The Ranch Girls' Pot of Gold

by Margaret Vandercook

  CHAPTER XV

  ELIZABETH'S STRANGE CONFESSION

  Jean stayed upstairs, but when Jack came back with the wraps she foundRuth and Jim gone, leaving word that she and Olive were to put Frieda tobed without waiting for her, as she might come back fairly late.

  Over in a quiet corner Jack saw Olive and Frieda still with the Harmons.In a moment she meant to join them, but first she must conquer a queersensation that overmastered her. Jack bit her lips and her eyes clouded.Never before in her life had she known what it was to be overtaken by apremonition; now she felt almost ill, she longed to escape and never seteyes on the Harmons again. With all her soul she longed for RainbowLodge and wished they had not rented it to strangers.

  But Olive had seen Jack, and Donald was crossing over to ask her to jointhem. Jack closed her eyes, opened them, shrugged her shoulders anddetermined to think no more foolishness that evening.

  When she reached Elizabeth Harmon's side, the girl caught her handeagerly and pressed it against her thin, hot cheek. "I have been tellingmother I knew none of you were pleased at our coming to the Yellowstonewhile you were here," she declared pettishly, "and I suppose _I_ will bein the way; but please won't you just say _you_ are glad to have me? Idon't care about the others."

  "Elizabeth," Mrs. Harmon remonstrated; but Jack leaned over and gentlykissed the spoiled girl who had taken such an overwhelming fancy to her.At the same moment a wave of remorse swept over her that she had not atonce been happy at her opportunity to add something to Elizabeth'spleasure. How pitiful it was that the young girl so longed to take partin their outdoor amusements, when she was able to walk only a few yardsat a time. Suddenly a feeling of thankfulness for her own health andvigor rushed over Jack, and in that moment she determined, while theywere thrown together, to devote herself utterly to her new friend; forJacqueline Ralston possessed many of the traits of character of a braveboy or man. Weakness and a need for her protection made an instantappeal to her. It was her first instinct in caring for Olive and it wasresponsible for what she afterwards did for Elizabeth Harmon.

  "I am truly glad you are here with us, Elizabeth," Jack could now replyhonestly. "But haven't you enjoyed your two weeks at Rainbow Lodge, andhasn't it done you good? I felt so sure you would soon grow strongerthere, perhaps because I love the ranch so dearly myself, and have beenso well and happy there."

  Elizabeth shrugged her delicate shoulders until her loose mass ofred-gold hair almost covered her face. "Oh, yes, I like the ranch wellenough and I suppose I am better," she returned. "But I thought fathercame west and rented your house so I might be out of doors all the time,and go about wherever I wished, and now I am hardly allowed to get outof sight of the Lodge. As soon as you went away such a queer lot ofpeople turned up at your ranch--a gypsy with his wagon and family. Theyare camping somewhere on your place, because they are always being seen.One day Don and I saw them near the stump of the old tree where you andOlive made the compact of friendship with us."

  Jack opened her lips to speak, and then changed her mind, Olive turnedfrom talking with Donald to stare in amazement, when from the depth ofMrs. Harmon's lap a small voice said sleepily, "I bet you, Jack,Elizabeth is talking about those same gypsies who came to our ranch andtold our fortunes. I thought Jim said he would not have them on ourplace," Frieda ended.

  Jack blushed. She too had guessed "Gypsy Joe" must be the intruder, andintended to report the matter to Jim, but she did not wish anydiscussion of the subject with the Harmons.

  "Oh, but gypsies aren't the only queer people who have come to theranch," Elizabeth continued; "there are other rough looking men whomfather spends hours and hours with. He----"

  "Elizabeth," Mrs. Harmon interrupted sternly, "how many times have Iasked you not to talk of your father's affairs with strangers? He wouldbe extremely angry with you for telling Miss Ralston this nonsense."

  "It isn't nonsense, it's the truth and you know it," Elizabeth answered."I believe father sent us away from Rainbow Lodge at this time becausehe wanted to get rid of us. And he promised me he would not attend toany business while we were on the ranch. Now two men are coming on fromthe East to see him, and he is as worried and excited over something ascan be and won't tell us what it is."

  Mrs. Harmon lifted Frieda from her lap. "Donald, will you pleasepersuade Elizabeth not to bore Miss Ralston with our family history?"she asked.

  "Oh, shut up, Elizabeth. Why do you never do as mother asks you?" Donaldmuttered, and Elizabeth began to cry like a spoiled baby.

  Jack, Olive and Frieda kept their eyes on the ground; not beingaccustomed to family quarrels they felt exceedingly uncomfortable.

  "Suppose we say good night, Donald, dear," Mrs. Harmon suggested. "I amsure Elizabeth must be tired. Miss Ralston, I believe my husband haswritten your overseer of the presence of this gypsy on your ranch. Inregard to Mr. Harmon's present worry and excitement, we have notmentioned it to Elizabeth, as we try to keep our annoyances from her;but her father has recently lost a good deal of money in Wall Street,so he is naturally concerned."

  "I am sure I am awfully sorry," Jack replied, not knowing exactly whatshe should say. But five minutes later she and Olive and Frieda breatheda sigh of relief--the Harmon family had finally departed to their roomsand the ranch girls were free to go to bed.

  Half an hour later Donald Harmon was still in his mother's room.Elizabeth was fast asleep in the room adjoining.

  "Is there any way on earth to make Elizabeth stop talking when sheshouldn't, Don?" Mrs. Harmon sighed. "Poor child, she is so difficult! Iwas wretchedly uncomfortable, not knowing what she might tell to-night."

  Donald's handsome face clouded. "She don't know anything, so she can'ttell anything," he answered. "I almost wish she did; then theresponsibility would be off my conscience. And I know father wouldforgive Beth anything."

  Mrs. Harmon changed color. "Well, he wouldn't forgive you or me, son,"she replied. "And, after all, this isn't our affair, and we must notinterfere with your father's plan."

  Don shook his head, unconvinced by his mother's argument. "I don't knowwhether you are right or wrong in this, mother," he answered. "It seemsto me this time we ought to interfere. By keeping silent and not lettingthe Ralstons know of our suspicion, we are behaving prettydishonorably." Donald lifted his shoulders and shook them as though hewere trying to shake off the burden of the idea that oppressed him."Perhaps father's great find will come to nothing and he has beendeceived about the whole business," he added hopefully. "For my part Iwish things would turn out that way. I don't like to be mixed up inthis."

  Mrs. Harmon looked worn and older. Before no one but her son did shedrop her society mask and show her true self. "Dear," she protested,"remember you and I can bear being poor, but think how dreadful lifewould be for Elizabeth if we did not have a great deal of money to dofor her."

  Don sighed. Always he had been expected to sacrifice everything for hissister, and now he was to be asked to sacrifice his honor as well. Buthe wondered why his mother should talk of their being poor because hisfather had lost a portion of his money in Wall Street. His mother had awealthy aunt who had always done everything for them, and he and hissister were supposed to be her only heirs. It wasn't very probable thatAunt Agatha would lose all her fortune or go back on them.

  Donald bent to kiss his mother good night. "For goodness' sake, let'sdon't worry over this scheme of father's until we know it is going toamount to something," he argued. "We do want to have a good time on thistrip--the ranch girls are simply great!"

  While all this was transpiring, Ruth and Jim Colter were rowing alongthe northern border of Yellowstone Lake toward a small island known asPelican Roost. Earlier in the afternoon, on seeing a number of thepelicans floating like a fleet of boats on the face of the water, Ruthhad idly suggested that she would like to see them at night, as theymust look, roosting on their island, like wicked old ghosts. And Jim hadplanned then to bring Ruth out for a moonlight row alone.

  When he returned to fin
d Ruth waiting on the verandah for him, he hadmade no explanation of his long absence and, as his face was unusuallyserious, Ruth had asked no questions. In the hour of his absence theface of the world had changed for Jim Colter! Before going to the hotelclerk for the letters that had been sent him from the Rainbow Ranch, Jimhad made up his mind to tell Ruth he loved her to-night, and to try tomake her love him in return. The weeks of the caravan trip had ended afight with himself. Jim had finally decided that a man's past need havenothing more to do with him than an old garment that has been cast asideforever. He would tell Ruth he cared for her and they would begin a newlife together. But this was his idea before reading the letters from theRainbow Ranch.

  Jim now rowed on in complete silence, while Ruth idly wondered when hewas going to make up his mind to talk and what special thing he couldwish to tell her alone. As Jim always took a long time to put histhoughts into words she felt no impatience.

  "I had a letter from that Harmon man," Jim remarked abruptly. It was sodifferent a speech from anything she expected him to say that Ruth feltirritated. Wasn't it rather stupid for Jim to have brought her out aloneon the lake in the moonlight to talk of the Harmons?

  "Did you?" she returned indifferently, slipping her white fingers in thewater to see if she could touch one of the yellow water lilies thatfloated near.

  Jim heaved a sigh so deep that Ruth laughed. "I never did want to rentour Lodge to the fellow," he protested bitterly. "I knew nothing buttrouble could come from a New York money grabber."

  "Why, Mr. Jim, you are unfair," Ruth declared. "You know you were asanxious, after the first, to come on this caravan trip as the rest ofus. And we couldn't have come without the Harmon money. I am sorry youhaven't enjoyed it."

  "I have liked it better than anything I ever did since I was born, RuthDrew," Jim replied so solemnly that Ruth was frightened into silence."But I suppose we might have managed it somehow without introducing theplagued Harmon family onto our ranch. What do you think this Harmon manhas written me?"

  "I am sure I don't know--what?" Ruth asked a little irritably.

  "Oh, nothing but a cool offer to buy Rainbow Ranch off our hands at anyreasonable figure we choose to sell it for. He says he has gotten sointerested in the ranch, and thinks it such a fine place for hisdaughter and son, that he would be willing to pay what our neighborsmight think a fancy sum for the place."

  For just a half second Ruth's heart stood still, or felt as though ithad. She saw Rainbow Ranch, which had been saved for them once byFrieda's discovery, slipping away again, the girls scattered, herselfback in the old Vermont village away from this wonderful western life,and Jim--she wondered _what would_ become of Jim.

  Then Ruth came to her senses. "Well, Mr. Jim, I don't see anything sodreadful in Mr. Harmon's offer. I don't wonder he is in love with ourranch, but we don't have to sell it to him because he wants it, do we?Jack would never think of it."

  "It isn't all just what Jack wishes, Miss Ruth," Jim answered sadly. "Itis because living on the ranch with you and the girls means more thaneverything else in the world to me, that it kind of sinks into me thatwe oughtn't to turn Mr. Harmon's offer down without thinking and talkingit over. The ranch don't pay such an awful lot these days--just barelyenough to keep things going; and maybe the girls ought to haveadvantages like schools and traveling. You know better than I do, Ruth.Won't you try and help me think this thing out and decide what is bestfor them?"

  For a moment Ruth was silent, knowing in her heart why Jim took Mr.Harmon's offer so seriously. All his own hopes and plans depended on hisrefusing it. If he were no longer the overseer of the Rainbow Ranch hewould have nothing to offer the woman he loved, not even a bare support.The money he had saved for himself in the past years would not keep themsix months. Therefore, since Jim Colter's sense of honor was strongerthan any selfish desire, he feared that his own wish to turn down Mr.Harmon's offer without wasting a moment's consideration on it was simplybecause it would serve his own purpose and not because it was best forthe ranch girls.

  "I don't believe it will be best for the girls to sell the ranch, Idon't honestly," Ruth replied. And then under her breath, "I promise youI am not thinking of us."

  What Ruth meant by her use of the word "us" Jim did not know. Of courseshe too might lose her occupation if the girls gave up the ranch. Butwhatever she meant the word sounded pretty good to him.

  "Of course it would do no harm to talk over the proposition from Mr.Harmon with the girls," Ruth added indifferently; "but I am as sure as Iever was of anything in the world just how they will feel about it.Don't let's speak of it now, though, Mr. Jim. Mr. Harmon can't expectyou to reply to his letter at once, and we don't want any business tointerfere with our first days in wonderland. Was there anything else inMr. Harmon's letter that annoyed you?"

  "Yes--no," Jim answered shortly. "At least Harmon wrote that he had someprivate business with the fellow who came junketing around in a gypsycart to our ranch one day, and he presumed I wouldn't mind the man'sstaying on the place. Can't imagine what Harmon can want of a tramp like'Gypsy Joe.' He never would have written me about him, I suppose, if hehadn't known the boys at the ranch would tell me as soon as one of themcould get up the energy to write." Jim again relapsed into silence. Themoon went behind a cloud and the island was hardly visible ahead. Ruthdecided that the evening had been a disappointing one. She wondered whythe thought of this half-gypsy, half-gentleman tramp should give Jim theblues. She had relieved his mind of the idea that it was his duty forthe girls' sake to sell them out of house and home.

  "Let's row back to shore, Mr. Jim," Ruth said coldly, in the aloofmanner she still knew how to use when things did not please her. "I amgetting tired and sleepy, and I don't want the girls to worry about me."

  Jim silently turned his boat to shore. After all, perhaps he had beenmistaken in the idea that a man can rid himself of his past. If Ruthknew why this fellow, whom she heard spoken of as "Gypsy Joe," couldsend the cold shivers up and down his spine, would she ever use the tinyword "us" in the tone that she had spoken it a while before?

  When Jim and Ruth said good night, instead of feeling a closer bond ofaffection, they were colder in their manner toward one another than theyhad been since the hour the caravan first rolled away from the RainbowRanch and the days of their good comradeship began.