of human +life.</p> + +<p>Finally the girls rode up to a pair of tents +set up within no great distance of the plain +chosen for the round-up. There was a fire +near one of them, but the girls saw no people +about and decided that they must have been +used by the cowboys for their sleeping quarters +at night.</p> + +<p>Olive brought her pony closer to Jack's.</p> + +<p>"Don't be nervous, Olive," said Jack +reassuringly. "I expect the round-up is a +pretty wild business, but we won't go near +enough to get into trouble and you must be +sure to stay close to me. I shall try to see +some one to ask about our cattle and then we +will start right back home. We will be sure +to be at Rainbow Lodge by night."</p> + +<p>Away off in the distance, the girls soon saw +a great swirling cloud of grey dust, rising +over the yellow plain. They could distinguish +an enormous mass of moving objects +and hear a far hollow roaring and bellowing +of men and animals. To the left, across a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +diagonal trail, Jack saw a dark line of wagons +at some distance from the round-up. She +knew they were the mess-wagons and carriages +of the ranchmen, who came over to superintend +the branding of their cattle. If the +ranchmen happened to live near the scene of +the round-up their wives and families sometimes +drove over to spend a few hours, but +the women were careful not to go near the +frightened animals and returned home before +night.</p> + +<p>The two girls moved slowly along this trail.</p> + +<p>Jack's eyes were dancing and her cheeks +were glowing with excitement. She dearly +loved this typical western scene and its noise +and savagery did not frighten her. It was a +part of the business of the cattlemen to which +she had always been accustomed. She was +sorry of course that the poor animals had to be +burned with the brands of their owners, but +since the cattle ranged together through vast +tracts of land, she knew of no other way by +which one ranchman could distinguish his +cattle from another's. Jack had been careful +never to witness the branding, but she had +often seen the cowboys driving the herds +across the plains.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Olive did not feel so cheerful. The +distant noise and the surging crowd alarmed +her. She wished that she and Jack were safe +at home.</p> + +<p>Coming at full speed down the trail toward +them, the two girls spied two cowboys wearing +the full cowboy regalia, leather suits with +fringed trousers and immense sombrero hats, +tied under their chins.</p> + +<p>"Great Scott!" cried a familiar voice. +"Here come Jack Ralston and her Indian +girl! What a place for a couple of girls to +be alone!"</p> + +<p>Jack's ears burned. She recognized Dan's +tones but was not so much abashed by meeting +him, as she was by Frank Kent's astonished +face. The young English fellow's surprise +was unmistakable.</p> + +<p>"May I stay with you until your escort +joins you, Miss Ralston?" Frank asked immediately. +"The men about here are pretty +rough and if you should happen to get too +near the cattle it might be dangerous. I am +told they sometimes break out and start a +stampede."</p> + +<p>Jack kept her face turned away while +Frank was speaking. She was actually<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +ashamed to return his friendly gaze. Frank +had entirely separated himself from Dan +Norton, who was grinning scornfully at Olive +and Jack.</p> + +<p>"Please don't worry about us, Mr. Kent," +Jack said quietly. "We won't get into danger. +I don't exactly like to tell you, but we rode +over to the round-up by ourselves. You +understand that we didn't mean to go near +the men or the cattle, but I thought we might +find some one we knew near the mess-wagons."</p> + +<p>"Come on, Frank Kent," Dan Norton yelled +impatiently. "Do you think I have got time +to waste while you talk to Jack Ralston all +day? I told Laura we would be back with +them in half an hour. Hustle."</p> + +<p>Frank Kent's face was no longer pale, as it +had been when Jack had her first meeting +with him on the Ralston Ranch. It had been +tanned and reddened by his weeks in the sun +and air of Wyoming, but that did not account +for the sudden color that flamed in it. +"Be quiet, Dan, you cad," he ordered sharply. +"Go when you like, I shall stay with Miss +Ralston and her friend."</p> + +<p>"I say, Miss Ralston," Frank suggested +suddenly. "Mr. and Mrs. Simpson are not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +very far away. They came over in their +automobile, because Mrs. Simpson thought +maybe her sister and niece would like to see +the cowboys from the different ranches ride +up to their work. Gee, they are stunning-looking +fellows, aren't they? I wish I were +an artist, I would like to paint them. Won't +you come over to Mrs. Simpson with me? +They are well out of any danger and I know +Mrs. Simpson would want you and Miss Olive +to join her."</p> + +<p>An unregenerate twinkle returned to Jack's +eyes. "To tell you the truth, Mr. Kent, I +would like awfully to go over and stay with +Aunt Sallie. Olive and I feel very strange +here alone, but the fact is I deliberately ran +away from home to come to the round-up +and Olive rode along to protect me. I am +ashamed to confess my sin to Mrs. Simpson."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless you had better come," +Frank urged, and for once, Jack yielded to +another will.</p> + +<p>It might have been wiser to have turned +back home than to have faced Aunt Sallie +and her Eastern relatives, but Jack and +Olive could not have ridden to Rainbow +Lodge without having something more to eat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +Olive already seemed exhausted. She was +quite pale and scarcely lifted her eyes. Jack +knew that Olive hated to meet the members +of the house party, whom she had not seen +since the time when she was rescued from +being Miss Laura Post's maid.</p> + +<p>"Jack Ralston, the most unlikely place in +the world is the most likely place to find you," +Mrs. Simpson exclaimed laughingly, as Frank +and the two newcomers rode up to her big +touring car. "What in the world are you +girls doing here?"</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell the whole truth and nothing +but the truth, Aunt Sallie?" Jack demanded, +smiling at Mrs. Simpson and bowing to Mrs. +Post, Laura and Mr. Simpson. Mrs. Post +put up her lorgnettes, as though she were in +a box at the opera, to gaze at these extraordinary girls. +Their clothes were dusty and +their hair showed the effects of their long, +morning ride, but turning, Mrs. Post beheld +her beloved Laura swathed in a pale pink +motor veil and a long fur coat, and breathed +a sigh of admiration and relief. Surely her +Laura was not in the least like these Western +tomboys!</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson shrugged her handsome<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +shoulders. "Well, you usually tell the truth, +whatever else you do and don't do, Jack," +Mrs. Simpson avowed. "I know you have +run off, so just stay here and have lunch +with me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson was talking to Jack, but she +was really interested in Olive. How the girl +had changed, in the few weeks since she had +seen her: she had always been pretty, but +she had lost her look of fear. Her grace and +quiet manner showed beyond a doubt that +from some source she had a heritage of gentle +blood. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson shook hands +with Olive very kindly, but Mrs. Post and +Laura utterly ignored her. Olive showed no +resentment, but Jack was exceedingly provoked.</p> + +<p>The girls dismounted and climbed into the +automobile. Now and then groups of cowboys +would pass by them, jingling their spurs +and joking with one another. Olive recognized +a number of Indian boys, who had +lived in the Indian village, where she had +been brought up. Among them, she thought +she saw old Laska's son and her supposed +brother, Josef.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson was worried over Dan's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +return to their party. She and Mr. Simpson, +and indeed all the ranchmen in the neighborhood, +now knew of Mr. Daniel Norton's claim +to the ownership of Rainbow Ranch, and his +efforts to get it away from the ranch girls. +Most of the neighbors deeply sympathized +with the Ralston girls. Mrs. Simpson dreaded +a meeting between Jack and Dan. She +knew they were open enemies and hated each +other very sincerely.</p> + +<p>But when Dan joined them, Jack showed no +trace of ill feeling. She had thought matters +over and decided that good manners compelled +her to behave as naturally as possible. +She had no right to continue a quarrel, when +she and Dan were both guests.</p> + +<p>Dan Norton was in no such humor. He +was furious with Frank for having brought +Jack and Olive to Mrs. Simpson, and he was +determined to get even with Jack, if he possibly +could, for Jim's treatment of him at +their last meeting.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson had an early lunch, since they +meant to return to their ranch in a short time. +The tablecloth was spread out on the ground, +and unconsciously she placed Laura and Dan +next Olive, who made no effort to speak to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +them. But Dan whispered something to +Laura, immediately they got up and marching +to the other end of the line of guests, sat +down directly opposite Jack and Frank.</p> + +<p>Nobody had much to say. To save her +life, Jack could not talk naturally with Dan's +sneering face across from her. Mr. and Mrs +Simpson did their best, but the luncheon party +was a failure.</p> + +<p>Dan was awaiting his opportunity.</p> + +<p>"Jack," Mr. Simpson remarked innocently, +"Jim Colter tells me that you have recently +been losing some of your cattle and young +colts. He says that they disappear from your +ranch, and when they are seen again they +have the brand of another owner on them. +That is a pretty bad business. Have you +any idea who is responsible for the trouble?"</p> + +<p>Jack shook her head desperately. She was +determined to say nothing that could make +any trouble. "No, Mr. Simpson, we don't +know. That is, it don't make any difference. +Perhaps we are mistaken," she answered +lamely.</p> + +<p>Mr. Simpson was puzzled by Jack's manner. +There was an awkward silence.</p> + +<p>Dan leaned over and whispered to Laura in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +a tone that could be distinctly heard, not only +by Jack and Frank, but by every member of +the small company. "I shouldn't think Jack +Ralston would worry about losing a few of her +old cattle. She is going to lose something else +pretty soon, that is a good deal more important."</p> + +<p>Laura snickered nervously. She caught +sight of Jack's face.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson frowned and glanced hastily +at Jack. Mr. Simpson's eyes flashed and he +too watched his young girl guest. Jack was +distinctly conscious that everybody in the +party stared straight at her when Dan ended +his insulting speech.</p> + +<p>Jack felt herself turn cold all over. Only +her face was scorching hot. Half a dozen +angry retorts trembled on her lips. She +started to speak, but then she turned to +Frank and said quietly. "Won't you tell +me something more about your home in +England? I am awfully interested."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson breathed a sigh of relief. +Only Laura seemed disappointed. There was +nothing she loved half so well as a scene and +she fondly believed Dan and Jack meant to +treat her to one.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, Jack went over to Mrs. +Simpson. "Aunt Sallie, I think Olive and I +had better start back to the ranch now. You +were awfully good to give us our luncheon, +but we ought to be at home by dark."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simpson caught Jack's hand. "You +were a trump, Jack dear," she whispered. +"I would like to shake that red-headed boy +if I had a chance at him, but I believe somebody +else will when you go."</p> + +<p>Jack smiled, though her voice trembled a +little. "I don't think Dan and I ought to +carry on our quarrels at your table, Aunt +Sallie," she answered. "But you know if +he says anything like that to me again, I +should die if I didn't answer him back. So, +good-bye."</p> + +<p>Jacqueline bowed her farewells and she and +Olive started toward their ponies.</p> + +<p>Frank Kent had a moment alone with Dan.</p> + +<p>"Dan Norton, you have got to settle with +me for that speech, you cub," he insisted, in a +white passion of anger that startled his host.</p> + +<p>Dan thought Frank too much of a gentleman +to be willing to fight.</p> + +<p>"All right," he rejoined calmly, "choose +your own time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> + +<p>Half way over to their horses, Frank joined +Olive and Jack.</p> + +<p>"I am going to ride back to your ranch with +you, Miss Ralston," Frank announced quietly.</p> + +<p>Olive looked relieved, but Jack shook her +head firmly.</p> + +<p>"You are awfully good, Mr. Kent," Jack +protested. "But really Olive and I can go +home perfectly well alone. We would rather +not trouble you."</p> + +<p>Frank assisted Olive on her broncho and +then climbed into his own saddle, Jack being +already mounted.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Simpson thinks I had better go home +with you," Frank repeated carelessly. "And +I think you might let me act as an honorary +escort, because in case you don't I shall simply +ride along behind you."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A RACE FOR LIFE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"JACK, don't you think we are going too +near the corrals?" Olive inquired timidly.</div> + +<p>It was high noon. The cattle had been +brought by the cowboys into the open field +and each ranchman had divided his own +stock from the herds. The animals had been +driven into the corrals, separate enclosures +made of fence rails, one belonging to each of +the neighboring ranches. In the afternoon +the branding of the cattle took place, but +most of the cowboys had now gone off to get +something to eat before the real business of +the day began. Only a dozen men guarded +the entire stockade.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Olive," Jack answered lightly. +"I believe, if we ride a little closer, we may +get some news of Jim. I would like to see +him to ask him some questions, before we +start back home." Jack rode gaily ahead, +forgetting her disagreeable scene with Dan +Norton. The swarming hundreds of cows and +calves, the bright sunshine, the brilliantly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +blue sky overhead, the noise and splendid +action of the scene interested her tremendously.</p> + +<p>"I think Miss Olive is right, Miss Ralston," +Frank insisted gravely. "We must not ride +too near the stock, for fear of a stampede."</p> + +<p>"Just a few feet more," Jack begged, turning +half way around in her saddle to glance +back at Olive and Frank.</p> + +<p>At this moment an immense bull burst out +of one of the corrals and made a wild dash +across an open field. He was not headed +toward Jack, or Olive, or Frank, and there +did not appear to be the least danger.</p> + +<p>Two of the cowboys made a rush to cut off +the bull's charge but turned back a moment +later to their companions. It was more important +for the men to keep the other animals +from following their leader, than to recapture +the one infuriated beast.</p> + +<p>Jim Colter had warned Jacqueline, when +he first gave her the new pony, that "Tricks" +was well named. He had told her that she +would have to watch the little animal pretty +closely, but Jack was a trained rider and so +far the mare had not given her any trouble. +She had not realized, when she came to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +round-up, that "Tricks" was one of the +ponies that had been formerly used by the +cow-punchers at the round-ups.</p> + +<p>Tricks saw the bull break away from the +stockade and make its plunge for freedom at +the moment that Jack turned her head and +slightly relaxed her hold on the broncho's +bridle.</p> + +<p>The pony's fighting blood was up. She did +not intend to see a bull escape when it was her +business as a cowboy's pony, to head him off +and turn him back toward the herd. She made +a leap forward, running diagonally across the +plain, in order to cross in front of the bull at +the shortest possible distance. For the first +time in her experience, Jack Ralston completely +lost control of the horse she was +riding; the pony's headlong rush had been too +unexpected. Tricks was a good-sized broncho +with a will of her own and was convinced that +she was doing her duty.</p> + +<p>Jack had unfortunately taken off her +gloves. People in the West never ride the +hard-mouthed little Western ponies, without +thick leather gauntlets. She pulled on her +reins until they cut into her flesh, but the +pony ran on. Still Jack had no idea of not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +being able to control her before she got into +danger.</p> + +<p>No one, except Frank and Olive, saw Jack's +wild dash. The cowboys were riding in and +out among the corrals, swinging their long +ropes and forcing the excited cattle back into +their enclosures.</p> + +<p>"Get back out of the way," Frank commanded +Olive quickly. Almost before she +realized what had taken place, Frank Kent +was off like a shot after the flying Jack.</p> + +<p>His horse pounded along, but Jack was +yards ahead. Frank did not know what he +could do, if he reached Jack. He could only +grasp her bridle and try to stop both of their +ponies. At best, if he got ahead of her, he +might be able to shut off the bull's mad charge. +There would be only one way to do it and that +would be to let the animal rush upon his +horse. He knew nothing of the cowboys' +methods. He had no lasso. He had seen +pictures of Spanish toreadors with their +flaming scarlet scarfs. If he only had as +much as a red handkerchief, perhaps he might +divert the bull's course. Of course Frank +realized that this would have been a forlorn +hope. But nothing really mattered. Jack's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +pony continued to gain on his; he had not a +fighting chance of overtaking her.</p> + +<p>Frank hardly dared look at Jack. He could +see so clearly what would happen: the range-bred +pony would take her straight in front of +the furious bull, not knowing that her rider +was not a cowboy and would be unequal to +the task of turning the great brute aside. She +would do her part and expected Jack to do +the rest. Jack did not have so much as a +small riding whip in her hand, having lost +it in her pony's first plunge ahead. But she +now realized her peril; one glimpse of her face +would have revealed this. It was white as +marble save for the flying, bronze gold of her +hair. Her eyes were wide open and almost +black and her lips were parted. But there +was no give-up in her expression; determination +marked every fine cut line.</p> + +<p>Jack had considered but two alternatives. +Either she must stop her wild pony or drive +back the maddened bull. Now she knew she +could do neither. She was only a few yards +from the bull and understood that an animal +in a wild rush for liberty, never turns aside +unless he is driven.</p> + +<p>Half unconsciously Frank Kent closed his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +eyes. Jacqueline Ralston had seemed to him +so splendid, typifying to him the free, outdoor +life of the great West. He realized that +Jack had lots of faults, but that she was the +kind of girl who would make a wonderful +woman. She was a true American girl, brave, +generous and gay. The thought of her being +injured, or killed, was horrible. She was the +very spirit of youth and energy.</p> + +<p>Frank looked again. Jack was going to +face death squarely, or else to drive her pony +across the bull's course, before it reached her. +Yet the last method seemed hopeless, because +the pony was master of the race, not Jack. +The girl had stooped low in her saddle. Her +feet were out of the stirrups and she lay almost +flat across the pony's back. She seemed to +slip to one side. Frank watched for another +horrified second. Jack and her horse were +not a hundred feet from the bull.</p> + +<p>Then something slid along the ground +on the right side of the pony, ran a few feet, +let go of the bridle and sat down limply in the +brown grass.</p> + +<p>Frank shouted as he had never thought +it in him to shout. The trick of dropping +from her horse that Jack had just effected,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +he had seen accomplished once in a Buffalo +Bill show in London. The vision of a girl +doing it for her own safety was the most +thrilling sight he had ever seen in his life.</p> + +<p>Tricks, deserted by her rider, and uncertain +what she should do alone, sprang to one side +as the bull lunged at her, and the danger was +all over in an instant.</p> + +<p>Frank found Jack shaking like one in +a chill. But she smiled at him bravely and +put out her hand to let him pull her off the +ground.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, Frank," she said, forgetting +formalities in her thankfulness, "if I live +long enough, I may some day learn to do what +I am told. Please take me back to Olive."</p> + +<p>Tricks, exhausted by her wild run, was led +back to Jack, a weary and repentant pony.</p> + +<p>Jack was silent and shaken. She followed +Frank back to the spot where they had left +Olive, without a word.</p> + +<p>The cowboys were returning to the work +of branding the cattle and it was high time +the ranch girls started for home. But +neither Jack nor Frank could find a trace of +Olive. She had completely disappeared. +They rode over to the spot where they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +lunched with Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, but the +automobile party had left for their ranch. +Frank inquired of a dozen cowboys. No one +of them had seen Olive.</p> + +<p>Jack tried not to cry, but the day's experiences +had been too much for her. She had +never been so utterly wretched before.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, Miss Ralston," Frank urged. +"I'll bet you anything that Miss Olive has +run across your overseer, Jim Colter, and has +returned to Rainbow Ranch with him."</p> + +<p>Jack shook her head despairingly. "Olive +would not go away without telling me, for +anything in the world," she insisted. "Besides, +Jim would not leave me here. He is +somewhere around, won't you find him?"</p> + +<p>Frank insisted that Jack wait in a place +of safety a mile farther along the trail toward +their ranch. For an hour Jack walked up and +down a few yards of barren ground, her pony +resting near her. The time seemed an eternity.</p> + +<p>By and by Frank arrived with Jim Colter. +Jim looked sternly at Jack, but she was past +caring what he said or thought of her.</p> + +<p>"Can't you find Olive, Jim?" Jack pleaded.</p> + +<p>"I'll do my best," Jim returned. "Mr. +Kent will take you home to the ranch."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But I can't go without Olive, Jim. I'll +stay here until you find her. She has probably +just lost her way," Jack entreated.</p> + +<p>"Hope so," Jim repeated shortly. "But +in any case, your place is at home."</p> + +<p>Jack hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you made enough trouble for +yourself and other people already to-day, +Jack?" Jim questioned keenly. And Jack +submissively bowed her head.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>NO NEWS.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>WEEKS passed and there was no word from +Olive. The ranch girls had almost +ceased to talk of her return. They had begun +to lose hope.</div> + +<p>Immediately after Frank Kent and Jack +left him, on the day of the round-up, Jim +Colter had gone to the Indian village, but he +could find no trace of Olive there. Curiously +enough old Laska had disappeared from her +hut several days before, so she could scarcely +be held responsible for the lost girl. She had +said nothing of where she was going nor +when she expected to return. In Indian +fashion, she had departed silently, carrying +only a bundle strapped across her back.</p> + +<p>Josef would give no information. Jim +tried him with threats and bribes, but the +boy insisted he knew nothing of Olive. He +had not seen her in many weeks. It was +useless to try to make an Indian betray a +secret he meant to keep and Jim Colter knew +better than to waste his time. The Indian is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +as suspicious and reticent to-day as he was +in the old days, when no kind of torture ever +wrung a sound from him.</p> + +<p>Advertisements were inserted in the papers +in the nearby towns, but no girl answering +to the description of Olive was ever reported. +She had vanished as completely as though +she were dead. By and by Jim Colter gave +up the search. He did not believe that they +would ever see the Indian girl again.</p> + +<p>Frank Kent kept quietly at work. He +was very rich, and without a word to anyone, +offered a reward for Olive's return, so large +that had Laska seen it and had she had Olive +in her possession, she must surely have given +her up. Frank came often to Rainbow Lodge. +The girls no longer thought of him as the guest +and relative of their bitterest enemy, and the +name of the Nortons was never mentioned +between them. He used to take Jean and +Frieda and Cousin Ruth off on long excursions +to keep them amused, but Jack would rarely +go with them. She seldom left the ranch and +spent the greater part of the time alone, refusing +to talk either of Olive or the prospect +of losing Rainbow Ranch, which loomed +nearer with each passing day. Jack was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +polite to Cousin Ruth, but she never expressed +any penitence to her or to Jim for her wilfulness, +which seemed to be responsible for +Olive's loss. But daily Jack grew paler and +thinner. She seemed much older and quieter +than the radiant beautiful girl who had been +the ruling spirit of the entire ranch. Everyone +who knew her worried over the change in +her, and most of all Ruth, who wondered if +she were not somehow to blame for the whole +disaster. If she had not opposed Jack's +going to the round-up, Jim would have taken +Jack with him and Olive would not have +left the Lodge.</p> + +<p>Jean and Frieda bore their troubles differently. +Sometimes they would talk of Olive +and again of the loss of their home and Jean +would weep passionately for a few minutes +and Frieda would cry softly. But they +would soon cheer up and be convinced of +Olive's immediate return and the discovery +of the lost deed to the ranch. Jean even +suggested that they need not perish if the +ranch were taken away from them. She +was quite sure she would be able to work +and support herself and possibly Frieda. +And for once Jack laughed, for, as she explained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +to her cousin, she and Jean knew +nothing in the world except how to ride +horseback, and ranch girls though they were, +they could hardly be expected to join a circus.</p> + +<p>But no one interfered with Jack. She took +her long rides alone in spite of the cold weather, +for they seemed to be the only things that +would quiet her restlessness. When she was +in the house, she was either searching in every +conceivable crack and corner for the lost title +deed, or else gazing listlessly out of the window.</p> + +<p>One clear, frosty morning, Jack came in to +an early breakfast, wearing her riding habit.</p> + +<p>"You won't mind if I am away from the +ranch all day to-day, Cousin Ruth?" she +inquired quietly. "I would rather not say +where I am going, but I shall be in no danger +and I shall be home before dark."</p> + +<p>Jean waved her fork pettishly in the air. +"What in the world are you up to, Jacqueline +Ralston?" she demanded. "Frieda and I +awfully wanted you to go over to Aunt Sallie's +for the day with us. You knew she had +asked us and Cousin Ruth can't go, because +she won't learn to ride horseback. I should +think you would be tired of mysteries and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +secrets by this time, I am sure I am. Rainbow +Lodge didn't use to be like this. It is +the most changed place I ever saw," Jean +sighed mournfully. But Jack made her no +answer and waited until Ruth agreed to her +request.</p> + +<p>By ten o'clock, Ruth Drew was alone at the +Lodge. The day began early at the ranch, +as the winter twilights soon closed in and +there were no lights but the stars to guide +the wanderers over the prairies.</p> + +<p>Ruth had assured the girls she would not +be lonely. She had lots of work to do and +letters to be written to the people at home. +But somehow Ruth did not feel in the mood +for any of her tasks. She was astonished at +herself. Already the old village life in the +East seemed far away; Rainbow Lodge and +the vast, primitive West meant home to her +now.</p> + +<p>Outdoors the world looked utterly deserted. +There was not a leaf, nor a blade of green +grass visible, not a human being, nor an animal +in sight, except old Shep, who howled dismally +at having been left at home by the +ranch girls.</p> + +<p>Ruth slipped into a heavy old coat and went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +for a walk up and down the frozen fields in +front of Rainbow Lodge. Old Shep kept +close beside her, with his warm nose thrust +in her hand. There were many things Ruth +wished to think about and it would be easier +to see clearly and to know what was best in +the open air.</p> + +<p>Ruth was exceedingly vexed with the overseer +of Rainbow Ranch. What was to become +of Frieda, Jean and Jack, in case they +were forced to give up their home at the beginning +of the New Year? Jack had confided +to Ruth that they owned six thousand +dollars in bank, beside the stock on their +place. But Jack had no ideas for their future, +and Mr. Jim Colter had not seen fit to discuss +with their chaperon any plans that he might +have for the girls. Of one thing Ruth was +determined, whatever happened, she would +stay with the girls. She had a little money +and she could earn her living as a teacher if +it were necessary, but the ranch girls should +not face the world alone. Nevertheless, Mr. +Colter should explain affairs to her more +fully. It was all very well for him to argue +that Rainbow Ranch could not fall into other +hands. He should look at both sides of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +question. Ruth had not seen the overseer, +except for a few minutes at a time, since the +evening before the round-up. He certainly +had not treated her with proper respect.</p> + +<p>The longer Miss Ruth Drew thought of her +grievances, the angrier she grew. Of course +there was nothing personal in the matter, but +as the girls' chaperon, she deserved more +consideration.</p> + +<p>Ruth's cheeks were glowing by this time, +partly from the cold air, but quite as much +from temper. She had changed a good deal. +Her complexion was certainly not sallow. +She no longer wore her glasses, except when +she wished to read, and her smooth hair was +now blowing becomingly about her face under +an old felt hat of Jean's carelessly put on.</p> + +<p>But Ruth was not being altogether honest +with herself; she did have a little private +spite against Jim. He had promised to +teach her to ride horseback weeks before and +he had never referred to the subject again. +She dearly wished to learn. She had wanted +to ride over to return Mrs. Simpson's call and +had only pretended an indifference to Jean, +because she did not intend in any way to +remind Mr. Colter of his forgotten promise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ruth saw Jim riding up the road that led +to the Lodge and drawing herself up, gave +him a stiff little bow. Of course she had +known all along that a cowboy could not be +a gentleman, but Jim had struck her as being +rather superior, in spite of his bad grammar. +However, no man worth the name broke a +promise to a woman. Ruth turned her back +on the rider and continued her walk with her +head in the air.</p> + +<p>Jim reined up in front of the frosty young +woman. "Good morning," he said in rather +an embarrassed fashion.</p> + +<p>The lady's manner was not encouraging. +"Good morning," she repeated severely, "I +suppose you wanted to see one of the girls, but +they are all away from the ranch."</p> + +<p>Jim shook his head slowly, staring at Miss +Ruth Drew with a puzzled frown. He had +not the faintest idea why she was so haughty, +and clearing his throat, continued to stare +at her without a word until the silence grew +more and more embarrassing.</p> + +<p>Ruth's cheeks grew redder. She was +irritated by Jim's silence and the expression +of his eyes, which were as blue and direct as +a young boy's.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you want to leave a message for one +of the girls or to speak to Aunt Ellen or Zack?" +Ruth inquired irritably.</p> + +<p>But still Jim did not speak.</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake, tell me, what do you +want, Mr. Colter?" Ruth demanded. And +suddenly Jim laughed.</p> + +<p>"Well, I thought I wanted to speak to +you, Miss Drew," he drawled in his slow, +good-humored fashion. "But perhaps I had +better not. I kind of thought maybe you +would like me to give you a riding lesson this +morning, but I can see now you wouldn't. +I have been trying to get one of the ranch +ponies broke in for you ever since I heard you +wanted to learn to ride and now I have got +a little broncho that is just about as gentle +as a kitten. But, so long, maybe you'll be +feeling more like it another day."</p> + +<p>Jim rode calmly away, leaving Ruth looking +as young and foolish as a cross child.</p> + +<p>She did want a horseback lesson to-day +of all days, when she was alone and a little +blue. Ruth ran after Jim, entirely forgetting +her dignity.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Colter, please wait," she called. "I +do want to learn to ride, dreadfully, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +should be awfully glad to have you show me +how this morning, if you don't think I would +be too much of a chump."</p> + +<p>"Chump!" Ruth's ears burned. Jean's +favorite word, "chump," had slipped out of +her lips as unconsciously as though she had +never been a New England school marm with +a perfect horror of slang. She wondered if the +ranch overseer had noticed her break.</p> + +<p>When Jim turned and smiled down on Miss +Drew, she was no longer the superior person +he had just left.</p> + +<p>"You'll learn to like it better in Wyoming, +once you can ride," he answered kindly. +"Why, when the spring comes, our barren +prairies blossom like a rose and the birds are +about everywhere. The ranch girls want +you to get fond of it out here. There ain't +any feeling much worse than being homesick +for the things you left behind you. Now +run along and rig yourself up in some kind of a +riding habit of the girls. I will have the pony +waiting by the time you are ready."</p> + +<p>Ruth rushed into the house, wondering +why she felt so absurdly young and happy +all at once.</p> + +<p>The young chaperon did not acquire the art<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +of learning to ride horseback in a single lesson. +But Jim was far too sweet-tempered to let her +know that she was the hardest pupil he ever +tried to teach. Both the master and pupil +were elated when Ruth finally managed to sit +straight in her saddle, without slipping to +either side, and to hold her reins while the +pony walked sedately up and down with Jim +at his head.</p> + +<p>Late that afternoon, Ruth was sitting alone +by the living-room window. It was growing +dark. The day had been a tiring one and she +was feeling a tiny bit depressed. Jack cantered +up to the house, gave her pony over to +their colored man, and without so much as a +glance at Ruth, strode past the living-room +into her own room and closed the door behind +her.</p> + +<p>Ruth sighed. It did seem to her that Jack +might have come in to speak to her, thinking +that she had been by herself all day. Ruth +was beginning to make up her mind that it +was an utterly hopeless desire that she and +Jack should ever be friends. Jack was so reserved +and unapproachable and so bent on +having her own way.</p> + +<p>Ruth did not expect Frieda and Jean to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +return for another hour. Mrs. Simpson had +promised to send some one over with them, so +they could have a longer visit with her. It was +growing spooky in the living-room, with only +the dancing shadows of the fire. Aunt Ellen +had forgotten to bring in the lamp and Ruth +started toward the kitchen down the wide hall.</p> + +<p>Outside Jack's door she heard a queer +noise that startled her. It was a strange +choking sound, as though some one were in +pain. Ruth listened. The sound was not +repeated, but the room was in perfect darkness +and she became vaguely uneasy. She did +not understand Jack's disposition. The girl +had been so quiet and unhappy since Olive's +disappearance and Ruth wondered what Jack +was doing in the dark alone.</p> + +<p>A knock on the door brought no answer +and Ruth tried again.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" a stifled voice asked.</p> + +<p>"Won't you let me come in, Jack?" Ruth +urged, feeling her uneasiness increase.</p> + +<p>"I would much rather you wouldn't, I +prefer to be alone," Jack replied in her +habitual frigid tones. But Ruth heard a +queer little catch at the end of her sentence +that was unfamiliar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ruth had her hand on the doorknob and +without waiting for permission she turned it +and walked into Jack's room. "I think it is +my duty to come in to you, Jack," she explained, +in her self-righteous, lady-governess +tones that Jack so much disliked.</p> + +<p>The room was in almost total darkness and +Ruth could catch only a faint outline of Jack's +figure, drawn up in its usual proud pose. +But to-night her head was drooping. The fire +had burned out in the grate, except for a few +colored ashes, but Ruth found paper and wood +and soon brought it to a blaze. She said +nothing and Jack neither moved nor spoke. +But Ruth caught one glimpse of Jack's face, +when the firelight leaped up into the room.</p> + +<p>She found an old eiderdown wrapper in +the closet and pushed a low chair near the +fire, putting the warm grey gown over Jack's +rigid shoulders and pushing her softly toward +the chair.</p> + +<p>"There, dear, sit down by the fire," Ruth +said gently. "I did not mean to intrude on +you and I will leave you by yourself, but you +must try and not let yourself get ill because +you are miserable. There may be a lot, you +know, that you must do for Frieda and Jean."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ruth could see that Jack had lost her self-control +and was trembling with nervousness +and cold, and turned to leave her, but Jack +held out a shaking hand.</p> + +<p>"Please don't go yet, Ruth," she pleaded, +as though she were one girl talking to another. +"There is something I want to try to tell you +if I can."</p> + +<p>Ruth sat quietly down. She realized all at +once how much harder it is for some people to +say the things they feel, than it is for others.</p> + +<p>"It's about Olive," Jack declared after an +instant. "I have been over to the Norton +ranch to-day. I brought myself to ask a favor +of Mr. Norton. I asked him to let me speak +to the Indian boy, Josef, who works on his +ranch. Mr. Norton consented, if I would +allow him to stay in the room while I talked. +Of course he thought I wanted to play him +some trick about the ranch." Jack spoke +indifferently. "I offered Josef everything I +had in the world, a hundred dollars father +once gave me and my share of my mother's +jewelry, if he would only tell me what had +become of Olive. He wouldn't tell." Jack +shook her head despairingly. "I am beginning +to believe Olive is dead."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't think so, Jack, somehow, though +I don't know," Ruth returned gravely.</p> + +<p>"I suppose there is something I ought to +say to you, Cousin Ruth," Jack continued +quietly. "I ought to tell you and Jim that +I am sorry that I went off to the round-up +against your wishes. Of course I am sorry, +it <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'seemes'">seems</ins> almost foolish for me to speak of it. +I don't want to ask you to forgive me, because +of course I shall never think of forgiving myself +for losing Olive, no matter how long I +live."</p> + +<p>Ruth took hold of Jack's cold fingers. Jack +spoke with perfect self-control, but Ruth +began dimly to understand something of +her disposition.</p> + +<p>All at once, Jack's calmness gave way. +She began to sob, as though she were torn in +pieces. "Oh, Cousin Ruth, won't Olive come +back ever? I used to think that having to +give up our ranch would be the most dreadful +thing that could happen, but now I don't. +Olive was so gentle and so timid. I thought +I was going to protect and take care of her as +though she were Frieda, but instead of that +it was I who led her into danger."</p> + +<p>Ruth and Jack talked quietly after this,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +until Jean and Frieda came home. Ruth had +entirely lost her school-teacher manner and +forgot to preach.</p> + +<p>Jack's reserve having once broken down, +she told Ruth all she had suffered in silence +for the past few weeks.</p> + +<p>Though Ruth and Jack might have many +conflicts of their two strong wills in the future, +they would never misunderstand each other +so completely as they had done in the past.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>OLIVE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 313px;"> +<img src="images/i-250.jpg" width="313" height="500" alt="Someone Crept Up Behind Her With the Stealthiness Possible Only To an Indian." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Someone Crept Up Behind Her With the Stealthiness Possible Only To an Indian.</span> +</div> + + +<div class='cap'>ON the day when Jacqueline Ralston's pony +ran away so unexpectedly, and Frank +Kent commanded Olive to get out of danger, +Olive had watched them both for a few +minutes in a kind of daze. She had then +moved slowly backward, keeping them both +in sight, until she dimly saw Jack's leap from +her horse. She then continued alone along +the trail which she and Jack had traveled +that morning, until the men and the cattle at +the round-up were entirely out of sight, +supposing that Frank and Jack would follow +her as soon as they crossed the field.</div> + +<p>Olive stopped her horse finally. She was +not looking about her, nor thinking of anything +in particular except her joy in Jack's +safety. She heard no sound.</p> + +<p>Someone crept up behind her with the +stealthiness possible only to an Indian. Suddenly +Olive felt her hands drawn behind her +and she was forcibly dragged from her horse.</p> + +<p>Two or three times only she cried for help,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +but before she could do more, a handkerchief +was tied tightly about her lips and she was half +dragged and half carried to one of the very +tents which she and Jack had passed that +morning on their way to the fateful round-up.</p> + +<p>Old Laska sat stolidly smoking a pipe. +"Ugh," she grunted, but her small, beady +eyes flashed like coals in the sunlight.</p> + +<p>Although Olive was the last person she +expected to see at such a moment, she took +the girl from Josef without a word, and held +her so that she could not get away. Josef +disappeared immediately. He must have +gone to hide Olive's pony from sight.</p> + +<p>Olive struggled, but she could make no +outcry, and in a little while Laska bound her +so that she could scarcely move. The girl +was a captive inside the tent at the moment +when Frank Kent and Jack passed it, unheeding, +on their return to Rainbow Lodge.</p> + +<p>The Indian woman and her son had not +thought to capture Olive at such a time and +place. But they had vowed to get hold of +her by any means they could. From the +instant Josef discovered that Olive had come +to the round-up, he had not lost sight of her +and when he found her alone, he was ready.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p> + +<p>All afternoon she lay in the tightly closed +tent with Laska, neither one of the women +moving, Olive being in a stupor from terror +and pain. By and by, when the dusk fell, +Josef appeared silently at the tent entrance, +leading Olive's pony and a horse for his +mother. He bound Olive to her horse, and +the two women set off across the prairies, +Laska with her bundle across her back and +two jugs of water swung over her saddle.</p> + +<p>Through all the long, cold night, Laska +traveled across the barren plains with her +hand on Olive's bridle. At first there were +shadowy fences that marked the division of +one ranch from another. These were soon +lost and the way lay through a trackless waste, +unbroken by a trail of man or animal. Laska +had gone into the desert where there was no +drop of pure water.</p> + +<p>In the morning the Indian woman rested, +built a fire, untied Olive and fed her, knowing +that if the girl ran away from her now +she would not be able to go back the way they +had come. She must be lost and could not +fail to perish from hunger and thirst. Still +Laska guarded her closely.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the third day of their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +journeying, Olive saw on the far horizon some +curling wreaths of smoke. Nearer there were +a few lean horses grazing on the scanty sage +grass. A dozen Indian tepees were set up in +what seemed a small oasis in the desert. +She knew that Laska had brought her to the +winter quarters of a small band of Indians +who would not stay in a village overlooked +and regulated by the United States Government. +These Indians lived the old nomad +life, wandering from place to place, setting +up their tents like gypsies, wherever they could +remain unmolested.</p> + +<p>Olive almost gave up hope. Here in the +wilderness she would never come in contact +with any one from the outside world. When +the spring came, the Indians would gather up +their belongings and wander farther away, +taking her with them, where she could have +no chance of return.</p> + +<p>Laska and Olive had a tent of their own. +In it they lived for some time, rarely speaking +to one another. Nobody was unkind to her +and for some reason Laska left her alone. +It was growing bitterly cold and the old +woman used to sit smoking all day by the fire, +either in her own wigwam or one nearby.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +She did not try to watch Olive, knowing that +she could not get away. Laska had told her +that she should never leave the Indians again; +that they would return no more to the neighborhood +of the white men and Olive seemed +quietly to accept her fate. Even Laska, who +had trained the girl in her own school of +silence, was deceived by her. She thought +that Olive no longer cared enough to go back +to dare the perils of the trip.</p> + +<p>At first it did appear utterly impossible to +Olive. She had not the faintest idea in what +direction she and Laska had traveled and on +arriving among the Indians, her pony had been +taken away from her. She had no food except +the little bit she was allowed each day, +barely enough to live on and knew that at +any time now, the swift and bitter snowstorms +of the prairies might fall. Any traveler caught +out in one of them would surely perish and +not be found until the snow melted.</p> + +<p>There were many hours, when Olive thought +she would run away anyhow and take whatever +fate came to her. But the memory of +Jack, and Jean and Frieda, Cousin Ruth and +Rainbow Lodge sustained her. A little time +before and she had not known any happiness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +Now the thought of the joy she would +feel if she ever got home again, gave her +patience and courage to wait.</p> + +<p>Few of the older Indians paid much attention +to the captive. Whatever story old +Laska had told them, they had accepted +without question. They spoke very little +English and rarely stirred, except when the +men went off on long hunting expeditions to +return with whatever deer they managed to +slay.</p> + +<p>Olive had only one friend, one person, with +whom she talked in the weeks she spent in the +Indian camp. This was Carlos, a young +Indian boy, about twelve years old. He +was as slender and straight as a young pine +tree, the fastest runner, the best rider and +shot in the tribe. She had paid little attention +to the boy at first, but he followed her +like a shadow. Often when she came out +of her tent, she would find him sitting like a +brown image on the cold ground. The boy +was like an Eskimo and appeared to feel +neither hunger nor frost.</p> + +<p>One day Olive set out for a walk. She did +not wish Carlos to go with her, but before she +had gone many rods the boy appeared at her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +side and quietly marched beside her, looking +neither to the right nor the left.</p> + +<p>"Go back, Carlos," Olive commanded +quietly.</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head. "You travel not +alone over the prairies, you do not know your +way," he answered stolidly.</p> + +<p>Olive's patience gave out. She seized the +boy by the shoulders, tears came into her +soft black eyes and her face quivered. "You +are hired to spy on me, Carlos," she said accusingly. +"I thought I had one friend in you."</p> + +<p>Again Carlos shook his head. "Why +should I spy on you?" he asked. "What is +it you would do?"</p> + +<p>Then Olive told the boy what had happened +to her.</p> + +<p>Very quietly he listened. "I knew you +were not of our people," he answered. "I +will find the way for you to get back home. +You are a woman and timid. Have faith in +me."</p> + +<p>Olive smiled, and from this day she called +the Indian boy, "Little Brother," but she +had no hope of his helping her and she saw +him far less often. Carlos was away from +the camp nearly every day, returning with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +rabbits that he shot on the plains. Olive +saw him drying the skins and sometimes he +brought her their meat to eat, but he never +referred to his promise to show her a way of +escape from the Indian camp.</p> + +<p>The days were long, but the nights were far +longer and the long twilights the saddest time +of all. Olive sat often in the tent alone.</p> + +<p>One evening Laska had departed earlier +than usual to the wigwam of a neighboring +squaw and Olive was huddled up on the dry +grass in front of their fire, trying to keep from +freezing. The air was filled with smoke. +The girl looked scornfully at the two beds of +straw, covered with coarse Indian blankets, +where she and Indian Laska slept. Before +her eyes came the vision of the splendid living-room +at Rainbow Lodge. She could see the +ranch girls and their cousin before the great +fire and wondered if they ever thought of her +now. Olive did not know how long a time +had passed since she was stolen.</p> + +<p>Sticking out from under Laska's bed was +the bundle which she had borne on her back +across the plains. Until this moment she had +kept it hidden from Olive, except during their +trip, when she had gotten their food from it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> + +<p>Olive was not particularly interested in +her discovery. But it occurred to her that +this bag might have something to eat in it, +which would aid her, if she could manage to get +away. She drew out the dirty sheepskin +bag and thrust her hand into it, shuddering +at the things she touched. There were some +odd bits of soiled clothing and a small package, +tied up in an old, red cotton handkerchief. +Olive had seen the package in the handkerchief +before, in Laska's hut in the village. +But she had never been interested to find out +what it contained. To-night she cared for +anything that would break the monotony of +the long hours ahead of her.</p> + +<p>Olive looked cautiously at the tent opening. +The place was entirely still. There was not +a sound in the lonely tepee, save the blowing +of the winter winds across the desert. The +girl crawled to a spot where the fire cast its +brightest glow. Patiently she worked at the +hard knots in the handkerchief. There was +a roll of money in it tied up with a cord. +Olive tossed the money impatiently aside. +What use was money to her in this wild land? +Olive had known always that Laska got +money from some unknown source. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +always had more than the other Indians in +their village, and Jack had explained to Olive +that this money was sent to Laska for taking +care of her. Olive searched for a bit of paper, +something to show from what place or from +whom this money came. But there was no +scrap of anything of that sort.</p> + +<p>Beside the money, there was a small box +in the handkerchief. It was of delicate, +carved wood and smelled very sweet. Olive +saw at once that the carving had never been +made by Indians. It was far too fine.</p> + +<p>She was so intent on opening this box that +she did not hear a stealthy noise just outside +her tent.</p> + +<p>The lid of the sandalwood chest slid gently +off. Inside, Olive beheld some trinkets, +which she knew in a moment of swift rapture, +must belong to her. One was a curiously +wrought old silver chain, with a beautiful +cross hanging from it. A watch, large enough +to belong to a man, had a girl's picture painted +in it which made Olive catch her breath. +The picture she knew looked like her, only it +was far lovelier. This girl had the same +brilliant yet soft black eyes, the same +straight, glossy hair and the deep, olive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +coloring. She was not an American, but +Olive knew there was no trace of Indian blood +in this woman. Whatever Indian blood ran +in Olive's veins, she guessed she must have +inherited from her father. Beside the watch +and chain, the carved box held but one more +treasure. It was a little book about four +inches square, written in a language that +Olive could not understand.</p> + +<p>The noise at the tent opening grew more +distinct. Some one was peering through a +tiny opening, yet Olive seemed to have neither +eyes nor ears. Her face was flushed with +happiness and she held the odd, sweet-smelling +box close against her cheek.</p> + +<p>Someone entered the tent. At last Olive +awakened and springing to her feet, thrust +her treasures inside her dress. With her eyes +flaming, she turned to face her enemy; for +Olive had not lived all her life among nearly +savage people without learning something +from them. She meant to fight now to save +her possessions, as a real Indian girl would +have fought to the last moment of her strength.</p> + +<p>But instead of the ugly face of old Laska +staring at her, Olive saw the slight figure of +Carlos, the Indian boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> + +<p>Olive held out her treasures eagerly. +"Look what I have found," she exclaimed. +"I know they must be mine."</p> + +<p>The Indian boy regarded the pieces of +jewelry gravely. To him they appeared like +any other trinkets that the Indians loved.</p> + +<p>"I have come to tell you how you may return +to your white friends," Carlos announced +proudly. "I told you that a man would +find a way. It is only women who give up."</p> + +<p>Olive shook her lovely head, her thoughts +still dwelling with her discovery. She did not +understand exactly what the Indian lad said.</p> + +<p>He caught at her dress and pulled it impatiently. +"Listen, woman. I have found a +way for you to get back to your ranch-land. +Do you hear me, or is it that you have changed +your mind like all women and do not now +wish to go?"</p> + +<p>Olive laughed. It was so funny to hear +this small boy take the patronizing tone with +her that the men of his race used toward all +women. She put her arm about him and +drew him down on the floor by her. The +flickering lights of the fire played on the two +dark heads, her hair fine and soft as silk, his +stiff and straight as a young colt's mane.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course I want to go back to my friends, +Little Brother," Olive sighed. "But let's +don't talk of that to-night, I want to be a +little bit happy in thinking that I have found +something that must once have belonged to +my mother."</p> + +<p>But the boy would not be persuaded. +"We must talk of your getting away to-night, +for the time is ready," Carlos declared, in the +solemn tone of a young Indian chief making +ready for battle. "You know I have been +out on the prairies for many days together +and no one knew where or for what I had +gone. I have wandered in many directions +seeking for the home of some white man, for +I know that however much the Indian pretends +he is in a wilderness, he is always to-day +on the border of the white man's land."</p> + +<p>"Well, have you found a friend to help me?" +Olive demanded fervently.</p> + +<p>"I have found no friend," Carlos replied, +refusing to be hurried or disturbed. "But +I have found an iron trail that stretches +across the desert. It must bring you to +where the white people dwell."</p> + +<p>"An iron trail," Olive repeated wonderingly. +"I am afraid I don't know what you mean."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy gazed at her with slow, unmoved +patience. "It has an iron carriage on it that +flies along the trail more swiftly than any +horse can run," Carlos explained. "There +is great heat and noise and smoke like a +prairie fire."</p> + +<p>Olive caught the boy's hand in hers. "You +mean an engine and a railroad track, don't +you, Little Brother?" she queried. "You +have seen a train somewhere out on the desert. +You will take me to it and somehow I will +find people to help me to get back to Rainbow +Lodge." Olive flung her arms about Carlos +and hugged him as she might have hugged +Frieda. She poured out such a flood of +questions, that the boy was convinced he +was right in his scorn of her sex, but he +listened with deep gravity.</p> + +<p>"I do not know all things," he replied +finally. "Only I have laid all day on the +ground near the trail. I know the hour when +the iron carriage passes over it. The walk is +a long one, but if you will follow me, I will +take you there. I will come for you to-night +just before the dawn breaks. When you +hear an owl hoot, you will know that Carlos +is outside your door. You will creep softly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +so that we may have several hours before old +Laska wakes. I will bring food and the skins +of many wild rabbits that I have sewed +together in the evenings, that you may not +freeze."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE WAY OF ESCAPE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>IN the darkness Olive kept tight hold of +Carlos' hand. They ran swiftly and softly, +like frightened hares, each moment dreading +to hear footsteps behind them. But the +darkness hid their tracks and a wind was +blowing, which shifted the sand and whirled +it into hills and hollows, so that not even an +Indian could find the print of any passing +foot. Besides, old Laska slept soundly and +she had not stirred when Olive stole out from +her tent.</div> + +<p>Carlos marched toward the east, where +the sky looked less dark, until the cold dawn +broke. Before the sun was well up the boy +saw something glinting and glimmering ahead +of them like a long steel serpent. He gave +a cry of victory. Breaking away from Olive, +Carlos ran ahead. For a moment he stood +balancing himself on the track rails, waving +his thin brown arms and crowing like a young +chanticler.</p> + +<p>"We will rest here by the iron trail," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +announced happily. "I will build a fire and +we will eat. By and by the great wagon will +pass by, roaring and snorting like an angry +buffalo. It will take you with it." For a +moment the boy's face clouded. Then, as +Olive reached his side, he laughed at the +thought of her joy.</p> + +<p>"But, Carlos," Olive whispered. She was +weary and almost frozen from her long tramp +across the plains. "You have brought me to +the railroad track, but where is the station? +Did you not know that the white man's +trains will not stop unless there is a little +house set up by a wooden platform, where +a man at a window sells you small squares of +paper?"</p> + +<p>Carlos shook his head in confusion. He +had no idea what Olive was talking about, for +he had never seen a railroad depot in the +twelve years of his wandering life. But he +saw Olive's disappointment and knew that +something in his beautiful plan for his friend +was wrong.</p> + +<p>"Never you mind, girl," Carlos insisted, +shaking his straight, black hair, like a little +foreign king, "I will see that the wagon stops +for you here, where we wait."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> + +<p>Olive dropped down on the ground, too +tired to argue or to explain any further. +Carlos ran along the track, finding a few odd +sticks and pieces of wood. He made a little +fire, into which he stuck one long stick, like +a staff, which he had carried from the +camp; but he saw that only the end of it +burned.</p> + +<p>Hungrily Olive ate. She believed that she +must follow the railroad track until she came +to a depot. She had no way of guessing +how many more miles she must walk, nor +how many trains passed over this iron pathway +through the desert; but she did know +that she must save whatever strength she had, +as her only hope was to reach a city somewhere. +She had not Carlos' faith, that the +train would take her straight into the arms +of her beloved friends, yet she knew that once +in a town, she could probably find a way of +communicating with them.</p> + +<p>Carlos and Olive did not dare to talk. +Olive was listening for the sound of a horse's +hoofs, knowing that the journey, which had +been so long on foot, could be made on +horseback in a little while, if old Laska ever +guessed the route they had taken. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +Carlos listened for a louder noise and one to +him far less familiar.</p> + +<p>The boy and girl heard it at the same instant +and both sprang to their feet. Olive's +face grew white and rigid with disappointment; +but the boy's eyes flashed with excitement. +The train was coming along the track +past the spot where Olive and Carlos rested. +Olive feared that her only chance of escape +for that day was gone. She had hoped to +reach a depot before a train went by them.</p> + +<p>Nearer the roar of the engine sounded. It +was in sight far off across the desert, but a +very few minutes brought it close.</p> + +<p>Olive stepped quickly back to be out of +danger and seized Carlos by his woolen shirt +to drag him with her. The boy jerked away, +and before Olive could dream what he intended +to do, he grabbed his burning stick from the +fire. "I'll stop the train for you," he shouted +valiantly. "Only be quick. You must get +on when I command it."</p> + +<p>Like a flash, the brave, brown figure ran +along the track, waving his tiny torch and +facing with all his feeble strength the great +monster of iron and steel that was driving +toward him. The blood of many centuries of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +Indian chiefs must have been back of little +Carlos. He dared the unknown force of this +engine to-day, as his ancestors had the bullets +and powder of their white enemies, with +the same blind belief in his own power against +the forces of civilization.</p> + +<p>Olive saw Carlos go, with a feeling of sickening +horror. The boy was so small, so +stupidly audacious. Olive's, "Come back, +come back!" was lost in the noise of the +train, but Carlos would not have heeded her. +What Indian chief has ever obeyed a +woman? There seemed to be but one fate +for him,—he would be crushed to death in +an instant.</p> + +<p>The engineer saw the boy running toward +his train, and the fire which Olive and Carlos +had built near the track. He had but one +thought: there must be danger somewhere +ahead of them and these children had come +to warn him.</p> + +<p>Fortunately for Carlos, the train which +he had chosen for Olive's escape was not one +of passenger coaches, but a freight train. The +engine was going at far less speed, and quickly +slowed down and stopped.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Olive," the boy shouted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +triumphantly, this time waving his burning +stick like a conquering hero.</p> + +<p>Olive ran toward the car, dazed, breathless, +hardly knowing what had taken place, nor +what she was doing. The Indian boy's spirit +had somehow seized hold on the situation.</p> + +<p>"What has happened, imp?" the engineer +roared out of his car window. "Is something +wrong ahead on the track?"</p> + +<p>Carlos danced up and down, as though he +did not understand what the engineer asked. +He had only a dim idea of the man's meaning +as he knew so few English words. Olive was +slipping by him and Carlos saw that she +meant to do what he had planned. The +engineer was climbing out of his cab, his +back being turned, so that he did not see +Olive swing herself up into the next car. +In an instant the girl had hidden herself in +the midst of great piles of boxes, unobserved +by the other trainmen, who were also interested +in Carlos.</p> + +<p>The engineer was determined to find out +what the Indian lad had to tell him. If the +boy had fooled him and there was nothing for +them to fear ahead, he should get the punishment +he deserved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<p>Carlos guessed the engineer's meaning from +the expression of his face. The boy made +a dart that was almost as swift as the first +plunge of an arrow from a bow. He was a +small brown spot some distance off, when the +engineer made up his mind to run after him. +The man did run for a few rods, but the +idea of catching the boy was ridiculous. +He was like a breath of wind, blowing this +way and that across the prairie. He could +lead the engineer off into the desert, so that +he would not know how to return, and +the man realized this. He climbed slowly +back into his engine, determined to watch +out himself for trouble along the track; believing, +however, that Carlos had played an +ugly trick on him. It would have gone hard +with Olive if she had been discovered at +this time.</p> + +<p>The train went tardily on. Olive could +hear the men moving on the top of the coach +over her head. Once or twice a dirty-faced +trainman stuck his head in the open door +of the freight car, but he saw nothing of +the frightened girl huddled between the +boxes. Olive of course had no knowledge +of where she was going. Her plan was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +crawl out of the car as soon as it stopped +at a town and then try to find some one to +help her.</p> + +<p>But the car did not stop and Olive finally +fell asleep.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A VOICE IN THE NIGHT.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>A ROUGH voice aroused Olive. She sprang +up in terror and stood pressed close +against the piled up freight in the car. It +was an odd-looking figure she made, as though +she had stepped out of a world several hundred +years younger than the present one. +The coarse man who watched her dimly +felt it.</div> + +<p>The girl's shoes were ragged and hardly +covered her slender feet, her skirt was torn +and old. Over her shoulders hung a strange +fur garment, shapeless, save that a hole had +been cut in the center for her head. Her +beautiful black hair was braided and one long +plait hung over each shoulder; her head was +uncovered and her delicate face, with its +pointed chin, was deathly pale. She was +trembling. Dark shadows encircled her great +black eyes and there was a look not of defiance +but of pleading in them.</p> + +<p>So picturesque a passenger had never +before stolen a ride on a modern freight train.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +She belonged to the days of the pioneer settlers +in the new land of America.</p> + +<p>"How did you come here?" the man demanded +gruffly.</p> + +<p>Olive's voice shook. She had thought +it would be easy to tell her story, if she could +only get away from the Indians, but this +fierce man frightened her more than any one +of them could have done. What must she +say? Where could she begin with the tale +of her misfortunes.</p> + +<p>"I stole in, when the train stopped a while +ago, I don't just know when," Olive answered +vaguely. She could not tell how long she +had been asleep.</p> + +<p>"Then you'll git out the next time it stops, +young Missie," the trainman announced +harshly. "I'd put you off right now, but +we are already behind time, because of a +rascally Indian boy a piece up the road. +Better stay hid and not let our engineer catch +sight of you, or he'd make it good and hot +for you. Maybe he would turn you over to +the police."</p> + +<p>Olive could not realize it, but her appearance +had already touched her discoverer. +She crouched in her corner again and bowed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +her head in her slim brown hands, as she had +the day when the ranch girls brought her out +of Frieda's cave. She did not try to defend +herself.</p> + +<p>The trainman climbed up on a box and sat +whittling a stick and watching Olive out of a +pair of shrewd Irish blue eyes. He was not +a fierce man. He had a wife and five tow-headed +children, living in one of the little +frame shacks along the line of the railroad. +The man was clever enough to see that Olive +was not an ordinary thief or impostor.</p> + +<p>"Are you sick, girl?" the man inquired, +surprised by Olive's silence.</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head. "Oh, no, I am +not sick, thank you," Olive answered gently, +"but I am very tired. I ran away from an +Indian encampment before dawn to-day. +Would you mind telling <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'we'">me</ins> where this train is +going?"</p> + +<p>Little by little Olive told the whole history +of her strange life to the Irishman, who sat on +the box in the freight car and never ceased +his whittling for a moment.</p> + +<p>"By St. Peter!" he muttered, when Olive +finished replying to his last question. "This +girl tells a story that might have come out of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +poetry or a history book. The funny thing is, +her story must be true! Oh, well," he +announced to himself, not to Olive, "there is +one thing certain. Nobody can ever make +up in their heads such all-fired queer things +as happen every day."</p> + +<p>But the man had not answered Olive's +question as to where this train was going. +She had not the courage to ask him again.</p> + +<p>By and by Olive saw little houses along the +road and knew that their train was nearing a +small, western town. She got up and touched +the Irishman timidly on the arm. "May I +get off at the station myself, please?" she +begged. "You won't have to put me off."</p> + +<p>The man shook his head severely. "No, +you are not going to get off yourself," he +returned gruffly, "and I ain't going to put +you off either. If you can keep on making +yourself small, and you are a pretty thin kind +of a girl, I am going to take you farther down +the road with us. I have an idea this here +freight train will run along somewhere near +Wolfville in the course of the afternoon. You +have had such bad luck in the past, Missie, +that maybe your luck has changed. Anyhow, +when you butted blindly into this freight car,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +you found a coach going in just about the way +you needed to travel. Don't worry your +head any more about what you are to do. +I'll put you off at Wolfville, and though it +looks a bit cloudy, as though it might mean to +blow up a bit of snow, I expect you'll manage +to get back to the Ralston Ranch, somehow, +before night."</p> + +<p>Olive, satisfied that this kind-hearted stranger +would look out for her, dozed on, half +waking and half sleeping. Neither she nor +her new friend knew how exhausted she was. +She had passed through several weeks of +dreadful hardship, exposure and unhappiness, +and now she felt too happy to think or care +because her head ached dully, and her legs +shook so she could hardly stand on them. +She would be home soon with Frieda and +Jean and Jack!</p> + +<p>Several hours went by. The trainman left +the car and attended to his duties. But +Olive had entire faith that he would not forget +her.</p> + +<p>At a little past five o'clock in the afternoon +the freight train came to a stop near the little +town of Wolfville, which was only a matter of +ten miles from Rainbow Ranch. The wind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +was blowing with a queer, ominous rattling +sound and a few flakes of snow were falling.</p> + +<p>Olive's new friend gazed at her a little +queerly, as he lifted her out on the platform. +There were no people in sight except the +station master, for it was almost dark and the +stopping of a freight train was of little +interest.</p> + +<p>"Sure you know how to get to your friends +from here?" the Irishman asked Olive. She +took time to nod and wave her hand, then +ran swiftly away from the station in the +direction of Rainbow Ranch.</p> + +<p>If Olive had gone into the town, someone +would have driven her to the Lodge, or else +sent word to Jim Colter or the Ralston girls +that she was in safe-keeping for the night. +A prairie snowstorm was approaching and +few people would have cared to trust themselves +to a ten-mile drive at this hour of the +winter evening.</p> + +<p>But Olive did not think of further danger. +Ten miles seemed to her to be so near home +that she could not bear a second's delay in +trying to reach there. For the first few miles +she ran swiftly along, as she knew the trail and +it was not too dark to follow it. The stinging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +wind cut her face and at times the snow +blinded her. But the distance was only a +short walk for a girl who had spent all her life +out of doors in the great West. Yet Olive +should have known what a snowstorm in +Wyoming, with a heavy pall of gray clouds +and a scudding blast, meant.</p> + +<p>After a while, her feet in her worn shoes felt +like wooden pegs stumping on the frozen +earth. Her hands had lost all feeling, although +she managed to draw the rabbit-skin +furs that Carlos had given her, over her +head and to keep her hands under them. The +snow no longer fell in flakes but in white +sheets, lashed and driven by the force of the +storm.</p> + +<p>The trail across the plains to the Ralston +Ranch was quickly hidden. Mountains of +snow piled up in front of Olive, deep gullies +appeared at her feet, where the land was +usually as level as a table, and she had no idea +in which direction she should try to travel. +But she fought her way on, thinking perhaps +that another wanderer might overtake her, +or that she might catch a glimpse of the lights +of some ranch house. If she could find an +objective point ahead of her, she felt that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +might get to it. But to move blindly in a +circle of snow, brought no hope of any relief.</p> + +<p>Yet Olive knew she must keep moving if +she wished to live. She did not suffer the +same agony from the cold, that she had at +first. The wind blew her about, as though +she had been a bit of paper. She staggered +and fell in the snowdrifts, got up and pressed +on wishing that even a wild animal +would scurry past her on the way to its +retreat. But animals are always wiser than +human beings before the approach of a storm. +Every head of cattle, every horse on the +plains, every beast in the forest had found +a rude shelter. Olive felt herself entirely +alone in a savage, white world.</p> + +<p>But in quiet natures like Olive's, there is a +wonderful power of resistance. She had +endured so much, she had learned the fortitude +that comes with misfortune.</p> + +<p>She prayed silently through the hours she +struggled. There were moments when she +believed she spied the light of Rainbow Lodge +gleaming on the cruel surface of the snow. +She would fight her way to this place, only to +discover that her own blind desire had led +her astray.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>Night came on, but there was little change +from the twilight. The few stars that broke +through the clouds only made the way more +blinding.</p> + +<p>Olive's patience, Carlos' planning seemed +to have been in vain.</p> + +<p>Again Olive dreamed she saw some lights +ahead of her. Her mind was no longer clear. +She could not remember why she was out alone +in the snow. She cried for Jack, when she +had the strength, but the tears froze on her +face.</p> + +<p>Olive reached out her arms toward her +vision of the lights of Rainbow Lodge. She +was either too blind or too utterly spent to see +the snowbank in front of her, as suddenly it +shut out her mirage of home. The girl gave +a cry of despair with all the feeble strength +that was left in her and tumbled headlong into +the cold embrace of the snow. But the snow +was no longer cold. It was strangely warm +and she was shut away from the cruel winds.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>JACK IS HAPPY.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"CHILLUNS, it's time for bed," Cousin +Ruth announced softly. "Frieda has +been asleep in my arms for the last ten minutes. +Perhaps I can tumble her in bed without +waking her, she is so frightened at the storm."</div> + +<p>Jean glanced up at the clock over the +living-room mantle. "Do let's wait a little +while longer?" she begged. "I am just at +the most thrilling part of my book and I am +bound to finish it before I go to bed. Jack, +you stay here with me, if Cousin Ruth is going +with Frieda. I don't like to sit up alone. +This storm is a terror! Listen how the wind +howls down the chimney. I hope our stock +won't be frozen to death to-night."</p> + +<p>Ruth led Frieda gently out of the sitting-room +while Jack got up and wandered to the +window. But the frost covered the glass. +She scratched a little space away with a hairpin, +but there was nothing to see outside save +the snow.</p> + +<p>Jack walked restlessly up and down the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +room for a minute. It was just nine o'clock +and she did not feel like going to bed. She +could not read as Jean was doing. These +terrible western storms, that came once or +twice every winter, always filled her with +foreboding. Jack was too good a rancher +not to understand that they caused great +suffering and loss among the cattle. The rude +corrals, which the ranchmen built for their +stock, could not save them on a night like this.</p> + +<p>Jack dropped down on her knees before their +book shelves and began to look over the collection +of volumes that had once belonged to her +father. The books were the same ones that +Jean had found in her uncle's trunk and +brought to the living-room to impress their +new governess on the day of her arrival at +Rainbow Lodge. Shep got up from his warm +place by the fire and trotted over to lie down +by Jack, seeming to know that she was +worried and wishing to offer her his subtle +sympathy.</p> + +<p>Jack turned over the pages of half a dozen +books, shaking them, so that every leaf fluttered +apart.</p> + +<p>Jean glanced over at her cousin. Jack was +quieter and older than ever to-night. "What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +are you doing, Jack, want me to help you?" +Jean asked lovingly.</p> + +<p>"No, Jean, I am not doing anything +special," Jack replied quietly. "I am just +killing time."</p> + +<p>But Jean knew that her cousin was searching +once more for the lost title deed to Rainbow +Ranch and she had gone to the window +to gaze out on the snow with the thought of +Olive on her mind. Even light-hearted Jean +sighed. It was only a few days before +Christmas.</p> + +<p>Jack was getting up off the floor, when a +sound startled her. She jumped quickly to +her feet. Old Shep gave a long howl.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you, Jacqueline +Ralston?" Jean demanded pettishly, partly +because she had just been so sorry for Jack. +"You almost scared me out of my wits."</p> + +<p>Jack was pointing toward the window. "I +heard a noise outside in the snow," she +exclaimed excitedly.</p> + +<p>"You did no such thing, Jack, it's only the +wind howling. It has been making a racket +for the last four hours. I don't see why you +are so surprised all of a sudden. I heard +nothing unusual," Jean protested.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But it wasn't the wind I heard, Jean. +This noise was quite different. Shep heard +it too, see how queerly he is acting," Jack +argued.</p> + +<p>Old Shep had gone to the front door of the +ranch house and was stretched against it with +his fore paws resting on the door.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you didn't hear the wind, it is +some animal that has seen the lights in the +Lodge and stolen near here for protection. +Do sit down, Jack, you make me dreadfully +nervous, staring like that. You know you +haven't heard the sound a second time. Let's +go to bed."</p> + +<p>Jean slipped her arm about Jack's waist, +but Jack pushed her gently off. "I am going +out in the snow to find out what that cry +meant, Jean," Jack announced decisively. +"Suppose it was an animal, I can't allow anything +to die just outside our home to-night."</p> + +<p>Jean clung to her cousin's skirts. "You +shan't go out that door, Jack," Jean avowed. +"You will be blown off your feet by the wind. +You will be frozen. If a wild animal has +come out of the woods for shelter, you'll be +torn to pieces." Jean pictured every horrible +fate that she could imagine overtaking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +Jacqueline. But Jack was quickly buttoning +up her overcoat and tying a thick woolen +scarf about her head.</p> + +<p>"I won't stay out but a minute, Jean dear," +she returned. "Shep will go with me. He +will keep me from getting hurt."</p> + +<p>"I'll call Cousin Ruth, Jack, you are the +most obstinate person in the world!" Jean exclaimed +passionately, but Jack had wrenched +open the big front door of the ranch house, +and plunged out into the night. A gust of +snow swept into the wide hall. Straining with +all her might, Jack closed the door back of her, +so that Jean should not feel the fury of the +storm. With Shep by her side, Jack faced +the white wilderness of snow.</p> + +<p>Jean ran down the hall toward Ruth's +room, but Ruth had already heard the noise +and joined her. For an instant the two +women awaited Jack's return. They believed +that she would come into the house as soon as +she saw what lay ahead of her.</p> + +<p>Jack seized the lantern, that swung always +above the door of their Lodge. The light was +out, but by crouching down and turning +her back to the wind, Jack managed to relight +it. She knew the light would soon blow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +out again, but for a minute it would serve +a purpose.</p> + +<p>Jack climbed off the porch. Shep ploughed +in front of her. Jack swung her lantern once, +twice it flashed, then the wind blew it out.</p> + +<p>But in that space of time she saw something +dark in a mound of snow not far from +the house. Jack felt her way toward it, +guided by an overwhelming instinct. Shep +shook all over, not with the cold, but with the +foreknowledge of what was ahead of them.</p> + +<p>When Jack reached Olive, Shep had already +covered the still body with his own warm one. +Jack pushed Shep away. She had to feel +under the drifting snow before she knew the +object she touched was a human being, but it +was not until her hand touched the delicate +frozen face, that she realized that Olive was +found at last.</p> + +<p>Jack's cry for help brought Ruth, Jean, and +from the kitchen, Aunt Ellen and Zack. +There was such agony in Jack's tones, that +they all believed some horrible thing had +happened to her.</p> + +<p>The women got Olive inside the house, not +one of them having an idea that she was +alive, but no one dared to tell Jack so. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +stripped off the girl's clothes and found the +little sandal-wood box hidden inside her dress.</p> + +<p>If Jack had not already learned to love Ruth +Drew, she would have begun to care for her +to-night. For Ruth knew exactly what to do +for Olive. She would not let the girls and +Aunt Ellen carry Olive too near the fire. +She sent Uncle Zack off to find Jim Colter. +Ruth and Jack rubbed Olive's stiff body with +snow, until their hands felt almost as numb +as hers and forced hot tea between her +clenched teeth. By and by Aunt Ellen and +Jean were allowed to bring warm blankets +and hot irons.</p> + +<p>At last the blue, stark look left Olive's face. +It was Jack who discovered a tiny bit of color +in her lips. Jack flung herself on her knees +and hardly knowing what she was doing, +breathed all the warm, vibrant breath of her +own vigorous body into Olive's almost frozen +lungs.</p> + +<p>After another hour, Olive stirred and moved +one hand. She half opened her black eyes. +"I am all right, Jack," she whispered. "I +have got home at last."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>CHRISTMAS EVE.<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>"IT'S the most beautiful one we have ever +had, Jim; I'm so glad," Jack declared +happily.</div> + +<p>Jim beat the snow from his coat and folded his +arms proudly. "It took all day to get it, Jack, +but it's worth it. Where are the other girls?"</p> + +<p>Jim Colter and Jacqueline were standing at +the base of a wonderful pine tree, whose top +pressed against the ceiling of the living-room +at Rainbow Lodge. The frost still clung to +the tree and the snow and icicles melted into +long chains of diamonds, as they fell in drops +of crystal clearness to the floor.</p> + +<p>"The girls are in Cousin Ruth's room at +work," Jack answered. "Olive and Frieda +have promised not to look at the tree until the +evening. We are going to have everything +in pure white, a regular German Christmas +tree, in honor of Frieda's birthday and her +name. There is a white world inside and out +and we shall be at peace for to-night at least," +Jack ended with a little sigh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jim moved nearer to the tree and shook +one of the branches until the bits of frost fell +to the ground with a soft tinkle like the far-off +music of sleigh bells. He kept his clouded +blue eyes turned away from Jack's.</p> + +<p>Jack slipped her arm through his and +pressed it affectionately.</p> + +<p>"Never you mind, Jim, I didn't mean to +be doleful," Jack persisted. "I'm not a bit, +really. Olive is all right, and you've seen +that that wretched Josef and old Laska have +been sent away, so they can't annoy her any +more. And I think it's perfectly great that +we are going to have such a lovely Christmas +to-night as we have hardly ever had before! +Suppose it is our last one at the Lodge, we +will have it to remember! But, Mr. Colter," +Jack danced away from Jim and made him +a mock curtsy, "you may kindly observe +that I haven't begun to pack up the furniture +at the Lodge just yet. We never say die, +do we, Jim? I think I will have that motto +engraved on a coat of arms for Rainbow +Ranch."</p> + +<p>Jim nodded approvingly. "It's a pretty +good sentiment, Jack," he agreed, as he +started toward the door. "I must be off now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +but I'll be back to-night, promptly at seven, +for the festivities."</p> + +<p>But Jack clung to him. "See here, Jim, +you can't go so soon. You haven't said hello +to Cousin Ruth or showed her the tree. You +know you want to see her. She has had a bad +cold ever since the night we found Olive and +it is only polite that you should tell her you +are glad she is well." Jack's tones were perfectly +serious and her expression as innocent +as a baby's.</p> + +<p>Jim flushed a little angrily. "No. I don't +want to see her, at least not particularly. +Why should I?" Jim demanded awkwardly. +"That is,—"</p> + +<p>Ruth was standing at the living-room door +with her arms full of mysterious packages. +She laughed and came into the room, glad +that Jim looked as awkward as she felt on +the day of her first horseback ride with him.</p> + +<p>When Ruth was putting down her packages +Jack winked solemnly at Jim, and in return +for his irritated glance at her, she slipped +quietly out of the room.</p> + +<p>All the way down the hall Jack was smiling +to herself. "Wouldn't it be too funny if old +Jim should fall in love with Cousin Ruth?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +she thought. "Goodness knows why he is so +touchy about her! She has been awfully nice +to him, since he taught her to ride horseback, +but the friendlier she is, the queerer he +behaves.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +'Oh, young Lochinvar has come out of the west,<br /> +Of all the wide world, his steed is the best,'"<br /> +</div> + +<p>Jack quoted, apropos of nothing, as she +joined the other girls in Ruth's bedroom.</p> + +<p>Olive, Jean and Frieda were working +industriously. Over in the corner there was +a little mound that looked like a pile of snow +but was only the strings of popcorn for the +Christmas tree. Jean was fashioning an immense +silver star. Olive and Frieda were +filling boxes of white paper, decorated with +the initials, "R. G.," with homemade taffy +candy and chocolate fudge. The ranch girls +had not invited their neighbors to their +Christmas eve party, but the cowboys who +worked on their ranch were coming up to the +Lodge to wish them good luck.</p> + +<p>Jack dropped down on the floor and deliberately +began devouring the fudge from a big +China dish. "Don't work too hard, Olive," +Jack insisted, reaching up to pop a piece of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +candy into Olive's mouth. "Remember you +are not very strong yet."</p> + +<p>Olive only laughed. She was a little paler +than when she first came to the ranch in the +early autumn, but her eyes were serene and +untroubled and she looked far less timid and +shy. Since finding her mother's picture in +the possession of old Laska, Olive felt that +she was more like the other girls and the +thought that old Laska had any real claim +on her, no longer worried her.</p> + +<p>"This isn't very hard work, Jack," Olive +replied gaily. "And there is still a lot for us +to do to be ready for to-night. Just think, +this will be the first real Christmas tree I +have ever seen!"</p> + +<p>"Well, we won't have so much work to do, +Olive, if Jack eats all the candy," Jean remarked +severely. "And Jack, perhaps if +you would help Frieda and Olive, instead of +talking so much, they wouldn't have such a +lot to do."</p> + +<p>Jack flung a cotton snowball at Jean. +"Bear with me, sweet coz," she pleaded +cheerfully. "I don't know just why, girls, +but I feel so kind of happy to-day, that I suppose +I am silly. I believe all the clouds have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +passed over our benighted heads and the +Rainbow Arch of Promise is just over the +Lodge."</p> + +<p>Jean pointed scornfully to the winter landscape +outside the window.</p> + +<p>"It looks rather like we might have a +rainbow after the summer shower: don't you +think so, Olive?" she inquired. But she bent +over and crowned Jack with a wreath of silver +tinsel and went on with her work, smiling as +though she had more faith in Jack's prediction +than she cared to confess.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Jean," Jack went on, "don't you +know there is a legend that somewhere there +is a wonderful land where all the rainbows +that have ever been or ever will be, drift to +and fro, like beautiful colored flowers? Perhaps +one of these rainbows will find us to-night +in spite of the weather." Jack's face softened +at her own pretty fancy.</p> + +<p>All day the girls worked and whispered and +laughed. Ruth and Jean and Jack decorated +the great Christmas tree. The gifts were +piled up under the tree, for nothing was to be +allowed to mar the perfect whiteness of its +decorations. Only Ruth's presents were to +be given just before supper time. She insisted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +that this was absolutely necessary, or +else they would lose half their value.</p> + +<p>When Jack came into her room at about +five o'clock to get ready for the evening, she +saw what Ruth had meant. Lying on the +foot of her bed was the prettiest dress Jack +had ever owned in her life. It was very +simple, of a soft white material like crêpe, +with a lovely band of silver embroidery about +the low, square neck and around the waist +and skirt. Jean was busy in the kitchen. +But Jack saw that her dress was of delicate, +pink cashmere, the color Jean most loved.</p> + +<p>Jack slipped into her costume very quickly +and stole softly into the great closed living-room, +thinking she would find Ruth there. +She had no idea how beautiful she looked.</p> + +<p>The room was empty. The pine tree stood +in one corner, lifting its noble green branches +hung in dim festoons and covered with +myriads of small white candles. It was quite +dark. Only the fire, that never went out all +winter long at the Lodge, flickered and danced +and threw fantastic shadows over the girl +who was standing near the Christmas tree.</p> + +<p>Jack's eyes were misty as she gazed about +her. Her loves were not so very many, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +they were deep and strong. She cared for +the old ranch house more than most girls +would for a fairy palace.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Jack heard a stamping on the +porch just outside the front door and Shep's +quick bark. She ran swiftly to open it. She +supposed Jim had come up to the house earlier +than he had promised. But it was dark and +the glare of the snow for a moment blinded +her.</p> + +<p>Frank Kent held out his hand. "May I +come in, Miss Ralston?" he asked. "I +know it's late, but I have tramped all the +way over here and it's taken a long time. I +want to tell you something and I want to +say good-bye."</p> + +<p>Jack hurried Frank in near the fire. He +had been to the Lodge once since Olive was +found, but the girls had not seen or heard of +him in several days.</p> + +<p>Jack lit the candles on the mantelpiece +and then turned to smile at her guest. Frank +stared at her boyishly and then: "Gee, Miss +Ralston," he exclaimed. "If you don't mind +my saying it, you look perfectly ripping!"</p> + +<p>But Jack was regarding Frank anxiously. +He had a deep and rather unbecoming bruise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +over one eye and the other side of his face was +somewhat swollen.</p> + +<p>"What on earth is the matter with you, +Frank, Mr. Kent, I mean?" Jack demanded. +"You look like you had been in a fight." +And Jack laughed at the thought of so well-bred +a fellow as Frank Kent engaging in such +a small-boy occupation.</p> + +<p>"I have. That is what I came over to tell +you about." Frank replied. "That is, I +didn't come to tell you about the fight, but +of something that led to it. I shall not go +back to the Norton ranch again. I am +through with those people forever." Frank +dropped into a chair which Jack drew forward. +"You see, Miss Ralston, it's like this. +I have been knowing for some time that Dan +Norton, Jr., was a cad, and I have had a good +many scores to settle with him. But I didn't +know that he and his father were thieves +until to-day. I happened to be in the room +next Mr. Norton's study, when I heard Dan +and the old man talking about your ranch. +I don't say I actually hurried away, but I +wasn't going to eavesdrop. Just as I started +to clear out, however, I overheard Mr. Norton +say: 'Well, we've fixed them good and plenty,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +haven't we, Dan, Jr. Rainbow Ranch is the +same as ours! I tell you might is right in +this country, my lad.' I kind of stopped then, +Miss Jack," Frank added. "I didn't exactly +like the sound of what Mr. Norton said."</p> + +<p>Jack had come close to Frank, but her +hands were clasped behind her to hide her +impatience. "Do go on, please," she urged +breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Then Dan answered: 'You are sure right, +Father. We are going to prove that Rainbow +Ranch belongs to us a whole lot easier +than if it really did.' I heard just exactly +those words. Miss Ralston," Frank remarked, +quietly. "And I am ready to swear to them +in any court of law."</p> + +<p>"Oh-h," Jack bit her lips to hide their +trembling and a hot color flooded her face. +"What did you hear next?" she pleaded. +"Do go on."</p> + +<p>"I didn't hear anything more," Frank +answered. "I marched into their study and +told Mr. Norton and Dan exactly what I +thought of them. Then Dan and I got to +using some language and we rather broke +up the furniture for a while. Of course I +can't stay in the house of a man whom I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +know to be a rogue. But will you tell your +overseer, Mr. Colter, that I won't get too far +out of this neighborhood to appear when your +suit about the ownership of Rainbow Ranch +comes into court." Frank looked around +for his hat. "I hope you will have a very +happy Christmas," he said. He held himself +so erect, with a dignity of grace and breeding +such as Jack had rarely seen. Before Jack +realized what was happening, Frank was out +of the room.</p> + +<p>For the second time in their acquaintance, +she ran after him. This time she put her +hand on his and fairly dragged him back with +her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, please don't go. You must +stay and have Christmas at the Lodge with +us," Jack entreated. "We have plenty of +room and we would so love to have you. +Do wait here until I go and find Cousin Ruth, +I know she will be more apt to persuade you +to stay."</p> + +<p>Needless to say, Cousin Ruth was successful +and at eight o'clock, the ranch girls, Cousin +Ruth, Frank Kent, Jim Colter, Aunt Ellen, +Uncle Zack, and six bashful cowboys were +gathered about the mammoth Christmas tree.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p> + +<p>Frieda was to light the candles. She looked +like a plump little German fairy in her new +white frock, with her long braids of flaxen +hair.</p> + +<p>But Frieda could not reach up to the tall +candles on the big tree and she would not +allow either Jim or Frank to lift her up.</p> + +<p>On the largest chair in the room, Frieda +could tiptoe up to almost the tallest row of +candles. But just under a little wax figure +of the Virgin and the Christ Child, Jean had +set seven in a circle. These were the topmost +glory of the tree and Frieda's crowning +ambition and were the only candles she could +not possibly reach from her chair.</p> + +<p>The little Christmas-eve girl slipped onto +the floor, and before any of the men in the +room guessed what she was after, dragged +out from the book shelves an immense old +law book, bound in worn brown leather. +Frieda started gallantly across the room +with it. But it dropped from her small hands +and scattered yellow parchment leaves over +the floor. The back of the book ripped off +and Frieda held only the leather cover. Out of +this, from a kind of inner pocket, a folded sheet +of paper fluttered and fell at Frieda's feet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> + +<p>The company crowded to the rescue. +Blonde heads and brown heads bumped into +each other in picking up the leaves. Frieda +started to the fire with the old book cover +and the folded paper. She gave them both +a toss toward the flames, but the paper +fluttered back to her feet.</p> + +<p>Frieda laughed and picked it up again. +"This paper won't be burned up, Jack," she +exclaimed. "Let's light it in the Christmas +candles."</p> + +<p>Jack caught Frieda's hand. "May I look +at it, dear?" she asked gently.</p> + +<p>Frieda consented to have Frank lift her to +the row of lights on top of their Christmas +tree. Jim was talking to Cousin Ruth, Jean +was distributing boxes of candy, and it was +Olive who put her arm around Jack.</p> + +<p>"What is it, dear? What has happened?" +she whispered. "Are you glad or sorry over +something?" It was no wonder Olive asked. +Jack's eyes were streaming in tears, but under +them shone a kind of radiance. Her face was +white one minute and then glowed with a +beautiful rose color.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am so happy, happy, Olive!" she +cried, throwing her arms around Olive and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +forgetting the rest of the company. "See, +we have the most wonderful Christmas gift. +Frieda has found our deed to Rainbow Ranch! +I believe somehow that Father sent it to us +to-night."</p> + +<p>But Jim and Cousin Ruth and everybody +in the room had heard Jack.</p> + +<p>Jim lifted Jack up in the chair, which +Frieda had given up. She waved her wonderful +paper before her friends. The cowboys +broke into a prolonged cheer. The girls +cried a little, because they couldn't help it. +Jim suddenly looked ten years younger and +what he whispered to Cousin Ruth, no one +ever knew, but she blushed and shook her +head.</p> + +<p>"Do let's dance or do something, quick!" +Jean exclaimed, "or I simply can't bear it." +She ran over to the piano. But at this +moment sleigh bells sounded outside and a +pair of horses could be heard stamping on the +frozen ground. Then another sleigh followed +and the wide hall of Rainbow Lodge was +quickly crowded with Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, +Harry Pryor, Laura, who for once looked +friendly, and all the neighbors of the ranch +girls for miles around.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Villagers all, this frosty tide,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Let your doors swing open wide,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Though wind may follow and snow beside,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Yet draw us in by your fire to bide."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Harry Pryor sang the first verse of the old +Christmas carol alone. Before he had finished +Jean was playing the air softly on the piano +and all the guests joined in the second verse.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Here we stand in the snow and the sleet,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Blowing fingers and stamping feet,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Come from far away, you to greet,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">You by the fire and we in the street,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Bidding you joy in the morning."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"How did you know, Aunt Sallie? How +could you have come to congratulate us at +just the right moment?" Jack inquired with +a puzzled frown, as she helped Mrs. Simpson +out of her wraps. "We only found it about a +minute before."</p> + +<p>"Found what?" Mrs. Simpson demanded +curiously. But the next instant she put her +comfortable arms about Jack and hugged her +with all her might.</p> + +<p>"Of course we didn't know you had found +your deed to Rainbow Ranch, child," Aunt +Sallie exclaimed. "We came over because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +we were afraid you might not be happy this +Christmas. We wanted you to know that +we all meant to stand by you. I don't think +there is anything in this State that we have +a better right to be proud of than our ranch +girls," and Aunt Sallie choked a little with +mixed emotions.</p> + +<p>Jack laughed gaily. "You are a dear, +Aunt Sallie," she answered gratefully. "I +don't know why you should be proud of us. +But anyhow, it is lots of fun to be a Ranch +Girl."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Ranch Girls Series.</h2> + + +<p>The story of the four Ranch Girls is plainly +just beginning. Girls so entirely unlike in +temperament and ideals, as Jack, Jean, Olive +and Frieda, cannot fail to lead lives that will +develop in interest. In the second volume +in the Ranch Girls Series, which will be +entitled, "The Ranch Girls' Pot of Gold," +they have even more unusual experiences +and adventures and are brought into closer +contact with the real life of the West. It isn't +possible to tell exactly what the Ranch Girls +will do in this second book, but it is safe to +promise that it will be something even more +original and full of delightful opportunity, +than running a ranch.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Text uses both some one and someone. Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge, by +Margaret Vandercook + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RANCH GIRLS AT RAINBOW LODGE *** + +***** This file should be named 33409-h.htm or 33409-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/4/0/33409/ + +Produced by Emmy, Darleen Dove and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +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. 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