CHAPTER FORTY A MYSTERY SOLVED
Miss Bayley could not understand why the Martin children did not come toschool that afternoon, for she had seen the snow-plow pass by and knewthat the road was open. So anxious did she become that she dismissed thethree pupils who were there, at two o'clock. Then, donning her warmwraps, she started walking down the highway toward the canyon.
The air was clear and sparkling. The girl-teacher felt as though shecould run and shout, as the children did, but, fearing that she mightshock Mrs. Enterprise Twiggly, she waited until she was on the downwardtrail and out of sight of the inn, then she flung her arms wide and sanga glad song of her childhood.
"Oh, but it's good to be alive!" she said as she turned into the narrow,well-shoveled trail leading to the cabin. Just then a breeze, onmischief bent, perhaps, tossed a heavily-laden pine bough above her headand a small avalanche of snow crashed down upon her. Laughingly, sheshook herself as best she could.
The snow had knocked her cherry-colored tam awry, and had loosened herhair, which curled at the ends and clustered about her ears and on herneck. With cheeks flushed and eyes brimming with mirth, the girl-teachertapped upon the door of the cabin. No one answered, and she pushed itopen and found herself facing a strange young man who, wrapped well inblankets, sat in the big easy-chair close to the stove. How FrederickEdrington had longed to climb to the shelter of the loft when he hadseen the unwelcome guest passing the window, but there had not beentime.
For one terrorized moment he had feared that, when the door opened, hewould behold either his aunt or the dreaded Marlita Arden. It was withan audible sigh of relief that he beheld the vision of his dreams.
Miss Bayley was the more startled of the two. "Oh!" she exclaimed, asshe backed toward the door again. "I--I didn't know that the Martinchildren had company. I am so sorry--if--if I--" she hesitated.
The young man was the first to recover his presence of mind. "Youhaven't, Miss Bayley," he said with the smile that won friends for himamong rich or poor, young or old. "I assure you that you have done thevery nicest thing that you possibly could have done. I'm mighty glad tosee you again. I--"
"Again?" The girl-teacher was indeed surprised, and at once began tosearch her memory for the time of their former meeting. Surely she couldnot have forgotten the good-looking young man, who bronzed face, withits clear-cut features, plainly told that his life-work kept himout-of-doors.
"Pardon me for not rising, Miss Bayley, and please do slip off yourcloak and stay a while," he begged. "Dixie and the others have gone tothe Valley Ranch on an errand, but they will soon return."
Then, as he saw the puzzled expression in her eyes, the young mananswered her unspoken query. "Miss Bayley, you have never met me before,but I have heard my little friends speak of you so often that I feelwell acquainted with you."
Relieved, Josephine slipped off her fur-lined cloak and seated herself.For a moment she sat looking thoughtfully out of the window toward asnow-covered range that formed the other side of the wide canyon.
"May I hear about it?" the young engineer asked.
The girl smiled. "I was thinking of a queer old man who is camping up inthe mountains, and wondering how he has weathered the storm."
"Oh, indeed!" Mr. Edrington sat up as though interested. "Isthis--er--old man of whom you speak a particular friend of yours?"
The girl nodded, then laughed. "Well, at least I do feel friendly towardhim because he likes books. He has had two of mine, one on snakes andthe other a history."
Then, turning she asked a direct question: "Won't you tell me your name?It's hard to talk to a person and not call him anything."
The young engineer flushed. "I say, Miss Bayley," he apologized, "you'llthink I'm a regular boor, won't you? I--er--my name is--RattlesnakeSam."
The girl's amused laughter rang out, and though the listener wasrelieved, he was certainly puzzled.
"I was sure of it!" she said triumphantly. "You see what an excellentdetective I am."
"But, I say, Miss Bayley, this isn't very complimentary. I do know thatI need shaving, but Ken led me to believe that you thought RattlesnakeSam was an old, dry-as-dust professor, a sort of 'fossil,' and I--er--"Then the young engineer laughed in his hearty, boyish way. "Honestly,Miss Bayley, I didn't suppose I looked quite that old and fogyish." Thenthe query: "Do I?"
The girl shook her head, but her eyes still twinkled. "No-o!" sheconfessed almost reluctantly, "and I'm dreadfully disappointed in you. Iwas actually looking forward to meeting the snake professor who lookedlike--well, like Thoreau or Burroughs, as I fancied, and now--" Pausing,the girl tilted her head sideways and gazed at him critically and yetmerrily.
His good-looking bronzed face was expressive as he watched her, and hiseyes were telling how much he admired her. He wondered what she wouldsay.
"I believe I am disappointed in you," the girl declared, and yet in atone that did not quite carry conviction. "You're much too modern to bereal interesting."
The young man looked disconsolate. "Alas!" said he. "Fate seems to beagainst me." He glanced up hopefully. "I might grow a very long beard,Miss Bayley, if that would help to make me less modern and moreinteresting." Then, as she only laughed her reply, the young engineercontinued. "But you haven't told me what clues you possessed that ledyou to discover my supposed well-hidden identity."
Josephine looked at him searchingly. "Can men keep a secret?" sheinquired.
"Much better than boys can, or so I'm beginning to think," was thereply.
"No, you are wrong," Miss Bayley defended. "Ken didn't really tell. Infact, he doesn't know that he told at all. As I look back now upon ourconversations concerning the old man in the mountains, I realize thatKen did his very best to keep your secret, but he said such strangethings sometimes. He hasn't told,--not one word,--but one day when Ioffered him a penny for his thoughts, he said he was wishing somebodywould get married, and he seemed so doleful about it that my curiositywas aroused.
"Then, when I told him that I thought he was rather young to be amatch-maker, he confessed that what he was really wishing was that therewould be a blizzard, so that his friend Rattlesnake Sam would have toleave the mountains and come down and stay at their cabin.
"Well, the storm did come and so, too, did you. Wasn't the inference anatural one?"
The young man nodded. "It wouldn't take a Sherlock Holmes to unravelthat mystery," he began, and then paused, for he was sure the littleripple of laughter that he heard was prefacing a merry remark. Nor washe wrong, for Josephine continued: "There is one part, however, that Icannot understand. Whom do you suppose Ken wants to have married? If hehadn't mentioned it right in the very same breath with the blizzard, Iwouldn't be so curious."
"Your curiosity is quite natural, Miss Bayley, and it's going to becompletely satisfied," the young man said seriously. "I may need yourhelp almost any day now, and so you, too, may share the secret withDixie and Ken." Then he told the whole story, beginning with the makingof the mountain road, two years previous, and ending with his recentflight from the South and his reason for hiding.
To his surprise, his listener exclaimed: "Mr. Edrington, you are indeedto be congratulated upon your narrow escape. If you know Marlita Ardenas well as I do, you are then aware that what she needs most is varietyand admiration. I doubt if she would be the comrade sort of wife that Ibelieve you would want." Then, more seriously, "I do not dislikeMarlita, understand, but I would be sorry to have my brother Tim marryher."
The girl knew, by the listener's expression that she was amazing him.Nor was she wrong. Marlita Arden was a snob. She would not speak civillyto a woman who earned her own living, and yet this young school-teacherspoke as though she knew the Southern heiress well.
He could not ask how well, and no further information was volunteered.Miss Bayley had risen and was donning her cloak. "I must be going," shesaid, smiling at him, "for the dusk comes early these winter days."
T
he young man implored, "Miss Bayley, won't you come often? Have pity ona poor old fossil who's a shut-in."
"Perhaps! Good-by." The teacher looked radiantly young and beautiful asshe paused in the open door and smiled back at him.
"She's a princess of a girl," he thought; then he recalled his decisionto never fall in love, and he tried to harden his heart.
Dixie Martin, the Girl of Woodford's Cañon Page 41
