by Helen Bagg
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
THE PONY PUT HER TWO FOREFEET OVER THE EDGEOF THE DESCENT.]
Across the Mesa
ByJARVIS HALL
AUTHOR OF "THROUGH MOCKING BIRD GAP"
Frontispiece byHENRY PITZ
THE PENN PUBLISHINGCOMPANY PHILADELPHIA1922
COPYRIGHT1922 BYTHE PENNPUBLISHINGCOMPANY
Across the Mesa
Made in the U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I Why Not? 7 II Athens 14 III En Route 30 IV Juan Pachuca 48 V Polly Arrives 65 VI Local Activities 80 VII Miss Chicago 97 VIII The Prisoner 109 IX At Liberty 126 X The Discovery 142 XI Casa Grande 159 XII A Night Ride 179 XIII The Wagon 188 XIV The Trail 208 XV Angel 222 XVI Tom Does a Marathon 238 XVII At Soria's 251 XVIII Back to Athens 276 XIX Polly Makes a New Acquaintance 283 XX Treasure Trove 303
ACROSS THE MESA
CHAPTER I
WHY NOT?
Polly Street drove her little electric down Michigan Boulevard, withbitterness in her heart.
It was a cold wet day in the early spring of 1920, and Chicago was doingher best to show her utter indifference to anyone's opinion as to whatspring weather ought to be. It was the sort of day when, if you had anyambition left after a dreary winter, you began to plot desperate things.
Polly hated driving the electric--her soul yearned for a gas car. Mrs.Street, however, did not like a gas car without a man to drive it; the sonof the family was in Athens, Mexico, at a coal mine; and Mr. Street, Sr.,considered that his income did not run to a chauffeur at the present scaleof wage. Therefore, Polly tried to forget her prejudice and to imaginethat the neat little car was a real machine.
Second among her grievances was the fact that this was Bob's wedding dayand she, his adored and adoring sister, was not with him. Bob had beenengaged for some months to a girl in Douglas, Arizona. The date of thewedding had been set twice and each time difficulties in Mexico had madeit seem unwise either that Bob should leave Athens, where he held theposition of superintendent of one of Fiske, Doane & Co.'s mines, or thatthe bride should venture into the disturbed region.
This time they expected, as Bob wrote, to "pull it off on schedule." Pollyhad hoped either to go to Douglas for the wedding or to have the bride andgroom in Chicago; but Father had been unable to get away, Mother hadn'tbeen well, and the trip had been given up. Then the young couple plannedto go immediately to Athens without the formality of a honeymoon. To quoteBob again: "People go on honeymoons to be lonesome, and if anybody canfind a better place to be lonesome in than Athens, let him trot it out."
The third grievance held an element of publicity particularly galling to ayoung lady who was known to her friends not only as a daring horsewoman, acrack swimmer and a golf champion, but as a bit of a belle besides. Sheand Joyce Henderson had agreed a week ago to break their engagement. Theengagement had been a mistake--both young people admitted it frankly toeach other. The irritating part of it was that Joyce was admitting it tothe world.
Instead of taking the matter seriously and considering himself, outwardlyat least, as the victim of an unhappy love affair, Joyce had escortedanother girl, who shall be nameless, for she does not enter this storyexcept as an element of conflict, to the Mandarin Ball. Now the MandarinBall is not the frivolous affair that its name suggests, but a perennialof deep importance, a function to which young men are in the habit oftaking their wives, their fiancees, or the girls they rather hope may betheir fiancees. It is one of the few social affairs left of the oldorder.
Thus you can see that it was a pointed action on Joyce's part; anindication that he regarded himself as a free man, and after the habit offree men was about to put on new chains. It was humiliating, to say theleast. During the war the engagement had seemed quite natural, quite apart of things. All the young people were engaged--except those who weremarried.
"That, at least, I had sense enough not to do!" raged Polly, as shenarrowly missed a pedestrian's heel.
It is hard for older people to realize how important it is at twenty-threeto be doing exactly what others are doing; the absolute anguish of beingthe only man in the A. E. F. without a wife or sweetheart, or the onlygirl at home without a soldier husband or lover. A bit of suchunderstanding would make clear not only the number of divorces and brokenengagements which resulted from the war and had their share in theproduction of the unrest of the times, but would also elucidate a goodmany other happenings to youth.
So much for Polly Street and Joyce Henderson, who were fortunate enough tofind out before marriage that they were unsuited for each other. Polly,however, preferred to look upon the dark side. Joyce had behaved like acad.
"And the worst of it is that everybody will say it serves me right," shewent on to herself, "just because I've flirted a bit here and there. It'snot my fault if people never turn out as I expect them to. I guess I'mlike Grandfather Street was in his religion. He thought the Baptists werewonderful until he joined them and then the Presbyterians looked moreinteresting to him. After he'd been with them a while he couldn't see howanybody could be a Presbyterian, so he joined the Unitarians. Peoplethought he was a turncoat, but he wasn't--he was just a sort of religiousMormon. One church wasn't enough for him.
"Oh dear, I wish I'd gone to Douglas alone! Bob would understand. Ibelieve I'll go to Athens. Why not? It's safe enough or Emma's parentswouldn't let her go. Of course it's a bit soon after their wedding, butI'll be tactful and keep out of their way."
The light of determination was in Polly's dark eyes. They were big lovelyeyes that looked at you wistfully from under arched brows. They seldomlaughed or twinkled and the nose that kept them company was equallysedate, being purely aquiline, but a mouth with dimpled corners upset thescheme entirely, while ripples of golden brown hair completed the pictureof a healthy, happy youngster--not radiantly beautiful but what peoplelike to call "winsome," which is after all as good a word as most.
She parked the electric on the Lake Front and crossed the Boulevard. Thepoliceman on the crossing nodded to her and she smiled at him. Polly hadwhat her father called a "stand in" with the force. It was unnecessary,for she was a good driver when her feelings were not agitated, but therewas something about policemen that appealed to her. They were so big andpink and forceful that you felt rather important when they nodded toyou--a bit after the fashion of a man who is recognized by the headwaiter.
She was still smiling when she entered the building in which was located aclub to which she belonged. It was a serious-minded club of clever women,and most people had been amused when Polly Street joined it. Nobodyexpected serious-minded things of Polly, though here and there someone waswilling to admit that she was "clever enough in her way."
Finding the writing-room empty, Polly sat down to write a letter. Severaltimes in her career she had decided upon courses of procedure which hadseemed to her eminently practical, only to be talked out of them by herfamily. This time she would take no such chances. She would write to Bob,and Bob, being much like her, understood her--as well at any rate as anybrother understands a sister. Then she would go over to the bank and getsome money on her Liberty Bonds. Polly was as usual broke, Mr. Streetbeing a man who provided credit liberally for his family but who hadlearned from experience that money was safer in his own hands.
A trip to the ticket office to make reservations and the thing would bedone. A vague remembrance that Mexico was a place which demanded passportsupon entrance came into her mind but was dismissed airily. Father wouldattend to that. The fact that Mexico was a troublous region where anAmerican girl might meet with a good many disagreeable adventures was asairily dismissed. All that anyone needed to go anywhere, according toPolly's simple code, was common sense and money. The first she had, thesecond she intended to get, so why worry?
As she sat at the writing-table a slightly martial air came over Polly.Bob must be made to understand the situation. Because a man took it uponhimself to dwell in or on a coal mine, Polly was never quite sure of thephrase, in the remote Southwest, he was not absolved from all familyduties. The fact that he had married the handsomest girl in Arizona andwas indulging in a honeymoon need not prevent an oppressed sister fromdemanding sympathy. She wrote rapidly.
"DEAR BOB:
"I know it's awfully nervy of me to drop in on you and Emma right at thebeginning of your honeymoon, but I am coming just the same. JoyceHenderson has behaved atrociously to me. I'll explain when I see you. Youneedn't show this to Emma; you can read her scraps of it."
Polly paused. A mental picture of Emma, demure and pretty, came beforeher. Bob Street was a lucky man to have found a girl like Emma. A dreamylook succeeded the martial one. Visions of a flower-bedecked hacienda--wasthat what they called them, it didn't sound exactly right--surrounded bypeons dozing in the sun succeeded the dimpled vision of Emma. Polly drewher ideas of Mexico entirely from the movies, Bob's short letters beingquite lacking in atmosphere. She saw herself leaning over a balcony,listening to the strains of a mandolin, played by a tall, slim youth, whoresembled a composite photograph of several of her favorite movie idols.Poor Joyce Henderson, how unimportant he seemed by the side of thatradiant vision! Polly scribbled furiously.