"Say, would you really, Tom?" cried Jim, delightedly.

"Sure thing. If Mr. and Mrs. Brewster approve."

John looked at his mother. "It will be dandy, Mother, if you and Dad will go, too."

"Father and I wouldn't go, John, if Tom and you will escort the girls," returned Mrs. Brewster.

"Oh, but we couldn't think of going, Mrs. Brewster, unless you chaperoned us among so many men!" exclaimed Barbara. Then when she saw Tom Latimer looking at her she modestly drooped her head.

Tom was thinking: "Of all the empty-headed vain creatures it ever was my misfortune to meet, she takes the cake!"

"That needn't trouble you, girls. If you will come on a Saturday and spend Sunday at camp with us, we will have the Boss's wife there to act as hostess. Mrs. Carew always spends Sundays at camp—unless the Boss rides down to town to visit her. Sometimes she brings the school teacher from Oak Creek, or other ladies who enjoy the novel life in a survey camp," explained Jim, enthusiastically.

"Do let's go, Anne! Can't we say yes?" said Eleanor, eagerly.

"How long will both of you boys be here?" Anne asked of John.

"We planned to wait until we hear, one way or the other, regarding the stones we sent to New York, and about the financing of Choko's Find. Perhaps Dad and Dr. Evans might even come out and look the ground over for themselves, before answering my letter," said John.

"Then we could safely arrange to go next Sunday, or the Sunday after?"

"Oh, yes, we will be home for a month, most likely."

John's voice betrayed his satisfaction that such was to be the case, and Anne smiled faintly, because she could not control her own pleasure in hearing him say so. Mrs. Brewster and Tom Latimer exchanged glances of understanding but no one else saw them.

So it was decided that if Mrs. Carew was to visit her husband over the following week-end, and the weather permitted, the young folks would form a party to ride up to Buffalo Park on Saturday. With this pleasure in view, the two boys went back to camp in the early afternoon, the distance being so far from Pebbly Pit, that it would be quite dark before they reached camp.

After they had gone, Polly and Eleanor wandered around at a loss for something to do. Being Sunday, their sports were limited to a quiet time. So they decided to visit the corrals and see Noddy and Choko, as the burros had been neglected by their riders during the past few days of the excitement over gold.

They were passing the wagon-house, when Polly caught hold of Eleanor's arm for silence. Both girls listened and distinctly heard a man speaking in dramatic tones. The voice was not recognizable, although Polly had not heard of any new hand having been hired.

"Ef Ah wasn't shore we-all'd be happy, Ah never would be h'ar askin' fur yor hand an' heart." Then there was a pause.

A low mumbling followed, and then the voice again cried:

"Ef you-all w'arn't my match, Ah'd go away and nary trouble this ranch agin. But folkses kin see we-all w'ar made fer each other. Even John says so!" Then sounded another jumble of incoherent words.

"Who under the sun is it? A couple who are in love with each other?" wondered Eleanor, aloud, as she turned to Polly.

"Whoever it is, they are behind the wagon-shed. Let's creep up to the harness loft and see who it is. There isn't another woman on the farm beside Sary, and I'm sure I saw her in the house, when we left there."

Polly led the way up the ladder to the loft, and then they crept carefully across the floor until she reached the wide loft-window. This she opened quietly and tilted the slats so they could look down in the yard behind the barn.

There sat Jeb with a few loose pages from a pamphlet in his hands. He was memorizing the words, and as he did so he mumbled them.

Every time he had mastered a certain paragraph, he would stand up, strike a pose, and declaim in an unnatural voice, to the pig-sty that was not more than twenty feet away from the sheds.

Suddenly Polly clapped a hand over her mouth and rocked back and forth. Instantly Eleanor wanted to know what the joke was.

"Oh, oh! I know now where Jeb got that paper book. It was advertised in our Farm Journal as being the most complete education on how to propose gracefully to a woman that man ever could find. I just bet Jeb sent for it, one day, when he asked me to address an envelope for him. He must be practicing to ask some Oak Creek girl to marry him."

Both girls now smothered their laughter, for the idea of simple little Jeb in love with some one was too funny for words. He seemed terribly in earnest, however, as he stood up again and declared his love, and beat his breast and pretended to tear at his hair:

"'Ef you-all refuse me Ah shall end mah wretched existence! What is life widdout love? Oh, beuchus maiden—' no, no, Ah musen't call her 'maiden' er she'll knock me down," murmured Jeb, scratching his head in perplexity.

His audience almost choked with laughter, but he suddenly brightened up again and said to himself: "Yeh, that's it! She'll like thet." Then he began again with one hand over his heart and the other tearing at the thin covering of hair on his head, "'Ef you-all refuse me Ah shall end this wretched life—' no, no! Ah shall end this wretched EXISTENCE! What is life widdout love? Oh, beau-chus widder, will you-all be mine?"

As Jeb spoke his last lines, he smirked to himself and said: "Thar now, Jeb! That'll fetch her, er John's all wrong."

Polly and Eleanor looked at each other in consternation. Who was the widow—and what had John to do with this proposal?

Jeb was placing the little paper book in his breast pocket when the girls looked out again. Then he picked up the bucket of swill and ran over to feed the pigs. His audience, up in the loft, heard him still reciting various love-thrilling lines to himself, as the pigs grunted and snorted and ate their supper. But Eleanor said they'd better get away before Jeb found them.



Polly studied her brother's face keenly, during supper, but John seemed as free from guile as any babe. So after the table was cleared, she went up to him and whispered: "Did you tell Jeb to propose to any widow you know?"

"Why?" John's eyes twinkled with fun.

"Because he was behind the shed all afternoon, reciting impassioned lines he had learned in a paper book. We heard him say that that would fetch the widow or you wasn't as wise as you seemed to be."

John laughed loudly, and merely murmured: "We ought to be on guard to-night, lest Jeb commit some folly. Better watch him, Polly, and see where he goes, eh?"

"He never goes anywhere on Sunday nights. He sits on the terrace by the crater and smokes his pipe."

"Well, he is safe there, but if you see him come by, all togged out in his church clothes, let me know and I'll see that he comes to no harm. He may be a bit off, you know," John lightly tapped his head as he spoke.

"Oh, I hope not. Jeb is such a good hand. Father would never know what to do without him. Perhaps we'd best tell father of your suspicions," cried Polly, deeply concerned.

"No, no! Don't bother father. I'll take care of Jeb. You just see that he keeps quiet, to-night, wherever he goes to smoke his pipe."

Innocent Polly then sought for Eleanor, who had been called to the kitchen by Sary. Polly found her giving a plaid ribbon and a corsage nosegay to Sary. But it developed that the maid had higher aspirations than ribbon and flowers.

"Miss Nolla, Ah see'd a figgered dress a-hangin' from the hook in yur room, one day. No one never wears it, an' Ah wuz wonderin' ef it was yur's, er Miss Bob's, er Miss Anne's?"

"Oh, that is a striped dimity that mother must have packed by mistake. It happens to be one of hers, so we hung it back in the corner till we go home again."

"Ah s'pose yur Maw woulden mind much ef she lent it to me fer to-night—eh?" hinted Sary.

"I don't suppose mother will ever think of it again, as it is last year's style, anyway. I'll take the risk of giving it to you, Sary, if you promise never to let Bob know where it went."

"Oh, Ah shore will promise, Miss Nolla! And Ah kin tell you-all Ah'll be the happiest gal in the West, to-night!" Sary said, giggling like a veritable school-girl.

Polly watched her depart with the coveted dress over her arm, then she turned to Eleanor. "All the help are going crazy, it seems to me!"

About half an hour later, Sary was seen stealing from the kitchen door, and tip-toeing over the brick pathway towards the "Second-best" hammock that always swung behind the lilac bushes. It was a nice little retreat for any one wishing to take a nap on a sultry afternoon, but Polly had never known Sary to have a weakness for swinging.

"Do you know, Nolla, if I didn't have to watch for Jeb, I'd just love to follow after Sary and see what she is up to," said Polly to Eleanor, as both girls sat alone on the porch steps.

"Jeb! Why, I saw him come from the barn all dressed up in his church clothes. He turned down the Shrubbery Walk," replied Eleanor.

"Did he have his pipe?" asked Polly, anxiously.

"No, he looked around at every step as if to make sure no one was following him."

"Dear me! I promised John I'd keep my eye on him!" cried Polly, distressed beyond words.

"What's the matter? I can show you where he went," said Eleanor, comfortingly.

So she led Polly to the place where Jeb had left the road and turned down to the shrubbery walk. The two girls walked over the soft sod that gave forth no sound, and quite suddenly came upon a scene that caused Eleanor to crush her handkerchief into her mouth to choke her laughter, while Polly stood speechless.

Sary sat in the hammock, one foot used to propel herself gently back and forth. The newly-acquired striped dress was such a tight fit for her rubicund form, that it cracked ominously every time the wearer took a deep breath. But the short-coming of the two fronts over her ample bosom was camouflaged with the plaid ribbon and many pins. The corsage bouquet was tucked high under her chin where it would show most.

It was not very dark as yet, so the girls could see how dreadfully white Sary seemed to be, and her lips were startlingly crimson. Suddenly Eleanor guessed the truth.

"She's gone and used Bob's powder and rouge! Oh, how funny!"

Then, before either one of the accidental eaves-droppers could say another word, Sary perked her head sideways, like a hen does when it hears a strange sound. She quickly frizzed up her hair by ruffing it backwards, and patted the ribbon on her waist-front, then gently used her foot again to propel the hammock back and forth.

Gradually it dawned upon Polly and Eleanor what all this meant! They could see Jeb coming from behind the lilac bushes, some ten feet away from the swinger. He seemed ill at ease, and loosened his stiff collar, pulled down his vest, and cleared his throat several times.

"Oh, Poll! He's going to propose to the 'widder'!" whispered Eleanor, burying her face in Polly's back to stop the spasm of laughter.

Polly was too hypnotized to reply, or move, and Jeb soon was heard to say: "Sary, Ah cum 'cuz you-all invited me to be compny t'night."

"So Ah did, Jeb. Won't you-all sit in th' hammick beside me?" came from Sary, coyly.

"It broke thru, last season, Sary, an Ah mended it. But Ah ain't shore it'll hol' enny more'n you." However, Jeb moved two or three feet nearer the hammock.

"It's a fine evenin', Jeb," suggested Sary, as seriously as if the weather was the subject uppermost in her mind, just then.

Jeb gazed up and around as if to verify Sary's statement, then admitted, slowly: "Yeh, it 'pears to be fine."

Silence reigned for several moments, then Sary said very sweetly (Eleanor whispered to Polly that she must have had a mouthful of honey), "Ah shore am glad to see you, Jeb. Won't you-all sit down on this stool?"

The girls then saw that Sary had provided the three-legged milk-stool for her visitor. But it was too close to Sary for Jeb's peace of mind. He reached out very warily and caught hold of one leg of the stool, and pulled it towards him. Then he sat gingerly on the edge of it.

But Sary was determined to carry off a captive that night, or waste all of her ammunition in the attempt.

"Ah jes' loves to swing, but Ah cain't tech the ground easy when Ah'm sittin' back. Would you-all mind swingin' me, Jeb?"

Jeb got up slowly from his stool and took hold of the upper end strands of the hammock. He pulled it back and forth a few times, while Sary smiled alluringly up at him. Then he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"This world was made fur love. Oh, what woul' arth be widdout de flowers of love to parfume our way?" Jeb coughed.

Now this was just the sort of romance Sary had always dreamed of but never heard before, and she sighed heavily as her visitor coughed. If Jeb needed encouragement, she was not the one to disappoint him!

He gave the hammock a strong tug as he began another line. Sary had to catch hold of the edges to prevent herself from being thrown backward.

"Man wuz not made to live alone. Th' Good Book says so. What so glorious ez a sweet bride waitin' t' welcome a man after a hard day's labor? What man is thar what woulden give his wealth of all Crows-see-us fer love?"

Jeb pronounced the unfamiliar word very carefully, but Sary had never heard of Croesus, so it mattered not how Jeb said it. But Polly and Eleanor were clasping each other tightly now, to keep from making a sound that would ruin the entertainment.

Again Jeb cleared his throat with difficulty and pulled at the hammock as if he was trying to drag a whale from the deep sea. Sary uttered no complaint, however, even though her neck almost snapped at each sudden jerk. She was wise enough to realize that the momentous time had come for Jeb. He might never again summon courage, if he failed to-night!

Without further warning, then, Jeb began his memorized lines, and as he progressed with the "love sonnet" he unconsciously swung the hammock higher and higher.

"Ef Ah wuzn't shore we-all w'ar made fur each other Ah wooden be ha'r beggin' fur yur heart an' hand."

A long and mighty pull on the hammock almost landed Sary out in the grass, but she clung like a vise to the hempen ropes.

"Enny one kin see we-all w'ar made fur each other, oh darlin' of mah heart! Soul of mah soul!" Jeb coughed violently as he remembered he was two paragraphs ahead in his speech. Now he couldn't remember what went just before that "soul of my soul!" but he knew the tragic part to perfection, so he skipped all that went before and ended with:

"Ef you-all refuse me, Ah shall end this wretched existence in life widdout love! Oh, beauchus maiden" (strangling as he realized he should have said "widder" and now utterly confounded, he said): "Oh, Sary! be mah widder widdout mah love—NO, Sary, be mah wife widdout my widder. Oh, Sary, Ah don't know what Ah——"

In his frenzy, Jeb yanked on the hammock so manfully that the mended strands suddenly sundered and Sary was unexpectedly thrown into her suitor's arms.

Such an unforeseen accident, however, found Sary ready with presence of mind to meet the emergency. She flung her powerful arms about Jeb's slender form and smacked him heartily on the lips. The dramatic lover then trembled and gasped for breath. How to get away safely was all he could think of. But Sary, as tenacious in her hold as "ivy on the sturdy oak," managed to calm her lover's fears.

"Oh, Jeb! What a wooer you-all do make! Ah never dreamed a man could talk so wonderful!" Sary sighed and placed her head down upon Jeb's shoulder.

Now had Jeb accepted this sweet praise and been satisfied therewith, his wooing need not have ended so abruptly, but manlike, he wanted to hear added words of flattery about himself, so he sat down on the three-legged stool, and drew the over-willing Sary upon his knee.

"Ah forgot to say half what is in mah soul, Sary," he began, as his lines came back to him. "Oh, Ah must tell you-all what joy you fill me wid, when you consent to listen to mah cause——"

In leaning back to emphasize his speech with an out-flung arm, Jeb lost his balance, and the stool being treacherous on its three legs, promptly turned over and sent both lovers from ecstasy down to earth. As Sary and Jeb managed to get upon their feet, they thought they heard sounds of smothered laughter and scampering feet over the brick walk, but when they got from behind the lilac bushes to reconnoiter, everything between the kitchen and the Shrubbery Walk was silent as the tomb.



CHAPTER X

A TRIP TO BUFFALO PARK

Word was received through Jeb, who met Jake at Oak Creek, that Mrs. Carew would spend the week-end at Camp to welcome the party from the ranch; so the young folks at Pebbly Pit eagerly prepared for the trip to Buffalo Park. The panniers were packed with luncheon for the riders, besides the cakes and home-made pies which Mrs. Brewster sent to the boys in camp.

At dawn on Saturday morning, the party started, Mrs. Brewster watching them ride down the trail until they disappeared back of Rainbow Cliffs. Then she went back to attend to her household duties.

Polly rode Noddy as usual, and Eleanor had Choko. The other four members of the party rode horses, but one extra burro, Nigger, was taken to carry the luggage. The trail from Bear Forks across the mountain-side was very rough, being seldom used; most riders, going to Buffalo Park, took the old worn trail that ran from Silver Creek.

Finally, the going was found to be so steep that it was deemed best to attach the pack-burro to John's horse, by means of a rope. This would necessitate the burro following after John's horse instead of wandering away in the maze of forest trees.

But sometimes, these little burros get stubborn when they are made to follow in the rear of a horse, and it was so with Nigger. He acted like a sulky child, and made the girls laugh at his contrary behavior. He seemed to have lost all individual ambition, and made John's horse drag him at the unusually hard places in the trail.

They had been climbing steadily for two hours and hoped soon to reach the clearer trail that ran direct to Buffalo Park. But the trees grew so closely together, now, that they offered obstructions in every direction the horses went. Sometimes it was even necessary for the riders to dismount and follow after the horses to eliminate the extra width caused by stirrups and legs.

Nigger's panniers were packed with food, cooking utensils to use while on the trail, and rifles. This bulky roll projected over a foot on either side of him, often creating a "blockade" in the narrow going between trees.

John's horse, being unable to read blazes as easily as his rider could, would choose the wrong turn now and then, sulkily followed by Nigger. Then the horse would come to a spot impossible to pass through and would decide to back out. Nigger, with his clumsy pack and grouchy manner, stood and fairly laughed at such times. Polly and Eleanor enjoyed these funny experiences thoroughly; but John felt annoyed, as he wished to appear his best before Anne, and how can a young gallant impress his lady-love favorably when his horse is making a fool of itself?

While Nigger and Snowball (John's horse was white) were engaged in disentangling themselves from one of these snarls, the other riders went ahead. Finding John was not immediately behind, they halted and turned to watch him get his two steeds straightened out and going again.

All was serene once more and Snowball started briskly up the trail, but unfortunately, she went about a tree on one side of the trail while Nigger insisted upon choosing the other side. Both were suddenly yanked up when the tie-rope tautened about the tree, so that John was almost thrown out of the saddle. Neither beast would give in but tugged stubbornly to make the other waive his right of way, until finally, John had to jump down again, and compel Snowball to walk back and around the tree on the right side, where the burro waited.

Nigger stood with neck stretched and his mouth half-open, while his eyes gleamed impishly. John roared at the expression on the burro's face, as true to a malicious grin as ever a human could produce it. Then they resumed the climb.

But Nigger had found a new way to tantalize Snowball. He would step upon a stone and allow it to trip him. This would make his pack strike the tree on the side he rolled. Then the tree, resisting the impact, would slew him back again. Naturally, every time he performed this way, Snowball was unceremoniously yanked up too, and this sudden stopping interfered with John's conversation with Anne.

After Polly had laughed herself weak over Nigger's clever performances, she called to John. "No use! You'll have to give Nig his freedom! He'll land Snowball in kingdom come if you keep him tied."

So wise little Nigger was freed once more, and thereafter he walked as circumspectly as any good burro should. But the going was better, too, with the trail running through miles and miles of dark green forests, patterned here and there with golden stretches of mesa and parks.

"Are you sure you know the trail, Polly?" asked John, as he gazed about at the unfamiliar path.

"Oh, yes, I've gone this way lots of times when Mr. Montresor lived in the cabin where Carew's men are now camping."

"Well, if it is much farther, then I say we'd best halt for something to eat."

"I will second that motion whether it is far or near. We had best have a bite, as we will have to wait for the crew's dinner-time when we arrive in camp," added Tom Latimer.

So the riders dismounted and hastily prepared a luncheon. When they were ready to proceed on the way, Nigger found his pack much lighter than before, so he, too, was delighted to have had the humans stop for lunch.

It was past noon before the visitors reached Carew's Camp, but once there, they were given a hearty welcome by every one. Cookee had been mixing and stirring viands ever since the breakfast had been cleared away, and now he was ready to smile satisfactorily at results, for he was going to give these guests a rare meal that day.

Mrs. Carew was a Chicago lady and, for once, Barbara was happy, as she found her hostess knew several people that the Maynards felt were exalted enough to be classed "in their set."

As soon as their section master gave them the afternoon's vacation, Jim Latimer and Kenneth appropriated Polly and Eleanor, and the four started off on fresh horses from the corral, for an excursion.

Jim wanted to ride to one of the peaks where they had surveyed that week, and show the girls the far-off desert that stretched for miles and miles between Buffalo Park and the Lincoln Memorial Highway.

The trail was well defined, as the crew had traveled it twice a day that week, and had worn down cactus and sage-brush.

The four finally reached the pinnacle where the gray expanse of sand could be seen stretching out to meet the blue sky on the horizon, and Jim laughingly remarked: "Ken and I came near finding a sandy grave there the other day."

"How?" eagerly asked the girls.

"Why, we were sent with our superior, to tie up a line at the edge of the desert down there, and having done so, one of the crew saw a fine little bit of water and a few trees growing about it, not more than half-a-mile from where we were working.

"We concluded it would make an admirable place to rest and have lunch, and give the horses a good drink, too, at the same time. So we all started over the sand to enjoy the unusual oasis.

"Well, we kept on going and going, but the darn old oasis seemed as far away as ever. Suddenly, I thought I was going queer in my head, because it slowly vanished like mist. I rubbed my eyes and called on Ken to verify the fact. Then you should have heard the men swear! Phew!"

Both boys laughed as they recalled the irritation of the men who found they had been riding for a mirage—And lunch farther off than ever.

"However, we saw a gigantic bowlder of lava and sand rear its head from the desert a short distance off, so we decided to make for that and see if there was a crevice in its side where we might find shelter from the baking sun.

"We left the horses hobbled while we scrambled up its sides to look for any projection that would cast a shadow for us.

"The men separated when we started to climb, but we all met at the top without having found any shade. The wind that blew across the desert, was comparatively cool, however, so we sat on the uncomfortable spikes of lava and planned where we might have something to eat.

"Ken turned to speak to me, and a great mass of shale broke away from his feet and rolled down the steep sides of the crag. But he managed to catch himself from slipping. Then we began breaking off fragments of shale and tried to see who could throw it the farthest out on the desert. We laid wagers, and one of the party said he would go down, after a bit, and mark the ones that were prize-winners. That made us laugh as no one would ever be able to find any individual chunk of shale out on that wild place.

"The breeze that had been blowing rather too strong, now became stronger, and then Prang, who was in charge of us, that day, shaded his eyes with a hand and stared off at the horizon. We all gazed in the same direction, but we were not experienced enough to know what it was he saw.

"'My God, boys! slide down this crag as fast as you can—that's a storm blowing across the sands. It will hit us in a few moments. Grab the horses or they'll bolt and we'll all be lost on the desert!'"

"Gee! didn't we get down those awful sides. Ken slid more than half-way down, then he lost his grasp on the side. His back and arms are all scraped now, from the way he rolled the rest of the way."

The girls sympathized with Ken, but he laughed away the thought that he had been too tender to stand such a test.

"Well, most of us got down and had caught our horses before the sand-storm struck us, but two of our crowd had to stumble through the terrific storm that blinded them. Had we not kept on calling and shouting to direct them, they would have wandered away and been buried.

"It was an awful experience, but now that it is over, I'm glad we had it. I will have something to brag about when I'm at college, this Fall."

Ken laughed. "I'd rather not brag than to go through such a hair-raising time again."

"Do both of you boys intend going to college?" asked Eleanor.

"Yes; we've gone through school together since we were little shavers. And that's quite a record for boys in New York, where folks are always moving from one district to another," replied Jim.

"I believe your brother Tom said you were going to Yale?" continued Eleanor.

"We will, if we pass the tests. I'm sure Ken will, but I'm not so sure of myself."

"Now—don't belittle yourself. You know you will pass," added Kenneth.

"I'm sorry you both will be away from home, because Polly and I expect to attend school in New York this Winter," remarked Eleanor.

"Me? School in New York?" cried Polly, astonished.

"Why, yes, of course! Didn't you know what was in my mind when I decided I would like to go to New York with Anne Stewart?"

"But that doesn't mean I'm going there!" exclaimed Polly.

"Of course you are. I don't want to go without you, so I shall scheme to win your folks over to my way of thinking."

"Well, all I can say, is this: If you win them over to see how important it is for me to go to school in New York, you are a wizard—that's all!" declared Polly, laughingly.

"Your laugh sounds dubious, but I'll show you, pretty soon."

"Now, if you two girls should find yourselves in New York, we will have our folks meet you and pilot you through the wilderness. It's worse than out here on the mountains, you know," laughed Jim.

"In case I don't pass for college, I won't mind so much, as long as you girls will be in the city to console me," added Kenneth, gallantly.

They laughed. "We won't waste much time consoling any one, I can tell you," added Polly.

"No; Polly and I are going to study some profession, you know, and begin business as soon as we complete our education."

"What?" exclaimed Jim, surprised to hear such young girls plan for a business life.

"Yep! Polly is just daffy over interior decorating, and since she showed me all her magazines and other books on it, I am crazy about it, too."

"But you don't have to study that!" declared Kenneth.

"That shows how little a man knows about it. Why, not only must a decorator—a real one, we mean—know all about periods in architecture and furnishings of all kinds, but she must know at a glance, whether an object is genuine antique or a counterfeit," explained Eleanor, glad to impress her male friends with her understanding of what is essentially a woman's profession.

"Besides that," added Polly, "a good interior decorator must know the name of a painter of pictures,—whether an old master or a modern artist. Not an engraving or etching shown but the good decorator ought to be able to say who did it, and name its date.

"There are lots of counterfeit antique china sold to-day, but a good decorator can tell instantly whether it is real antique or not.

"Besides china and pictures, one must be able to name a rug—its qualities and value, at a glance. As for draperies and wall-hangings, well! It all has to be thoroughly learned," said Polly.

"I always thought a man took up interior decorating just because he happened to have been an upholsterer or fresco painter. I never knew there was any studying to be done, first," said Jim.

"You didn't, eh! Well then, let me tell you this much; Polly and I intend to use our money from the mine, to put us both through school in New York. Any other city would do, I suppose, only Anne Stewart will be there, and I never can study under any one else! So I have to attend class in New York," Eleanor spoke with the greatest assurance that all she said had already been agreed to by Polly's family.

"Then when Polly and I have had a year or two with Anne, we will take a special course in some one of the best schools on the subject. This course finished, we propose going to Europe to study Italian, French, Spanish, and English periods and styles. If we have an extra year or so, to spare, we might go to Japan and Egypt, as I just adore those two lands."

"W-h-y! Eleanor! You never mentioned a word of this to me before! Who told you we could go?" gasped Polly.

Eleanor laughed merrily. "You big innocent! Why, I just told you myself—that we were going abroad."

"If I ever manage to break away from Pebbly Pit after the awful speech I made recently, I'll be lucky, and let New York or Europe alone!" laughed Polly.

"You never would have had gumption to speak as you did, Polly, if it hadn't been for my training you. This is what I have done to you—you are growing to be more independent of others."

Eleanor smiled self-complacently at Polly, but the latter retorted: "I owe you nothing on an exchange, Nolla, because you must admit that I have filled you up with ideas you never dreamed of before you came to the ranch!"

"Shake, old girl!" laughed Eleanor, holding out her hand.

"But about New York—girls. It would be great if you can fix it. Ken and I will be home every holiday, and perhaps we can run down from New Haven, now and then, over Sundays," remarked Jim, eagerly.

Eleanor held up an assuring hand, as she nodded her wise little head knowingly and said: "Leave it to Nolla, boys!"

They laughed and agreed that there was no one else that could arrange affairs any better!

Polly sat mute, for she wondered if it ever would come true—what Eleanor had planned about Europe. In her wildest fancies she had never dared allow her thought to outline such possibilities. But here was a harum-scarum friend who seemed to get everything she wanted by merely saying, "We must have it, you know!"

"I guess we'd better be starting back to camp," suggested Kenneth, looking up at the sun.

"Yes, it will take us fully an hour, riding down," agreed Jim.

So they helped the girls into their saddles, and soon all four were having a good time going back to Buffalo Park.



CHAPTER XI

A WILD-WEST COUNTY FAIR

That same night while at supper, Mrs. Carew asked her guests if they had ever visited one of the western celebrations.

"Polly says she has, but we have never seen one," replied Anne, eagerly.

"Well, Oak Creek is going to have its annual fair, or celebration, two weeks from Monday. It generally lasts for three days, and they have all sorts of stunts there. You-all must be sure to go."

"The Boss says we can have a day off and go, too!" declared Jim.

"I wish it would happen to come on the day you girls go," added Kenneth, anxiously.

"We'll try and plan it that way. Maybe we will go to each day's show," quickly said Eleanor.

"Maybe you can find out from Mrs. Carew what day her husband thinks we can have," ventured Jim, in a whisper.

Eleanor nodded; then she turned to John and told him what they wanted to know from Mrs. Carew.

Thus it was learned that the survey Crew was to be given Tuesday and Wednesday—as it would take almost half a day to travel to Oak Creek, and another half day to get back to camp. The boys gave a wild hurrah when they heard this good news, and immediately planned to start from camp directly after midnight Monday so as to enjoy a full day at the fair.

After good-bys were said, and the Pebbly Pit party were ready to start on the homeward trail, Jim whispered to Polly and Eleanor, "Now don't forget! Ken and I have a date with you two at the Fair, Tuesday and Wednesday."

And the girls laughingly promised to make a note in their social calendar book.

The two weeks intervening between the visit to Buffalo Park, and the celebration at Oak Creek, passed rapidly, for John and Tom had a new excursion planned for each day. Of course, Polly and Eleanor were members of these picnics, so they almost forgot about the fair until a day, or so, before the time.

"We-all attend the fair, you know, and take our camp outfit with us," said Mr. Brewster, at supper on Sunday evening.

"Aren't there any restaurants where we can dine?" asked Barbara.

"Well, there is Snake-Bill's place where you get hash piled up with your pie and odds or ends, all on an inch-thick dish. Then there is the Rocky Mountain Cafie—as every one calls it,—but ladies are not welcome, there. Neither of these places will appeal to you girls, Ah'm sure," explained Sam Brewster.

"Oh, no! They have no idea of what it is like, Sam," declared Mrs. Brewster, holding up both hands in horror at the very idea.

"Will we start early in the morning?" now asked Eleanor, wondering if they would be on time to keep their engagements.

"Oh, we will leave here about one or two o'clock," replied Mr. Brewster, nonchalantly.

"One or two!" cried Barbara, aghast, thinking he meant A. M.

"Yes, then we will arrive about four or five. By the time we have the tents pitched and everything in tip-top working order, it will be suppertime. There won't be so much going on the first night, you know, but we will be there for Tuesday's early games."

"Oh, my goodness! You don't mean we shall camp over night?" exclaimed Barbara.

"Of course! We could never travel back and forth each day, as it is a long ride and tough roads for the horses to pull a heavy ranch-wagon," returned Mr. Brewster.

"I don't see why you won't have automobiles out here! It would not cost much to have a Ford, or some other cheap affair, but the convenience and time you'd save—my!" said Barbara.

"An auto! Can you see us driving a car over such awful roads as there are for miles around Oak Creek? To say nothing of the wild trails that go to Pebbly Pit and other far-off ranches," said John.

"Whenever there is a rain, or in winter, the roads are impassable, you know, Bob," added Mrs. Brewster. "I'd love to have a car just for fun, but there is no pleasure in riding it around the farm where I know every foot of ground. And excepting on our own land, there are no decent roads."

"I never thought of that!" admitted Barbara.

"So we make the best of things, and ride to the fair in a wagon that will hold a village of people," concluded Polly.

"I think it will be heaps of fun to camp right in town where crowds of other folks are camping," said Eleanor, giggling.

"It is. You never know who your next-door neighbor is going to be," laughed Polly. "Once, we camped right next to a horse-thief who was wanted by the sheriff. My, but we had an exciting time when he crawled into mother's bed and hid!"

"Polly! You forgot to say that this happened while we were at the fair and he was driven from his own tent," hastily added Mrs. Brewster, while the others laughed heartily at Polly's omission.

At these yearly events, every workhand on a ranch went to the fair, whether the cattle starved or not. But with Mr. Brewster's help, it was so planned that half of them went from Monday morning until Tuesday noon, and then the other half went from Tuesday noon until Wednesday night. In this way each side had plenty of time to spend their hoardings, and to drink all the "Sure Death" whisky that could be had in Oak Creek.

The great ranch-wagon rumbled away Monday noon, and a gay party it carried, too. The tents were tightly rolled and tied to the sides, while rolls of bedding and hampers of food were stacked under the high front seat. Hard wooden seats were clamped to each side for the travelers to sit upon.

Tom Latimer and John kept every one laughing, so that no one complained of the uncomfortable seats that seemed to grow harder the nearer the travelers came to Oak Creek.

Then the party drew near their objective. But such a different Oak Creek from its usual sleepy appearance! The entire countryside, outside of the settlement proper, was dotted with canvas tents, and campers were running back and forth. Just to the right of the town stood a vast tent, like a circus canvas; and in line with it were several smaller ones.

"That larger one is where all the exhibits are shown and where the contests take place, such as eating pan-cakes, shoveling coal, testing mining tools, and other tame games," explained John.

"Do they bust the bronchos there, too?" asked Eleanor.

"No, that, and the trick riding, is done out in the ring," replied Mr. Brewster.

While the men pitched the tents and carried the folding cots from the wagon, Sary unpacked her meager cooking outfit, and Mrs. Brewster arranged the hampers in a safe place in her tent. Eleanor and Polly stood watching the crowds of incoming ranchers drive by, all on the lookout for a good camping-site.

"I do hope the boys from Buffalo Park will be in time to find a place near us," whispered Polly.

"Yes, but it looks now, as if there wouldn't be an inch of room left after to-night," returned Eleanor.

Mr. Brewster then joined them. "Well, girls, want to go with me to have a look over the fair-grounds? To-morrow you will be escorted by younger chaps, I suppose; but they won't be able to explain things any better than I can."

"Oh yes, Daddy! Let's go," cried Polly, eagerly.

As it was all new to Eleanor, she also wanted to go, so the three found a way between the tents that had sprung up, since they drove in from the trail and had selected their own site.

Every one was merry and good-natured, and many a joke was exchanged between people who might be master and servant at home, but at the Celebration, they all were equals.

Mr. Brewster pointed out where the races would take place, and where the wild horse-breaking generally was held. He told Eleanor that a purse of five hundred dollars was always made up by collections, and given to the man who was able to tame the worst outlaw horse of the year.

Then the girls were taken to the booths where refreshments were served. Sam Brewster ordered three ice-cream cones and three sodas. He also bought two boxes of candy for the girls.

"Let's have ice-cream sodas instead of soda and cones," suggested Eleanor.

"They can't mix ice-cream sodas, out here," explained Polly. "So we buy cones and mix our own when we want a New York drink."

Eleanor laughed. "Isn't that funny! It's just as easy!"

So they emptied their cones into their soda water and stirred the drink with a spoon. But Eleanor learned that the western people would do certain things their way, and no one could convince them that it was much easier to accomplish the task a different way.

The cots were hard as rocks but every one fell asleep without complaints that night, and in the morning the mad babel of sounds roused the campers without alarm clocks. As Tuesday was a great day at the fair, no time was lost by stealing an extra wink. Breakfast out of the way, the entire party started for the Fair Grounds.

"I wonder where the boys are?" whispered Polly.

"We'll never find them in this mob," returned Eleanor.

"They said we were to meet at the Bridal Contest—but where is that?" wondered Polly.

"Let's ask Tom Latimer; we'll tell him Jim is going to be there at ten o'clock."

Tom heard the girls and laughed: "But why at the Bridal Contest tent? Why not at the coal-heaving contest?"

"Perhaps the boys thought there wouldn't be such a crowd at the Bridal," ventured Polly, guilelessly.

Tom and Eleanor laughed, and the former said: "Well, I'll see that you two get there in ample time for the Bridal."

Long before ten o'clock, John and Anne had disappeared, and that left Tom to the sweet mercy of Barbara. He clung desperately to Polly and Eleanor until it was time to take them to the Bridal Contest, and then he begged Mrs. Brewster to take care of Barbara while he was absent with the girls.

Mrs. Brewster understood that Tom did not care for the young lady's company, and she said in a low tone: "I would feel easier if I thought those four young people had a sensible head to look after them in this great multitude, Tom."

Tom looked at her, but she seemed innocent of any hidden meaning; so he replied fervently: "If you will tell Polly this, I will be only too happy to be the 'head' they need."

So Tom really acted as "Official Guide" that day and, incidentally, paid all the bills for the young celebrators. This suited Jim and Kenneth, all right, as they were puzzling how to make a big splash in the puddle before these two girls, and yet escape bankruptcy.

The Bridal Contest was a strange sight. Any couple who wanted to marry in haste, could secure a special license at this booth and be married forthwith. And to every pair so married, the managers of the fair presented a twenty-dollar gold piece, that more than defrayed the costs of the ceremony. To say the Bridal Booth was a failure, would be rank envy and jealousy on the part of any single cow-boy or woman that attended the fair—and failed in securing a mate.

The girls watched while three pairs were married, and in each case, the bride was a stranger in Oak Creek, while the groom was a newly-fledged rancher who needed a housekeeper worse than he needed his freedom.

As the other contests were scheduled for eleven, the four young people, following after their Official Guide, went the rounds. Not one sight missed them that day, and they turned weary bodies towards the camp that night, thinking of but one thing—the cot-beds that awaited them.

Wednesday was the day when the races took place. Not only the broncho busting, but horse-racing and other events of the kind. A novelty was offered this year, by having several Nebraska cow-boys race on steers. The people for twenty miles around Oak Creek, had seen bull fights, wild steer breaking, and all sorts of horse-racing, but never had they witnessed a steer race.

It proved very exciting, as the men who rode the animals were gayly trapped out and made a great noise when the race started. Their shouting and wildly waving hats, added no little to the frenzy of the steers. One animal tripped and threw his rider, and another balked outright and began to stampede. Finding he could not dislodge the encumbrance that clung to his back, he suddenly threw himself and rolled.

Every one screamed, but the rider was alert and the moment the steer touched the earth, he was up on his feet, bowing and smiling. A wild cheering greeted him, but he had no claim to the prize, as that went to the rider who won the race.

Polly and Eleanor became well-acquainted with Jim and Kenneth during those two days at the fair, and when it was time to say good-by, the boys felt as if they were losing two old chums.

"We have to ride across the desert to-morrow, you know," explained Jim, regretfully.

"That's so! where will you work next?" asked Tom.

"From Rabbitt's Ear Inn to the Highway," said Kenneth.

"And when will you be back again? When can you come to Pebbly Pit again to visit us?" asked Eleanor.

"We may not be there again this summer, as our work now leads away from this section. In fact, the Boss says, if the cold does not come too early to interfere, he wants to finish his survey all along the other side of the desert, this year," explained Kenneth.

"Oh pshaw! then we won't have any more good times," said Eleanor, poutingly.

"But we will when we all meet in New York," reminded Jim.

Tom looked from one to the other, for here was news!

"Never mind that, Tom—it's a secret with us!" laughed Eleanor.

"I'm sure it must be, for John never said a word about it to me. And if you girls were going with Anne Stewart, he would have told me," replied Tom.

"You know the old adage, 'Plans of mice and men go astray,' but it did not say 'Plans of girls and mice.' So my plan will come out fine, you-all wait and see!"

"Yes, I reckon we will wait!" laughed Polly, incredulously.



CHAPTER XII

NOLLA'S PLANS DEVELOP

The days passed joyously at Pebbly Pit, until John and Tom declared they must return to their work beyond Denver. They had been postponing their departure, because John had confided to his chum, that Anne was waiting to hear definitely about the school in New York City, and upon her going there depended many other important things.

Tom smiled knowingly to himself, as he was sure one of the "many things" to John was his proposal to Anne. Every one felt more or less interested in the expectant letter, and when it finally arrived, Anne had a circle of anxious friends waiting to hear the verdict.

"Well, I've been accepted and I am to report at the address in New York on September twenty-fifth," said Anne, hastily scanning the short note.

"Hurrah! That means we go with you!" shouted Eleanor, catching hold of Anne and dancing her about.

Polly looked very glum. "Anne, how does your going effect my school plans?"

"You can talk about school some other time, Poll, but Tom and I have to start back to camp to-morrow, and I want to know from Anne just how her going effects me?" demanded John, looking her in the eyes.

Anne smiled bravely back at him and said: "Just what I told you. I must help Paul complete his college course, then I will be free to sign other agreements."

"Meanwhile, I am to go on plodding through classes and camp without knowing whether or not I am ever going to be rewarded!" grumbled John, so discouraged that every one felt sorry for him.

"One doesn't plod through studies or work, for mere reward. Polly says she wants to study for the love of it, and Eleanor wants to go into business for the love of that! It is the only way one can succeed," ventured Mrs. Brewster, more to fill up an embarrassing gap in the conversation than for anything else.

John turned sullenly and stamped away. He continued down the trail to the Cliffs and was soon lost to sight. The girls then coaxed Anne to come away with them as they had a plan to ask her about.

Mrs. Brewster waited until every one was gone his or her way, then she ran after her son. No one knows what was said or done, then or during the day but that night, as they all sat at supper, John stood up and smiled.

Jeb was just passing with a basket of newly laid eggs, and Sary was leaning over Mr. Brewster's back with a deep dish of milk-toast that she expected to place before him. John coughed significantly, and Sary stopped to listen.

"I'm going to announce good news to you-all, to-night. I finally persuaded Anne to promise to be my wife, someday. So she goes to New York City as my fiancee, and I will study hard and do everything possible to be worthy of her, for she is a brave girl!"

Sam Brewster half arose to congratulate the two young people, but Sary's dish was in the way. He bumped his head and the dish slid from her hands.

Sary threw up both hands in dismay—there was the milk-toast spattered all over the ground! But a laugh from her mistress caused her to look in the direction the family-group were gazing. She saw Jeb standing as if rooted to the grass, his lower jaw sagging as he frowned at a basket of broken eggs upon the ground.

Sary threw her inspiration into the double breach caused by maid and man. "Thar goes th' supper an' them eggs, but tush! Trifles don't count none when a man hez sech fine news ez John an' Jeb hes. Come right over here, Jeb, an' spring yur secret now that John hes split his'n to the fam'ly!"

Jeb scuffled his feet and sheepishly hung his head. One foot unconsciously stirred the yolks of the broken eggs. But Sary was not a woman to stand for such shyness when it cast reflections on her ardent manner in which she described how Jeb rose to the bait temptingly hung before his very nose.

She forgot milk-toast and all else in this final bout with her unwilling lover. She hurried over and nudged him sharply in the ribs, then whispered in a stage tone:

"G'wan now, Jeb! Spruce up an' tell 'em like-ez-how this air goin' to be a double trick! John an' Miss Anne, me an' you—see!"

Polly and Eleanor laughed appreciatively, and Mrs. Brewster smiled for she had had suspicions. But Sam Brewster was so amazed, that he leaned back in his chair and puffed for breath. To think that Jeb could ever have summoned enough courage to propose to a woman—but let that woman be an Amazon like Sary, was past his comprehension!

He could not get over it, and later, his wife confided: "I actually believe that Sary made this match for herself. Jeb could never have stood the strain of making love, had not Sary met him more than half-way."

That evening when John and Anne were talking confidentially about the future, John said: "Mother, I haven't a ring for Anne and I want her to have it before she goes to New York, so I propose going to Denver and buy it for her before I go back to work."

"And I thought, Mrs. Brewster, that it would be a good plan to see an agent about renting our house for a year or two. If mother and I live in New York, there is no sense in closing the place when we can rent it for enough to pay taxes and upkeep."

"I think you are perfectly right there, Anne, and the sooner you place it in good hands, the better. When did you think of running up to town?" said Mrs. Brewster.

"Well, you see, mother, Tom and I should have joined our men long ago, but one thing or another kept us on here. Now that all is settled for two years at least, I want to get away and plunge into work so I will be ready for Anne when she comes back," said John.

Mrs. Brewster smiled. "Will you go to Denver to-day?"

"To-night! Why, it is eight o'clock! But I could take the noon train when it goes back from Oak Creek, and Anne might go with me."

"That's what I thought you could do, but your evident impatience made me wonder if you had an air-route you could travel by."

John laughed, and Anne placed her arm about her future mother-in-law. Then the talk veered to Polly and her future education. John and his fiancee had a hard task in convincing Mrs. Brewster that it was best for Polly to accompany the Stewarts to New York, to school; but finally, when all three returned to the house, a resigned look was upon Mrs. Brewster's face. But not a word was said at that time.

The next morning, every member of the family accompanied John and Anne to Oak Creek, and gave them a merry send-off to Denver.

"It's only for a few days, you big sillies!" laughed Anne, as she leaned from the little car-window to answer many questions from her friends on the platform.

"True, but think of all that can happen in a few days! Jeb may jilt Sary and elope with Barbara—I've seen her casting jealous eyes at Sary, lately! Then Tom Latimer may suddenly find he is in love with——" but Barbara choked further words from Eleanor at this point, by shaking her viciously from the rear.

The others had to laugh at Eleanor's teasing, but her sister was furious. "I simply will not stand this treatment, so now! You can act like fools and farmers, but I am a lady!"

So saying, Barbara wheeled and marched defiantly over to the box-car station. She entered and remained there until the train had disappeared around the bend. Then she came forth with a victorious look upon her face. No one asked her what caused the change of expression, and soon the incident was forgotten for the day.

Tom Latimer was unusually quiet on the homeward drive, and when he had assisted Eleanor to alight from the great wagon, he whispered for her ears alone: "Who were you going to have me propose to, Nolla?"

She sent him a mischievous look and whispered back "Polly."

He laughed softly and pinched her arm, but she noted that the rich red color flushed his face suddenly, and she wondered, precociously, whether she had accidentally touched upon a secret spot hidden in his heart? The very fact of such a discovery made her defy, silently, the possibility of any one ever daring to confess love to her Polly. "No indeed! Polly and she were cut out for business only."

But the disquieting thought that a fine chap like Tom Latimer might be in love with simple wonderful little Polly, made Eleanor zealous in her plans for carrying her friend off to a New York school. No one knew that she had already started the machinery going for her own benefit, but they were soon to find out that this fun-loving girl was as persistent and persevering as one could find anywhere, when she had a pet problem to work out.

The evening after John and Anne had gone to Mrs. Stewarts, in Denver, Barbara asked a favor of her host. The very manner in which she asked it, surprised every one at table. "Mr. Brewster, I have an important errand to do at Oak Creek, to-morrow, and I want you to allow Jeb to drive me in."

"To-morrow! Why, we just got back from there."

"Yes, I know, but it could not have been done to-day, so I have to go in to-morrow."

"Jeb has to superintend the mowing of our first crops to-morrow, if it is clear. Maybe Tom will drive you in if it is so urgent."

Barbara turned imploring eyes on Tom Latimer. Then Eleanor spoke up: "I, too, must go in as I expect a telegram from Chicago."

Her sister scowled at her, but she seemed surprised as well. She stammered: "What have you to wire for?"

"Ah! Is that what you did? Let's see—you managed it this noon, while we were watching the train depart, didn't you? You were in that station just long enough!" exulted Eleanor, grinning at Barbara daringly.

But her sister would not be drawn into an argument this time, and Eleanor decided that it must be something important, indeed, when Bob would not snap back at her. There had been times at home when Barbara had secrets that she feared others to share, then she would keep her peace with Eleanor.

"Unless it is a personal matter that needs your presence in Oak Creek, Alec Hewitt will look after it. He goes to and from the post office every day, and often brings our mail or messages for us," said Mrs. Brewster, hoping to spare the horses another hard day's work.

"I have to be there myself, as I may have to decide on a very important personal matter," returned Barbara, slightly embarrassed.

So it was settled that Tom Latimer would ride with the three girls to Oak Creek on the following morning. This would spare the wagon team the trip and at the same time take the place of any other pleasure ride that might have been planned.

Polly was at a loss to understand why such secrecy should exist between these two sisters—Bob refusing to confide in Eleanor, and Nolla smilingly keeping her own counsel, about the important errands.

As Eleanor had suspected, Barbara went directly to the box-car where the telegrams were received. But to the latter's disappointment, there was one only—and that one was for Eleanor Maynard!

"Are you sure you did not get the name wrong—I am to hear surely, to-day, about something very urgent!" complained Barbara.

"This is mine, all right, Bob, for I expected it. If you like, you can read it now that I know what it says," and Eleanor tendered the yellow sheet to her sister.

Barbara snatched it and read in angry surprise:

"Your wire received. Expect me Saturday. Will visit there for a week.

Love to you both, FATHER"

"How dare you ask father to come here? How do you know the Brewsters want him? And besides, there is no place for him to use as a sleeping-room!" she managed to say in her fury.

Polly and Tom had been sitting outside on a truck but they could not help hearing Barbara's words. Polly smiled up at her companion. Then Eleanor was heard saying:

"No need to rear up like a mad rattler, Bob. I have a nice little plan under way, but it now needs Daddy's persuasive powers to perfect it. I wired him twice this past week, but no one knew of it. If you wired for money or something else, he likely will bring it with him on Saturday."

The very coolness of Eleanor's reply caused Barbara to lose her self-control and she retorted: "Pooh! I wouldn't think of asking father for anything. You can't patronize me this time, Eleanor Maynard. I am waiting for word from mother! There!"

"From mother! why she is in Newport for the Season."

"You mean she was there. Now she is one of a very select party of the best New York society that is camping at Mrs. Van Alstynes' wonderful bungalow in the Muskoka Woods. And I trust I, too, will soon be a member of that circle!"

"Oh, ho! So that is your little game, eh! Well, Bob, I heartily wish you luck. You haven't any idea how quiet and enjoyable Pebbly Pit will be with you away from it!" retorted Eleanor.

With this parting shaft, the younger sister walked out, and found Tom with Polly over by the watering trough where the seven wardrobe trunks had offered such a fine table surface for the gamblers on the day the Chicago girls came to Oak Creek. As she felt sure these two friends had not over-heard the conversation between Barbara and herself, there was no need in explaining, as yet.

Barbara failed to appear, however, and finally Eleanor went to the door to call her. Her impatient words were arrested by hearing the operator at the telegraph instrument, read a message aloud.

"Wire with news received. Have arranged for you. Plenty of marriageable men in party. Do not oppose anything father wants. Win his consent and money for visit. Nolla will be all right there with Anne. Father now back at bank. Write him immediately. Do not waive your rights on mine. We will fight if necessary. It means a fortune for you. Wire me minute you have news. Big affair on next week. MOTHER."

Eleanor managed to slip away without Barbara's seeing her. And so elated was the elder sister over her mother's message, that she failed to find any omission in the telegram. But Eleanor realized that her mother did not mention her love for her daughter—it was all about society, money, and graft!

But her mother's message could not throw cold water over Eleanor; because of the fact that her father would be with her the end of that very week! This was good news enough for any one, so she ran over to Polly, waving her message.

"Just think! Daddy is coming to visit us at Pebbly Pit. Won't it be fun for him to sleep in the barn with John and Tom?"

"Oh, he never could, Nolla!" gasped Polly.

"Why not? He is no better than the boys, here!"

"But—well, I'm sure father won't like him to. We must plan somewhere else for him," replied Polly.

"I'll tell you-all a secret, if you won't tell any one. I got Daddy to hurry here on purpose to meet John and Tom. I believe he will do something about the mine and the Cliffs if he hears the plans from the boys. You know, his bank makes big investments at times. But don't let Bob know this, for anything in the world!"

Tom looked pleasantly surprised at the suggestion. He had forgotten all about Mr. Maynard's connection with a flourishing bank.

"Won't it be nice to have your father meet my father," remarked Polly, thinking not so much of finances as of hospitality.

"Yes, and I hope he won't interfere with Bob's plans to join mother in the North Woods. If only we could get rid of her right off, what a fine time we could have with Dad here!" Eleanor sighed.

Polly never could understand the lack of love and family pride between these two sisters, but then she had never seen how many families there are, where husband and wife have opposite tendencies and ideals; it inevitably followed that the children showed these antagonistic qualities in their behavior to each other.

Having replied to their telegrams, both sisters were ready to ride back to the ranch. But Tom suggested that they visit the Movies where a great society drama was being shown. This pleased the girls, and soon they were following the hair-breadth escapes of an unscrupulous society impostor, and the wreck he had made of a young damsel's faith.

As they filed from the low-ceiled, ill-smelling theater, Eleanor laughed and said: "That's the kind of life Bob wants! If she ever had a fortune of her own, she would have to fend off just such rascals. Watch me wasting my life trying to catch a husband—Pouf!"

Tom laughed merrily for he liked the bluntness of this girl, but he was surprised at the flush Barbara manifested as she wondered if this astute sister of hers could have heard that message read: "Mother mentioned 'a fortune' and 'marriageable men.'" But Eleanor's expression was as innocent as a babe's just then.

That evening after supper, Eleanor drew Polly out to the terrace, which was isolated at that time, and shared her plans with her.

"I was afraid to let you, or any one, know what I was doing, so I just went ahead and did it!"

Polly manifested no surprise at these words, as she expected to hear much more, so she patiently waited. Eleanor seemed at a loss, for once in her lifetime, to know how to tell her story without having it condemned by this upright conscientious friend.

"I wrote mother just after we discovered the mine, and told her how unhappy Barbara was in this forgotten corner of the earth. You see, I wanted mother to send for her at once, and I was anxious to help Bob relieve us of her company. But I never dreamed that Bob was as anxious to get away, as we were to have her go!"

"Oh, Nolla! we are not anxious to have her go—don't say that!" remonstrated Polly.

"Well, you know what I mean—everything will be so nice with no one to be forever finding fault and nagging at one!"

"Maybe she wouldn't nag so much if you did not tease her so! Nolla, you know you are so clever that you have no patience with Bob's slowness in getting things," replied Polly, unconscious of the fact that she had found the very root of the trouble between the sisters.

"Anyway, Bob is on the high road to a society camp in the East, and we will be able to go our own sweet way without her. But I brought you out here to confess what I did! I wired father all about the mine, and the Cliffs, and the Latimers and all—and also told him that the doctor thinks a winter in New York will harden me splendidly. I wired the doctor to tell him that this was true, and he must tell father so.

"Well, I heard from Daddy; he balked at first—said it was rank foolishness for any doctor to recommend the beastly climate of New York City in preference to the West with its dryness. I had to calm him on that point, and then I told him that Anne and her mother were going to New York and I wanted to go with them. He knows how I hate the teas, and bridge, and parties mother is always giving Bob, so I told him how wretched I always was in winter, without friends or any one to talk to—as mother and Bob were always too busy with social duties.

"Father hates these duties as much as I do, and he says mother has no right to give all her time to Bob and never see me from one week's end to another. So he was vulnerable in that spot. When I told him how he could visit me in New York once a month, and spend several days going around with me, he just caved in. And, Polly, I am sure he will agree to my going with Anne.

"To-day, after I got his wire, I waited till Bob was out of the way, then I sent a message to Anne, to tell her to be on the lookout for Dad who was coming here on Saturday. I said it would be so nice for him to ride down from Denver with John and her. And maybe John could explain the financing of the two companies to him.

"I sent the second wire to Dad telling him to be sure and meet Anne at the Denver Terminal at noon, on Saturday, as she would be expecting him. So now I have all my irons in the fire and they're getting red-hot, too!"

As Eleanor concluded, Polly laughed at her funny expression but remarked, "It would be terrible if your irons got so hot that they melted before you could use any one of them, wouldn't it?"



CHAPTER XIII

RIGGLEY & RATZGER OF NEW YORK

Every day that week was crowded with events for the people at Pebbly Pit, and never had so many telegrams passed through the hands of the amazed agent at Oak Creek. First there were those sent by Barbara and Eleanor, and the replies to them. Next day the two girls telegraphed anew from Oak Creek, and these had replies which were forwarded by Alec Hewitt who passed Brewster's ranch. Following these, came a telegram from Anne, saying she had heard from Mr. Maynard and would meet him as planned. Then there came one from Mr. Latimer's office in New York to Tom, saying that Dr. Evans and Mr. Latimer had started for the West on Thursday, on the Limited. Probably they would reach Pebbly Pit on Sunday or Monday. Closely following that message, came one to Mr. Brewster from New York, signed Riggley & Ratzger, Lawyers, to the effect that "they had been appointed the representatives for the company that was formed to make jewels from lava-stone, and they would take great pleasure in visiting Pebbly Pit on Saturday or Sunday, in order to inspect the Rainbow Cliffs. They might be induced to make an offer for the ranch."

The latter suggestion caused Sam Brewster to laugh as he had not done since he heard his Polly was determined to go to school. "What do you think of such sublime fools, Maw?" chuckled he, handing the telegram across the table as they sat on the porch.

"Why, I don't understand. If Evans and Latimer are on their way here, why do they need representatives? Isn't Tom's father a real good lawyer in New York?" said she.

"Sure, but the names alone give me an idea that they are crooks—listen: Riggley and Ratzger. Doesn't it make you think of all queer kinds of fish that one finds in big cities?" laughed her husband.

Tom came from the barns about this time, and Mrs. Brewster turned to tell him the latest news about the seekers of lava-stones. In corroboration of his wife's words, Sam Brewster held out the telegram.

Tom took it in trembling hands, for he had heard of the men whose names were signed to the message. Then he glanced at the signatures and that broke his amazed spell of silence.

"Why! Mr. Brewster, how dare they plan to visit here?" he shouted, his face as red as a poppy.

"Oh, do you know them?" wondered Mr. Brewster.

"Know them? Why, man alive, they are the same two rascals who served the injunction on father and Dr. Evans, and then they tried to steal the patent. They fought in Court, but lost their case. When they appealed, the Court sustained the first verdict, so they had no choice but to give up. I wonder what game they are coming here for?"

Mr. Brewster considered. "Tom, I wouldn't be surprised if they came here, not knowing your folks are, also, coming. Maybe they hope to get first shot at this proposition of Rainbow Cliffs and in this way, make your father pay a fabulous price for the stone."

"Some crooked deal like that, you may be assured. But I can't understand how they ever heard of Rainbow Cliffs and this ranch? There has been a leak, somewhere, in Dad's organization," said Tom, emphatically.

"Well, let's decide now, before they come, what is best for us to do. If they get here before your father and Evans, we must not give them any idea that we expect other guests, nor must we say that we suspect them of foul play. We must give them rope enough with which to hang themselves."

Here Mrs. Brewster interpolated: "We may serve all of our friends a good turn by receiving these strangers with the same western welcome that we extend to every one. But let us not give any one else here a hint of what we now know."

Tom agreed that this was a wise plan, so no one suspected there was an under-current of excitement running in the elder Brewsters' and Tom's thoughts, during the time that must elapse before the New York "representatives" could arrive at Pebbly Pit.

Meanwhile, Mr. Maynard met Anne and John in Denver, and the three took the noon local for Oak Creek. Polly and Eleanor were busy helping Barbara pack her five trunks to have them ready for the ranch-wagon to take to the station on Saturday, when Tom offered to drive in and meet the train from Denver. This done, and Tom on his way, the two girls wondered what next they could do until the return of the party from Oak Creek.

"I say! Let's run to the Cliffs and watch for the first glimpse of Daddy," suggested Eleanor.

"And I'll take some doughnuts to eat in case we get hungry," added Polly.

Fortified with a bag of these delectable balls, the two girls hastened away. Barbara was all sweetness and generosity, now that she was sure of going to join her mother in a fashionable camp. And many fine bits of underwear, or dresses fell Sary's way, when Barbara went through her wardrobe, and discarded the things she felt would be too ordinary-looking in such an exclusive "set" as she was about to join.

Sary refused nothing, carrying everything thrown to her, in her arms as carefully as if she were holding a new-born babe. On the first trip she made through the kitchen in order to reach her private domain, she stopped before Mrs. Brewster and held out the lace-trimmed underwear.

"Mis Brewster, Ah never did think Ah would have sech fine troosos fer my marritch. When Ah married Bill Ah diden have nawthin' but a new cambric dress and a sun-bunnet. But this marritch will be the reel thing, what with all the stuff I'm k'lectin, already."

"You are fortunate, Sary, to be on hand just as Miss Bob's trunks are cleared out," remarked her mistress.

"Yeh, and d'ye know what?" Sary leaned over to whisper confidentially. "Yeh see Ah'm not lettin' anythin' she gives me lay around one minute, 'cause she may change her mind. And ef she once saw what a heap she is throwin' away, she might think Ah was gettin' too much!"

Mrs. Brewster laughed at Sary's wily ways, and replied: "Well, I'll spare you from all the work as long as you are gathering plums from Bob's orchard. I hope you can fill a whole trunk, Sary."

But an unforeseen outgrowth of all these donations was sure to happen. Once Sary had watched the trunks hoisted up in the ranch wagon, and realized that there would be no more "pickin's" for her, she ran to her room and began sorting and gloating over the mass of cast-off clothing. And so mesmerized was she with pictures of herself adorned in the dresses that were made for the form half her girth that Mrs. Brewster found it impossible to coax her back to the kitchen.

Having the Saturday's baking to do, as well as to prepare the dinner for extra ones that night, she went to the door to ask Polly and Eleanor to come in and help her. But the two girls were not in sight.

There was but one hope left! She must do as clever generals did in battle, when the fight seems to go against them—strategy.

She hurried to Sary's door which was closed and locked.

"Oh Sary! I remembered something that I wished to ask you about several times this past week. Did Jeb give you the engagement ring yet?"

Not a sound came from within for a few moments, then the key turned and Sary's amazed face appeared in the doorway. The floor and bed were covered with finery, each piece spread out full length.

"Ah clean fergot all about it. Is Miss Anne got her'n?"

"Oh, yes! John went to Denver with her to choose the stone."

"Kin Jeb git a ring in Oak Crick, d'ye s'pose?"

"Mercy no! Oak Creek hasn't any jewelry shop, you know."

Sary was lost in thought for a time, and this was Mrs. Brewster's opportunity. "I've been wondering how it would do to hint to Jeb that it would make a lovely trip if he were to accompany you to Denver for a day, and let you select your own ring."

"Oh!"

The one word breathed in a scarcely audible sound plainly expressed Sary's ecstasy. Her great hands were loosely clasped before her as her eyes turned ceiling-ward.

"Of course with the house full of company for a few days it will be impossible to think of such a thing, but Bob is going away the first of the week, and then John and Tom leave; next Miss Anne goes back to Denver to see about sending her stuff to New York, or selling what she really won't need, and then you will have time to take such a trip. I will see that Jeb realizes that it is his privilege to do this for you."

"Oh, Mis Brewster, what kin Ah ever do fer you?"

"Well, you can begin to repay me for my kindness by coming out to help me with Saturday's work. And while we are doing that I will plan with you what had best be said and done."

Sary felt that there was a cunning here that she was not able to cope with, but she could not resist the temptation to talk and plan about an engagement ring for herself, so she bravely turned her back on the array of finery, and stoically followed her mistress.

Meantime Polly and Eleanor climbed the cliffs and sat where they could see the Bear Fork's trail in the distance. Polly was sure they would see the great ranch-wagon the moment it came around the bend.

They had not been seated there more than twenty minutes before Eleanor craned her neck and gazed earnestly at two dots that seemed to be crawling along the trail. Polly turned and gazed also.

"Why, it's two horsemen! I wonder if Jim and Ken can be thinking of visiting us over Sunday,—because Mr. Latimer is coming, you know," exclaimed Eleanor, joyfully surprised.

"They wouldn't be arriving Saturday afternoon, as they wouldn't be able to leave camp until Sunday," added Polly.

Both girls shaded their eyes with their hands but neither could make out the forms of the riders. They were mere specks on the white trail. But the girls held their breath when the horsemen turned from Bear Forks trail and rode in under the precipice that overhung the entrance to Pebbly Pit.

"Whoever it is, they are coming here," said Polly.

"I wonder if it could be Mr. Latimer and Dr. Evans—they may have arrived in Oak Creek sooner than they expected," ventured Eleanor.

"We can watch better from this point than anywhere else, and when they pass the Rainbow Cliffs, we can see who they are," now said Polly.

So they watched impatiently until the riders came from under the hanging walls of rock, and rode again along the top of the shale that covered a wide area between the ravines and the Cliffs.

This great stretch of shale was very treacherous going, as on the both sides were deep gulches, or erosions, made by floods from thaws and storms. An abandoned trail ran quite close to one of these ravines but the land-slides of shale had compelled the people at Pebbly Pit to break out a new and safer trail through the middle of the field. To strange eyes, the old trail on the edge of the gulch, was the harder and easier going, but every one coming to the ranch knew the center-trail to be the one always used. Strangers seldom visited Pebbly Pit, and never without a member of the ranch family, or a neighbor to escort them.

When the two horsemen reached the branching of the trails, they halted, and the girls saw them ponder. One man motioned with a hand at the rough trail running over the top of the shale in the middle of the area, but the other seemed to argue that the edge-trail was the best one to take.

"Oh dear! I hope they won't take that slippery one!" cried Polly, in tense nervousness.

"I wish we could yell and warn them!" exclaimed Eleanor, half-rising from her seat.

"They'll never hear us at this distance, but we might run along the top-trail and beckon them to climb up there."

"But, Polly, by the time we reach the shale they will be almost at the Rainbow Cliffs," objected Eleanor.

"Yes, I know, but it seems awful to sit here and watch them ride over that dangerous road."

"To relieve our minds, we can go down as far as possible and meet them when they ride out at Rainbow Cliffs," suggested Eleanor.

So the two girls scrambled down from their high point of observation, and started along the rock-ribbed road that led past the Cliffs. They had not gone far along this trail, however, before Polly saw Jeb riding down from the corrals.

"If I could only get Jeb's attention, he could ride fast and warn those men of their danger," Polly said, thinking aloud.

"Let's both scream at the top of our lungs and see if he can hear us."

So the two girls stood out on the edge of a huge bowlder and, making megaphones of their hands, shouted again and again. The depression made by the crater that lay between the Cliffs and the corral, acted as a hollow tube, so Jeb finally wheeled around and tried to locate the call. When he saw the girls, he immediately started to meet them as no one on the ranch would shout that way for fun.

It took ten minutes for Jeb to cover the circuitous path and join the girls, and when they had hastily explained the cause of their concern, he replied: "Gosh! Ah was told to hang a sign on that flat cliff to warn folks offen the bad trail!"

"Well, you didn't, so now race down the good trail and try to make the men hear you," demanded Polly.

Jeb spurred his horse at that, and was soon out of sight, but Polly and Eleanor continued in the same direction, to see if all turned out well for the riders.

Having reached and passed the last spur of the Rainbow Cliffs, and then climbing the steep ascent to the top-trail, they finally came to a rise whence the whole shale-field could be seen. But not a sign of horsemen could be seen. Jeb, riding like mad, right across the loose shale in reckless risk of breaking his broncho's legs, was the only man visible.

Eleanor turned and looked in wonderment at Polly, but when she saw the look of horror on her friend's face, she caught at her arm.

"Polly! What do you think has happened?"

"Oh, Nolla! I fear they are down in that gulch! Most likely the shale started sliding under their horses' hoofs, and before they realized their danger, they were swept along over the top!"

"Oh, mercy! Polly—never that! Why they will be killed!"

Polly never said a word but watched Jeb as he reined in his horse. Jumping from the saddle and hobbling the animal, he very carefully crawled over the apparently safe surface between himself and the ravine.

"Now I'm sure that's what happened, Nolla, or Jeb wouldn't try to get over there. He's going to see just how bad things are."

"Poll, we'd better run as fast as we can, and get things ready at the ranch. Your father ought to know this, so he can hitch a cart to two strong horses and drive there to help carry the men to the house."

"Nolla, I fear there will be nothing left to carry away. Once the shale starts to slide down that gulch, it goes like the wind and buries everything under its weight and bulk."

"All the same, I will feel that I am doing something to help—let's go!"

So Polly and her companion turned and ran back along the Rainbow Cliffs trail, until they reached the spot whence they had called to Jeb. They stopped for a moment to catch their breath, and while straining their eyes towards the house, saw Mr. Brewster just leaving it.

His horse was waiting at the block, so both girls instantly began shouting to attract his attention. He had keen hearing, and turned to see what might be wrong in the direction of the Cliffs. When he saw the two girls wildly beckoning him to come, he sprang into the saddle and galloped the horse over the intervening space to meet them.

Their story was told in a few words, and Sam Brewster immediately surmised who the riders were. He told the girls to go on to the house and tell Mrs. Brewster to be ready with emergencies, in case either of the travelers were found. Then he turned his horse and galloped to the barns where he called several of the men to help in the rescue work.

Polly and Eleanor would have preferred to go back to the shale-fields and watch the men, but they had to go where they could be of most service in the case.

"Where shall we put them, mother, if father brings both back to the house?" asked Polly.

"There is only one thing we can do, and that is to prepare the cots in the harness-room for them. It is in times of need, like this, that I wish we had a large house."

Down on the shale-fields, Jeb had crept to the edge of the gully and peered over. Far, far below, where the stream roared over the rocks and down waterfalls like a miniature Niagara, he saw one horse doubled up in an unnatural heap. He surmised at once, that it was dead. But half-way up he spied hoofs protruding from the shale, and to this spot he tried to make his way.

As he thought, the rider was still entangled with the stirrups of the horse and could not jump free when the accident had occurred.

By dint of working down, clinging like lichen to the shale surface, Jeb reached the animal whose hoofs stuck pathetically upward. He carefully scraped away the shale and exposed the head of a man. He could not say whether the victim was alive or dead, and he dared not dig away more shale, just then, or the whole side would begin to move again. Having cleared the head so the man could breathe, if possible, he looked anxiously around for the second rider. Not a sign of him was seen from the place where Jeb clung.