CHAPTER XX
THE BOSTON GIRL AGAIN
Frances warned Mack to say nothing about the hold-up at the ford. Thatwas certainly laying no cross on the teamster's shoulders, for he wasnot generally garrulous.
They put up at the hotel that night and Frances did her errands inAmarillo the next day without being disturbed by awkward questionsregarding their adventure.
Certainly, she was not obliged to go to the bank under the presentcircumstances, for there was no chest now to put in the safe-keeping ofthat institution.
Nor did Frances Rugley have many friends in the breezy, Western citywith whom she might spend her time. Two years make many changes in sucha fast-growing community. She was not sure that she would be able tofind many of the girls with whom she had gone to high school.
And she was, too, in haste to return to the Bar-T. Although she had lefther father better, she worried much about him. Naturally, too, shewished to get back and report to him the adventures which had marked herjourney to Amarillo.
She would have been glad to escape stopping at the Peckham ranch overthe third night; but she could not get beyond that point--the wagon nowbeing heavily laden; nor did she wish to remain out on the range atnight without a shelter tent.
The hold-up at the ford naturally made Frances feel somewhat timid, too.Mack was not armed, and she had only the revolver that she usuallycarried in her saddle holster and wouldn't have thought of defendingherself with it from any human being.
So she rode ahead when it became dark, and reached the Peckham ranch atsupper time, finding both a warm welcome and much news awaiting her.
"Glad to see ye back again, Frances," declared Mrs. Peckham. "We donebeen talking about you and your hold-up most of the time since you wentto Amarillo. Beats all how little it does take to set folks' tongueswagging in the country. Ain't it so?
"Well! that feller got clean away. And he took chest and all. Themfellers that went down stream found the old punt. But they never foundno place where he'd shifted the trunk ashore. And it must have beenheavy, Frances?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Must have been a sight of valuables in it," repeated Mrs. Peckham.
"What about those who went up stream?" asked Frances, quickly.
"There! your friend, Mr. Sanderson, didn't come back. He went on to Mr.Bill Edwards' place, so he said. He axed would you lead his grey pony onbehind your wagon to the Bar-T. Said he'd come after it there."
"Yes; of course," returned Frances. "But didn't he find any trace of therobber up stream?"
"How could they, Miss Frances, if the boat went down?" demanded Mrs.Peckham. "Of course not."
It was true. Frances worried about this. Pratt Sanderson had insistedupon leading a part of the searchers in exactly the opposite directionto that in which common sense should have told him the robber had gonewith the chest.
"Of course he would never have tried to pole against the current,"Frances told herself. "I am afraid daddy will consider thatsignificant."
She did not attempt to keep the story from Captain Dan Rugley when shegot back home on the fourth evening.
"Smart girl!" the old ranchman said, when she told him of themake-believe treasure chest she had carted halfway to Amarillo,burlapped, corded, and tagged as though for deposit in the city bank forsafe-keeping.
"Smart girl!" he repeated. "Fooled 'em good. But maybe you werereckless, Frances--just a wee mite reckless."
"I had no intention of trying to defend the chest, or of letting Mack,"she told him.
"And how about that Pratt boy who you say went along with you?" queriedthe Captain, his brows suddenly coming together.
"Well, Daddy! He insisted upon going with me because Ratty bothered me,"said Frances, in haste.
"Humph! Mack could break that M'Gill in two if the foolish fellow becamereally fresh with you. Now! I don't want to say anything to hurt yourfeelings, Frances; but it does seem to me that this Pratt Sanderson wastoo handy when that hold-up man got the chest."
It was just as the girl feared. She bit her lip and said nothing. Shedid not see what there was to say in Pratt's defense. Besides, in hersecret heart she, too, was troubled about the young fellow fromAmarillo.
She wondered what the robber at the ford thought about it when he gotthe old trunk open and found in it nothing but some junk and rubbish shehad found in the attic of the ranch-house. At least, she had managed todraw the attention of the dishonest orderly from the Bylittle Soldiers'Home from the real Spanish treasure chest for several days.
Before he could make any further attempt against the peace of mind ofher father and herself, Frances hoped Mr. Lonergan would have arrived atthe Bar-T and the responsibility for the safety of the treasure would belifted from their shoulders.
At any rate, the mysterious treasure would be divided and disposed of.When Pete knew that the Spanish treasure chest was opened and thevaluables divided, he might lose hope of gaining possession of thewealth he coveted.
A telegram had come while Frances was absent from the chaplain of theSoldiers' Home, stating that Mr. Lonergan would start for the Panhandlein a week, if all went well with him.
Captain Rugley was as eager as a boy for his old partner's appearance.
"And I've been wishing all these years," he said, "while you weregrowing up, Frances, to dress you up in a lot of this fancy jewelry. Itwould have been for your mother if she had lived."
"But you don't want me to look like a South Sea Island princess, do you,Daddy?" Frances said, laughing. "I can see that the belt and bracelet Iwore the night Pratt stopped here rather startled him. He's used toseeing ladies dressed up, in Amarillo, too."
"Pooh! In the cities women are ablaze with jewels. Your mother and Iwent to Chicago once, and we went to the opera. Say! that was a show!
"Let me tell you, there are things in that chest that will outshineanything in the line of ornaments that that Pratt Sanderson--or anyother Amarillo person--ever saw."
The girl was quite sure that this desire on her father's part ofarraying her in the gaudy jewels from the old chest was bound to makeher the laughing-stock of the people who were coming out from Amarilloto see the Pageant of the Panhandle.
But what could she do about it? His wish was fathered by his love forher. She must wear the gems to please him, for Frances would never doanything to hurt his feelings, for the world.
A good many of their friends, of course--people like good Mrs.Peckham--would never realize the incongruity of a girl being bedeckedlike a barbarian princess. But Frances wondered what the girl fromBoston would say to Pratt Sanderson about it, if she chanced to seeFrances so adorned?
She had an opportunity of seeing something more of the Boston girlshortly, for in a day or two Pratt Sanderson came over for the grey ponyhe had left at the Peckham ranch, and Frances had led back to the Bar-Tfor him.
And with Pratt trailed along Mrs. Bill Edwards and the visitors whomFrances had met twice before.
By this time Captain Dan Rugley was able to hobble out upon the veranda,and was sitting there in his old, straight-backed chair when thecavalcade rode up. He hailed Mrs. Edwards, and welcomed her and heryoung friends as heartily as it was his nature so to do.
"Come in, all of you!" he shouted. "Ming will bring out a pitcher ofsomething cool to drink in a minute; and San Soo can throw together aluncheon that'll keep you from starving to death before you get back toBill's place."
He would not listen to refusals. The Mexican boys took the ponies awayand a round dozen of visitors settled themselves--like a covey ofprairie chickens--about the huge porch.
Frances welcomed everybody quietly, but with a smile. She instructedMing to set tables in the inner court of the _hacienda_, as itwould be both cool and shady there on this hot noontide.
She noticed that Sue Latrop scarcely bowed to her, and immediately setabout chattering to two or three of her companions. Frances did not mindfor herself; but she saw that the girl from Boston seemed amused byCaptain Rugley's talk, and was no
t well-bred enough to conceal heramusement.
The old ranchman was not dull in any particular, however; before long hefound an opportunity to say to his daughter:
"Who's the girl in the fancy fixin's? That red coat's got style to it, Ireckon?"
"If you like the style," laughed Frances, smiling tenderly at him.
"You don't? And I see she doesn't cotton much to you, Frances. What'sthe matter?"
"She's Eastern," explained Frances, briefly. "I imagine she thinks I amcrude."
"'Crude'? What's 'crude'?" demanded Captain Dan Rugley. "That isn'tanything very bad, is it, Frances?" and his eyes twinkled.
"Can't be anything much worse, Daddy," she whispered, "if you are all'fed up,' as the boys say, on 'culchaw'!"
He chuckled at that, and began to eye Sue Latrop with more interest.When the shuffle-footed Ming called them to luncheon, he kept close tothe girl from Boston, and sat with her and Mrs. Bill Edwards at one ofthe small tables.
"I reckon you're not used to this sort of slapdash eating, Miss?"suggested Captain Rugley, with perfect gravity, as he saw Sue castingdoubtful glances about the inner garden.
The fountain was playing, the trees rustled softly overhead, a littlebreeze played in some mysterious way over the court, and from thedistance came the tinkle of some Mexican mandolins, for Frances hadhidden Jose and his brother in one of the shadowy rooms.
"Oh, it's quite _al fresco_, don't you know," drawled Sue."Altogether novel and chawming--isn't it, Mrs. Edwards?"
The neighboring rancher's wife had originally come from the Eastherself; but she had lived long enough in the Panhandle to have quiterubbed off the veneer of that "culchaw" of which Sue was an exponent.
"The Bar-T is the show place of the Panhandle," she said, promptly. "Weare rather proud of it--all of us ranchers."
"Indeed? I had no idea!" cooed the girl from Boston. "And I thought allyou ranch folk had your wealth in cattle, and re'lly had no time formuch social exchange."
"Oh!" exclaimed the Captain, "when we have folks come to see us wemanage to treat 'em with our best."
Sue was obliged to note that the service and the napery were dainty, andwhat she had seen of the furnishings of the darkened hall amazed her--asit had Pratt on his first visit. The food was, of course, good and wellprepared, for San Soo was "A Number One, topside" cook, as he would havehimself expressed it in pigeon English.
Yet Sue could not satisfy herself that these "cattle people" were reallyworthy of her attention. Had she not been with Mrs. Edwards she wouldhave made open fun of the old Captain and his daughter.
Frances of the ranges looked a good deal like a girl on a moving picturescreen. She was in her riding dress, short skirt, high gaiters,tight-fitting jacket, and with her hair in plaits.
The Captain looked as though he had never worn anything but the loosealpaca coat he now had on, with the carpet-slippers upon hisblue-stockinged feet.
"Re'lly!" Sue whispered to Pratt, as they all arose to return to thefront of the house, "they are quite too impossible, aren't they?"
"Who?" asked Pratt, with narrowing gaze.
"Why--er--this cowgirl and her father."
"I only see that they are very hospitable," the young man said,pointedly, and he kept away from the Boston girl for the remainder oftheir visit to the Bar-T ranch-house.
Frances of the Ranges; Or, The Old Ranchman's Treasure Page 20
