CHAPTER II.
AT WARE'S WIGWAM
In order that Lloyd's invitation to her own house-party might reach heron her birthday, it had not been mailed until several days after theothers. So it happened that the same morning on which she slipped acrossthe hall in her kimono, to share her first rapturous delight with Kitty,Joyce Ware's letter reached the end of its journey.
The postman on the first rural delivery route out of Phoenix joggedalong in his cart toward Ware's Wigwam. He had left the highway and wasfollowing the wheel-tracks which led across the desert to CamelbackMountain. The horse dropped into a plodding walk as the wheels beganpulling heavily through the sand, and the postman yawned. This stretchof road through the cactus and sage-brush was the worst part of hisdaily trip. He rarely passed anything more interesting than ajack-rabbit, but this morning he spied something ahead that aroused hiscuriosity.
At first it seemed only a flash of something pink beating the air; but,as he jogged nearer, he saw that the flash of pink was a short-skirtedgingham dress. A high-peaked Mexican hat hid the face of the wearer, butit needed no second glance to tell him who she was. Every line of thesturdy little figure, from the uplifted arms brandishing a club to thedusty shoes planted widely apart to hold her balance, proclaimed that itwas Mary Ware. As the blows fell with relentless energy, the postmanchuckled.
"Must be killing a snake," he thought. "Whatever it is, it will beflatter than a pancake when she gets through with it."
Somehow he always felt like chuckling when he met Mary Ware. Whatevershe happened to be doing was done with a zeal and a vim that made thisfourteen-year-old girl a never-failing source of amusement to theeasy-going postman. Now as he came within speaking distance, he saw asurrey drawn up to the side of the road, and recognized the horse as oldBogus from Lee's ranch.
"IT NEEDED NO SECOND GLANCE TO TELL HIM WHO SHE WAS"]
A thin, tall woman, swathed in a blue veil, sat stiffly on the backseat, reaching forward to hold the reins in a grasp that showed bothfear and unfamiliarity in the handling of horses. She was a newboarder at Lee's ranch. Evidently they had been out on some errand forMrs. Lee, and were returning from one of the neighboring orange-groves,for the back of the surrey was filled with oranges and grapefruit.
The postman's glance turned from the surrey to the object in the roadwith an exclamation of surprise. One of the largest rattlesnakes he hadever seen lay stretched out there, and Mary, having dropped her club,was proceeding to drag it toward the surrey by a short lasso made of apiece of the hitching-rope. The postman stood up in his cart to look atit.
"Better be sure it's plumb dead before you give it a seat in yourcarriage," he advised.
Mary gave a glance of disgust toward the blue-veiled figure in thesurrey.
"Oh, it's _dead_," she said, witheringly. "Mr. Craydock shot its headoff to begin with, over at the orange-grove this morning, and I'vekilled it four different times on our way home. He gave it to me to taketo Norman for his collection. But Miss Scudder is so scared of it thatshe makes me get out every half-mile to pound a few more inches off itsneck. It was a perfect beauty when we started,--five feet long andtwelve rattles. I'm so afraid I'll break off some of the rattles thatI'll be mighty glad when I get it safely home."
"So will I!" ejaculated Miss Scudder, so fervently that the postmanlaughed as he drove on.
"Any mail for us?" Mary called after him.
"Only some papers and a letter for your sister," he answered over hisshoulder.
"Now why didn't I ask him to take me and the snake on home in the cartwith him?" exclaimed Mary, as she lifted the rattler into the surrey bymeans of the lasso, and took the reins from the new boarder's uneasyhands. "Even if you can't drive, Bogus could take you to the ranch allright by himself. Lots of times when Hazel Lee and I are out driving, wewrap the reins around the whipholder and let him pick his own way. NowI'll have to drag this snake all the way from the ranch to the Wigwam,and it will be a dreadful holdback when I'm in such a hurry to get thereand see who Joyce's letter is from.
"You see," she continued, clucking cheerfully to Bogus, "the postman'smail-pouch is almost as interesting as a grab-bag, since my two brotherswent away. Holland is in the navy," she added, proudly, "and my oldestbrother, Jack, has a position in the mines up where mamma and Normanand I are going to spend the summer."
Three years in the desert had not made Mary Ware any the less talkative.At fourteen she was as much of a chatterbox as ever, but so diverting,with her fund of unexpected information and family history and hercheerful outlook on life, that Mrs. Lee often sent for her to amuse someinvalid boarder, to the mutual pleasure of the small philosopher and heraudience.
The experiment this morning had proved anything but a pleasure drive foreither of them, however. Timid Miss Scudder, afraid of horses, afraid ofthe lonely desert, and with a deathly horror of snakes, gave a sigh ofrelief when they came in sight of the white tents clustered around thebrown adobe ranch house on the edge of the irrigating canal. But withthe end of her journey in sight, she relaxed her strained muscles andnerves somewhat, and listened with interest to what Mary was saying.
"This year has brought three of us our heart's desires, anyhow. Hollandhas been wild to get into the navy ever since he was big enough to knowthat there is one. Jack has been looking forward to this position in themines ever since we came out West. It will be the making of him,everybody says. And Joyce's one dream in life has been to save enoughmoney to go East to take lessons in designing. Her bees have donesplendidly, but I don't believe she could have _quite_ managed it ifEugenia Forbes hadn't invited her to be one of the bridesmaids at herwedding, and promised to send her a pass to New York."
She broke off abruptly as Bogus came to a stop in front of the tents,and, standing up, she proceeded to dangle the snake carefully over thewheel, till it was lowered in safety to the ground. Ordinarily she wouldhave lingered at the ranch until the occupant of every tent had strolledout to admire her trophy, and afterward might have accepted Hazel Lee'sinvitation to stay to dinner. It was a common occurrence for them tospend their Saturdays together. But to-day not even the promise ofstrawberry shortcake and a ride home afterward, when it was cooler,could tempt her to stay.
The yellow road stretched hot and glaring across the treeless desert.The snake was too heavy to carry on a pole over her shoulder. She wouldhave to drag it through the sun and sand if she went now. But hercuriosity was too strong to allow her to wait. She must find out whatwas in that letter to Joyce. If it were from Jack, there would besomething in it about their plans for the summer; maybe a kodak pictureof the shack in the pine woods near the mines, where they were to board.If it were from Holland, there would be another interesting chapter ofhis experiences on board the training-ship.
Once as she trudged along the road, it occurred to her that the lettermight be from her cousin Kate, the "witch with a wand," who had so oftenplayed fairy godmother to the family. She might be writing to say thatshe had sent another box. Straightway Mary's active imagination fell topicturing its contents so blissfully that she forgot the heat of thesun-baked road over which she was going. Her face was beaded withperspiration and her eyes squinted nearly shut under the broad brim ofthe Mexican sombrero, but, revelling in the picture her mind called upof cool white dresses and dainty thin-soled slippers, she walked fasterand faster, oblivious to the heat and the glaring light. Her sunburnedcheeks were flaming red when she finally reached the Wigwam, and thelocks of hair straggling down her forehead hung in limp wet strings.
Lifting the snake carefully across the bridge which spanned theirrigating canal, she trailed it into the yard and toward theumbrella-tree which shaded the rustic front porch. Under this shelteringumbrella-tree, which spread its dense arch like a roof, sat Joyce andher mother. The heap of muslin goods piled up around them showed thatthey had spent a busy morning sewing. But they were idle now. One glanceshowed Mary that the letter, whosever it was, had brought unusual news.Joyce sat on the door-step with it
in her lap and her hands clasped overher knees. Mrs. Ware, leaning back in her sewing-chair, was opening andshutting a pair of scissors in an absent-minded manner, as if herthoughts were a thousand miles away.
"Well, it's good news, anyway," was Mary's first thought, as she glancedat her sister's radiant face. "She wouldn't look so pretty if it wasn't.It's a pity she can't be hearing good news all the time. When her eyesshine like that, she's almost beautiful. Now me, all the good news inthe world wouldn't make _me_ look beautiful, freckled and fat andsunburned as I am, and my hair so fine and thin and straight--"
She paused in her musings to look up each sleeve for her handkerchief,and not finding it in either, caught up the hem of her short pink skirtto wipe her perspiring face.
"Oh, _what_ did the postman bring?" she demanded, seating herself on theedge of the hammock swung under the umbrella-tree. "I've almost walkedmyself into a sunstroke, hurrying to get here and find out. Is it fromJack or Holland or Cousin Kate?"
"It is from The Locusts," answered Joyce, leaning forward to see whatwas tied to the other end of the rope which Mary still held. Seeing thatit was only a snake, something which Mary and Holland were alwaysdragging home, to add to their collection of skins and shells, she wenton:
"The Little Colonel is to have a second house-party. The same girls thatwere at the first one are invited for the month of June, and Eugenia isto be married there instead of in New York. Think what a wedding it willbe, in that beautiful old Southern home! A thousand times nicer than itwould have been in New York."
She stopped to enjoy the effect her news had produced. Mary's face wasglowing with unselfish pleasure in her sister's good fortune.
"And we're to wear pale pink chiffon dresses, just the color of wildroses. Eugenia got the material in Paris when she ordered herwedding-gown, and they're to be made in Louisville after we get there."
The light in Mary's face was deepening.
"And Phil Tremont is to be there the entire month of June. He is to bebest man, you know, since Eugenia is to marry his brother."
"Oh, Joyce!" gasped Mary. "What a heavenly time you are going to have!Just The Locusts by itself would be good enough, but to be there at ahouse-party, and have Phil there and to see a wedding! I've alwayswanted to go to a wedding. I never saw one in my life."
"Tell her the rest, daughter," prompted Mrs. Ware, gently. "Don't keepher in the dark any longer."
"Well, then," said Joyce, smiling broadly. "Let me break it to you bydegrees, so the shock won't give you apoplexy or heart-failure. The restof it is, that _you_--Mary Ware, are invited also. _You_ are invited togo with me to the house-party at The Locusts! And _you'll_ see thewedding, for Mr. Sherman is going to send tickets for both of us, andmamma and I have made all the plans. Now that she is so well, she won'tneed either of us while she's up at the camp with Jack, and the moneyit would have taken to pay your board will buy the new clothes youneed."
All the color faded out of the hot little face as Mary listened, growingpale with excitement.
"Oh, mamma, is it _true_?" she asked, imploringly. "I don't see how itcan be. But Joyce wouldn't fool me about anything as big as this, wouldshe?"
She asked the question in such a quiver of eagerness that the tearssprang to her eyes. Joyce had expected her to spin around on her toesand squeal one delighted little squeal after another, as she usually didwhen particularly happy. She did not know what to expect next, when allof a sudden Mary threw herself across her mother's lap and began to soband laugh at the same time.
"Oh, mamma, the old Vicar was right. It's been awfully hard sometimes tok-keep inflexible. Sometimes I thought it would nearly k-kill me! But wedid it! We did it! And now fortune _has_ changed in our favor, andeverything is all right!"
A rattle of wheels made her look up and hastily wipe the hem of her pinkskirt across her face again. A wagon was stopping at the gate, and theman who was to stay in one of the tents and take care of the bees intheir absence was getting out to discuss the details of thearrangement. Joyce tossed the letter into Mary's lap and rose to followher mother out to the hives. There were several matters of business toarrange with him, and Mary knew it would be some time before they couldresume the exciting conversation he had interrupted. She read the letterthrough, hardly believing the magnitude of her good fortune. But, as thetruth of it began to dawn upon her, she felt that she could not possiblykeep such news to herself another instant. It might be an hour beforeJoyce and her mother had finished discussing business with the man andNorman was away fishing somewhere up the canal.
So, settling her hat on her head, she started back over the hot road, soabsorbed in the thought of all she had to tell Hazel that she was whollyunconscious of the fact that she was still holding tightly to the ropetied around the rattler's neck. Five feet of snake twitched along behindher as she started on a run toward the ranch.
The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor Page 5