CHAPTER XIII.
THE WET BLANKET.
"JACK, how are we ever going to quit using slang?" Jean groaned.
"Oh, we do worse things, Jean Bruce," Jack answered unfeelingly. "Littlewe know how many crimes we do commit! Just wait until a straight-lacedold maid gets hold of us! And what will Cousin Ruth say about Jim'sgrammar? You know she is a B.A. from some woman's college. Do you knowJean, I often wonder if Jim talks in the careless way he does simplybecause he has lived so long out here with the cowboys. He must have hadsome education when he was young, he seems to have read a great manybooks."
"Jim Colter is a clam," Jean remarked impatiently, forgetting herresolution to speak only "English, pure and undefiled." "He would ratherdie than to let us learn anything of his past. I do declare, Jack, thatif he were anybody in the world except Jim, I should think he hadsomething in his life he wished to conceal. I wonder if he ever had atragic love affair?"
"Oh, Jean, you are a romantic goose," Jack exclaimed. "What was it youhad to show me?"
Jean and Jack were giving a thorough cleaning to the living-room; AuntEllen had shaken the rugs and polished the pine floor, but the two girlswere dusting vigorously in every crack and corner and rubbing the brasscandlesticks with an unaccustomed ardor.
Through the entire Lodge there rioted a sense of preparation, as beforethe approach of some great event.
Jean flung down her dust cloth, seized Jack by the hand and marched herover to the corner lined with their book shelves.
Jack discovered an entirely unknown row of books. "Why, Jean Bruce!"Jack exclaimed in amazement. "Where did you ever find these old thingsand what do we want with them anyhow?"
Jack was staring at Congressional reports, a few ancient law books and atreatise on medicine. But there also were eight volumes of Gibbon's"Rome," Greene's "History of The English People," and several othervaluable old histories, arranged in a conspicuous place on the bookshelves. Jean's most cherished novels had been stuck out of sight.
Jean smiled a superior smile. "I found the books upstairs in Uncle'strunk, of course, and I brought them down here to impress our newchaperon or governess, which ever you choose to call her. I wasdetermined she should not think we were perfect dunces when she arrivedat Rainbow Lodge."
Jack appeared to reflect. "I don't see how it will do much good," sheargued, half laughing. "Cousin Ruth will soon find out that we don'tknow anything in the books worth mentioning."
But Jean was not in the least discouraged. "First impressions are alwaysthe most important, Jacqueline Ralston," she announced calmly. "Myadvice to this family is to let Cousin Ruth get her shocks from our wildbehavior by degrees so that she will have time to rally in between."
"Do you think she is going to find us so very dreadful?" Jack inquiredquite seriously, without the trace of a smile. She was climbing up on aladder to try to straighten a beautiful golden lynx skin, which wasslipping off the wall.
"Worse than wild Indians," Jean replied, unmoved, "just you mark mywords, Miss Ralston. For instance, Miss Drew is going to announce thatit is a perfect shame for any one to shoot a poor dear wildcat. Uncleought to have reasoned with that cat when it jumped at him. She is goingto hate us and all our ways forever and want to go back to her blessedNew England in a week."
Jack sighed, "you are a Job's comforter, Jean. But you don't have toworry, I know Cousin Ruth will hold me responsible for our wicked ways.You see I wrote her that we did not want her to come out to us when shefirst said she would. Then I had to eat humble pie and say we did. Buteven if she does not like you or me, Jean, she can't help caring forOlive and Frieda. Olive is the prettiest, shyest girl in the world."
Jean nodded. "Jack," she asked more sympathetically, "is Cousin Ruthhorribly old?"
"She is twenty-eight and a dreadful old maid," Jack confessed sadly."Jean, you have simply got to ride over to the station with Jim to meether this afternoon."
Jean shook her head and dropped languidly into a large reclining chair."I am not at all well, Jack," she answered, "I forgot to tell you thismorning, but I feel a bad cold coming on. If I should take a long ride Iam sure I should be quite ill."
Jack stared at her cousin searchingly. "You don't show the least sign ofa cold, Jean," she argued.
"That is because appearances are deceiving, sweet coz," Jean murmured."How is our dear lady cousin going to get over to the ranch?"
"Oh, Jim is going to lead a horse over for her to ride back on," Jackannounced quite unconscious of breakers ahead. "You see the train getsin so late that we couldn't get home until after dark, if we drove over,and I thought it would be kind of nice to have Cousin Ruth arrive atRainbow Lodge just at twilight. You didn't think to look among father'sbooks for a stray paper, did you, Jean?" Jack asked, trying to appearindifferent.
"Yes, I did, Jack," Jean returned quickly. "There wasn't anything. Let'sdon't talk about it. I promise to have everything at the Lodge to-nightin ship-shape order, when you arrive. We have cleaned up the whole houseand we will put on our best clothes and stand out on the veranda to meetyou; we might even sing, 'Hail, the conquering hero comes,' if you thinkit would be appreciated."
"Do you suppose Jim could meet Cousin Ruth without me?" Jack queried, asa forlorn hope.
Jean shook her head decidedly. "Most certainly not, Jack; never in theworld! The lady would think Jim was trying to kidnap her and he would bescared to death." Jean kissed Jack apologetically. "I know I am horrid,Jack, to put all the hard things off on you because you are a little bitthe oldest, but really, if I had to meet Cousin Ruth at the station, I'dshiver and shake until I fell off my horse. I will do the next hardthing that has to be done on this place, I will honestly, cross my heartand body," Jean argued penitently.
Three weeks had passed since Jim Colter's and Jack's eventful rideacross the ranch. It was late October, but unusually mild and warm.Cousin Ruth had been written to on the very evening of the decision, sothat there could be no chance for a change of purpose on the part ofthe ranch girls, for they felt that they were in for it and weredetermined to do their best.
Miss Ruth Drew was entirely alone in the world except for onegood-for-nothing brother and had just enough money to eke out a bareexistence in a dull little Vermont town. She wanted an object in lifeand believed that the ranch girls needed her. So soon as Jack's letterarrived, she had telegraphed that she would come to them at once. Sincethen, the days at Rainbow Lodge had slipped by like magic until thefated day arrived. Jim Colter and Jack, with many inward misgivings,mounted their ponies and leading an extra one for Miss Drew, rode to thestation.
The express from the East would be due in an hour.
Jack and Jim paced restlessly up and down the station platform, withtheir arms locked. Jim looking even more wretched and unhappy than Jack.He wondered how in the world he was to treat the old lady cousin whenshe came out to them, and whether she would shut off from caring for hisadored ranch girls.
Jim had not the remotest idea of Miss Ruth Drew's age. The name had anelderly sound to it and Jack had described her as an old maid;consequently Jim's mental picture showed a small, grey-haired woman withcorkscrew curls, somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty, with thin lipsand a penetrating eye. She would probably reduce him to powder with asingle glance, but he meant to be as polite to her as he humanly couldand to speak to her only when it was absolutely necessary.
"Jim," Jack suggested finally, "you have sighed like a human bellowsthree times in the past five minutes. If you meet Cousin Ruth with thatexpression, she'll think we are sorry she has come. Please go over intothe town and buy yourself some tobacco or something to cheer you. I'llget on Tricks and ride up and down near the track for a while, and thenwe will both be in a better humor when the train finally does get in."
Miss Ruth Drew sighed. She was sitting in the Pullman car with her eyesclosed and an expression of supreme fatigue on her sallow but notunattractive face.
It seemed to her that she had been traveling ever since she couldremem
ber. Were there people in the world idiotic enough to think therewas beauty in the western prairies? For days she had looked out on barestretches of endless brown plains rising and falling in one monotonouschain. The sand was in her eyes, in her ears, in her mouth; worst ofall, it had piled up in a great mass of homesickness on her heart.
How could she have turned her back on dear New England villages, withtheir sleepy, green and white homesteads and trim gardens, for this vastdesert? "Of course, she was doing her duty in coming to look after fourmotherless girls," Ruth remembered, with a pang, but her duty at thepresent moment did not appear cheerful.
When the conductor announced that the next station was hers, Ruth sat upand arranged her hat and veil neatly. She adjusted her glasses on herthin nose and put back the single lock of hair that had strayed from itsplace. Her heart began to flutter a little faster. Was she actuallyarriving in the neighborhood of Rainbow Ranch? It didn't seem possible!
If you can imagine a very prim, grey mouse kind of girl, who looked agood deal older than she was, with ash brown hair and eyes and a neattailor-made suit to match, you will get a very good impression of MissRuth Drew. Her figure was very good and her mouth might have beenpretty, except that it looked as though she disapproved of a great manythings, and that is never becoming. But she was tired and homesick andit was not a fair time to judge her.
It would be another fifteen minutes before she would get into Wolfville,and Ruth closed her eyes again. There was nothing to see out of herwindow that was in the least interesting and she preferred to thinkabout the ranch girls. She wondered if they would be very hard to get onwith, if they were very wild and reckless. It made her shudder: the ideaof her cousin's children growing up with only a common cowboy for theirfriend and adviser.
There was a little stir in the car, the engine had slowed down. Ruthopened her eyes; what had made her traveling companions' faces brightenwith interest? Three or four of them rushed across the aisle and pressedtheir noses up against the window panes on her side of the coach. Oneman threw up the car window, leaned out and shouted: "Hurrah!" A womanwaved her handkerchief.
Ruth's curiosity was aroused and she gazed languidly out her window.Flying along the road that followed the line of the track, was a Westernpony. The horse was running like a streak, his nostrils quivering withexcitement, his feet pounding along the hard sand.
"Beat it! beat it!" cried the excited stranger. "Did anybody ever seesuch riding before?" The man addressed the entire car.
Ruth could see that there was someone on the horse, running a race withthe express train. The rider was in brown and Ruth could not observevery distinctly. She supposed that it was an Indian boy.
"That girl is a wonder!" the man exclaimed, who had been traveling nextthe prim young woman from the East for four days without daring to lookstraight at her. He leaned over his seat and smiled.
"Girl!" Miss Drew repeated in surprise. "Was the figure on horseback agirl?" Ruth was quite willing to admit that she had never seen suchhorsemanship in her life. The girl was perfectly graceful and at timesshe leaned over to urge her pony on, or bent sideways as though sheswayed with the motion of the wind. She seemed to rest on her horse solightly that she added no burden to him but was like the spirit ofmotion carrying him on.
The engine ahead whistled three times. The train was moving slowly,still it was remarkable how the rider kept up with the passenger coach.
Just as the car rolled into the station, the girl on horseback flashed asmile at the people watching her from the car windows, and Ruth had abrief glimpse of a shaft of sunlight caught in a mass of bright, bronzehair and a pair of radiant cheeks and eyes. Then she seized her suitcase and umbrella, slipped into her overshoes and hurried out of thetrain. She had read that it rarely rained in Wyoming, except in thespring, but she wished to run no risk of taking cold.
The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge Page 13