CHAPTER XXIX
"THE PANHANDLE--PAST AND PRESENT"
Jackleg was in holiday attire. It was a raw Western settlement, it wastrue; but there was more business ambition and public spirit in theplace than in half a dozen Eastern towns of its population.
The schoolhouse was a long, low structure, seating as many people as theordinary town hall. It was situated upon a flat bit of prairie on theoutskirts of the town. Rather, the town had grown from the schoolhouseto the railroad station, on either side of a long, dusty street.Railroads in the West do not go out of their way to touch immaturesettlements. The settlements have to stretch tentacles out to the placewhere the railroad company determines to build a station.
This was so at Jackleg, but it gave a long vista of Main Street from theheart of the town to its outlying suburbs. This street was now gay withflags and bunting, while there were many arches of colored electriclights to burn at night.
Almost before the plans for the pageant had been formed, the businessmen of Jackleg had subscribed a liberal sum to defray expenses. As theplans for the entertainment progressed, and it was whispered about whata really fine thing it was to be, more subscriptions rolled in.
But Captain Dan Rugley had deposited a guarantee with the Committee thathe would pay any debts over the subscriptions received, thereforeFrances and her helpers had gone ahead along rather lavish lines.
The end wall of the school building had been actually removed. Theframework of the wall was rearranged by the carpenters like theproscenium arch of a stage, and a drop of canvas faced the spectatorswhere the teacher's desk and platform had been.
Behind the schoolhouse was a vacant lot. This had been surrounded with ahigh board fence. The enclosure made the great stage for the spectaclewhich the Jackleg people, the ranchers and farmers from around about,and the visitors from Amarillo and other towns, had come to see.
At the back of this enclosure, or stage, was a big sheet, or screen, onwhich moving pictures could be thrown. On a platform built outside, andover the open end of the building, were two moving picture machines withoperators who had come on from California where some of the pictures hadbeen made by a very famous film company.
Some of the pictures had been made in Oklahoma, too, where onepublic-spirited American citizen has saved a herd of the almost extinctbison that once roamed our Western plains in such numbers.
At either side of the fenced yard behind the schoolhouse stood theactors in the spectacle--both human and dumb--with all theparaphernalia. A director had come on from the film company to stage theshow; but the story as developed was strictly in accordance with FrancesRugley's "plans and specifications."
"She's a wonder, that little girl," declared the professional. "She'dmake her mark as a scenario writer--no doubt of that. I'd like to gether for our company; but they say her father is one of the richest menin the Panhandle."
Pratt Sanderson, to whom he happened to say this, nodded. "And one ofthe best," he assured the Californian. "Captain Dan Rugley is a nobleold man, a gentleman of the old school, and one who has seen the Westgrow up and develop from the times of its swaddling clothes until now."
"Wonderful country," sighed the director. "Look at its beginnings almostwithin the memory of the present generation, and now--why! there's halfa hundred automobiles parked right outside this show to-night!"
Captain Dan Rugley secured a front seat. He was as excited as a boy overthe event. He admitted to Mrs. Bill Edwards that he hadn't been to a"regular show" a dozen times in his life.
"And I expect this is going to knock the spots out of anything I eversaw--even the Grand Opera at Chicago, when my wife and I went on ourhoneymoon."
The young folks from the Edwards ranch were scattered about the oldCaptain. Sue Latrop had assumed her most critical attitude. But Sue hadbeen wonderfully silent about Frances and her father since the dinnerdance.
That occasion had turned out to be something entirely different fromwhat the girl from Boston expected. In the first place, her younghostess was better and more tastefully--though simply--dressed than anyof her guests.
Her adornments had been only a crescent in her hair and a brooch; butSue had been forced to admire the beauty and value of these. BesideFrances, the other girls seemed overdressed. The range girl had dignityenough to carry off her part perfectly.
Under the soft glow of the candles in the wonderful old candelabra, towhich the Captain referred as "a part of the loot of Senor Morales'_hacienda_," Frances of the ranges sat as hostess, calmlybeautiful, and governing the course of the dinner without the leasthesitancy or confusion.
She looked out for every guest's needs and directed the two Mexican boysand Ming in their service with all the calmness and judgment of ahostess who was long used to dinner parties. Indeed, Sue Latrop wasforced to admit in her secret soul that she had never seen any hostessmanage better at an entertainment of this kind.
At the upper end of the table, the old Captain fairly beamed hishospitality and delight. He kept the boys in a gale of laughter, and thegirls seemed all to enjoy themselves, too. Critical Miss Latrop couldthrow no wet blanket upon the proceedings; to tell the truth, her sourface was quite overlooked by the other guests, and about all theattention she attracted was when Mrs. Bill Edwards asked her if she hadthe toothache.
"No, I have no toothache!" snapped Sue. "I don't see why you shouldask."
"Well, my dear," said the lady, soothingly, "something must surely bethe matter. I never saw a person at dinner with so miserable acountenance. Does something pinch you?"
Yes! it was Sue's vanity pinching her, if the truth were known. Herdiatribes about Frances and the old Captain were not to be easilyforgotten by the girl from Boston. Not so much was she smitten becauseof her unkindness; but she felt that she had played the fool!
Her friends from Amarillo must be quietly laughing in secret over whatSue had said regarding the uncouthness of the Captain and the lack ofbreeding of the "Cattle Queen." Sue felt that she had laid herself opento ridicule, and it did hurt Sue Latrop to think that her young friendswere laughing at her.
As for the dinner, that was a revelation to the girl from Boston. Theservice, if a bit odd, was very good. And the silver, cut glass, napery,and all were as rich as Sue had ever seen.
After the dinner, and the other guests began to arrive, and the bandstruck up behind the palms in the inner court of the _hacienda_,Sue continued to be surprised, though she failed to admit it to herfriends.
It was true the boys came up from the bunk-house without evening dress.But their black clothes were clean and well brushed, and those who worethe usual kerchief about their necks sported silk ones and carried theirbullion-loaded sombreros in their hands.
And they could all dance. Sue refused the first few dances and tried tosit and look on in a superior way; but she presently failed to make goodat this.
When the kindly old ranchman considered her a wall-flower and came andbegged her to "give him a whirl," Sue had to break through her "icyreserve."
Although they did not dance the more modern dances, she found thatCaptain Rugley knew his steps and was as light on his feet as a man halfhis age.
"I have given Mr. Rheumatism the time of his life to-night!" declaredthe owner of the Bar-T brand. "That's what I told Frances I would do."
And Captain Rugley suffered no ill effects from the dance, as was shownby his appearance here at the Jackleg schoolhouse to-night, when thecanvas curtain slowly rolled up to reveal first the painted curtainbehind it, on which was a picture of the meeting of Cortez and the Aztecprinces soon after the Conqueror's arrival in Mexico.
The school teacher read the prologue, and the spectators settled down tolisten and to see. His explanation of what was to follow was bothconcise and well written, and the whisper went around:
"And she's only a girl! Yes, Miss Rugley wrote it all."
Sue sniffed. The teacher stepped back into the shadow and the paintedcurtain rolled up.
There was a gasp o
f amazement when the audience saw what was revealedbehind the painted sheet. One of the moving picture machines was alreadyrunning, and on the great screen was thrown a representation of thestaked plains of the Panhandle as they were in the days before the whiteman ever saw them.
Far, far away appeared a band of painted and feather-bedecked Indians,riding their mustangs, and sweeping down toward the immediate foregroundof the picture with a vividness that was almost startling.
Into that foreground was drifting a herd of buffaloes. They started, thebulls giving the signal as the enemy approached, and the end of thatsection was the scampering of the great, hairy beasts, with the Indiansin full chase, brandishing their spears.
Immediately the scene changed and a train of a different kind broke intoview in the dim perspective. The moving figures grew clearer as themoments passed. Over a similar part of the staked plain came theexploring Spaniards, with their cattle and caparisoned horses, theirenslaved Aztecs, their priests bearing the Cross before.
The moving procession came closer and closer until suddenly the whirringof the picture machine stopped, a great searchlight was turned upon thedusky yard between the screen and the open end of the school building,and with a gasp of amazement the audience saw there the double of theprocession which had just been pictured on the moving picture screen.
The actors in this part of the pageant crowded across the desert, werestopped by a stampede of Indian ponies, and later made friends of thewondering savages.
From this point on the history of the Panhandle developed rapidly. Thespectators saw the crossing of the plains by the early pioneers, both inpicture and by actual people, a train of prairie schooners drawn byoxen, and a sham battle between the pioneers and the Indians.
The buffaloes disappeared from the picture and the wide-horned cattletook their place. A picture of a famous round-up was shown, and then areal herd of cattle was driven into the enclosure (they wore the Bar-Tbrand) and several cowboys displayed their skill in roping and tying.
The curtain was dropped, there was a swift change, and it arose again ona hastily-built frontier town--a town of one-story shacks with two-storyfalse fronts, dance and gambling halls, saloons, a pitiful hotel, andall the crude and ugly building expressions of a raw civilization.
"My mighty!" gasped Captain Dan Rugley. "That's Amarillo--Amarillo as Ifirst saw it, twenty-five years ago."
People appeared in the street, and rough enough they were. A band ofcowpunchers rode in, with yells and pistol shots. The rough life of thatearly day was displayed in some detail.
And then, after a short intermission, pictures were displayed again ofgreat droves of cattle on the trail, bound for the shipping points;following which came pictures of the new wheat fields--that march of theagricultural regime that is to make the Panhandle one of the wealthiestsections of our great country.
A great reaper was shown at work; likewise a traction gang-plow and amotor threshing machine. The progress in agriculture in the Panhandleduring the last half dozen years really excited some of the olderresidents.
"Did you ever see the beat of that?" demanded Captain Rugley. "I'm blestif I wouldn't like to own one of them. See those little dinguses turn upthe ribbons of sod! I don't know but that Frances can encourage me to bethat kind of a farmer, after all! There's something big about riding areaper like that one. And that threshing machine, too! Did you see thestraw blowing out of the pipes as though a cyclone was whirling it away?
"By mighty! I wish Lon could have been here to see this, I certainlydo!"
For the last time the curtain was lowered and then rose again. On thescreen was pictured Amarillo as it is to-day.
First a panorama of the town and its outskirts. Then "stills" of itsprincipal buildings, and its principal citizens.
Then the main streets, full of business life, autos chugging, electriccars clanging back and forth, all of the bustle of a modern town that isgrowing rich and growing rapidly.
The contrast between what the spectators had seen early in the spectacleand this final scene made them thoughtful. There had been plenty ofapplause all through the show; but when "Good-night" was shown upon thescreen, nobody moved, and Pratt raised the shout for:
"Miss Rugley!"
She would not appear before the curtain save with the other members ofthe committee. But the cheering was for her and she had to run away tohide her blushes and her tears of happiness.
"Wake up, Sue, it's over!" exclaimed one of the other girls, shaking theyoung lady from Boston.
Sue Latrop came to herself slowly. She had never realized the Spirit ofthe West before, nor appreciated what it meant to have battled for andgrown up with a frontier community.
"Is--is that all true?" she whispered to Pratt.
"Is what all true?" he asked, rather blankly.
"That there have been such improvements and changes here in so fewyears?"
"You bet!" exclaimed Pratt, with emphasis.
"Well--re'lly--it's quite wonderful," admitted Sue, slowly. "I had noidea it was like that!"
"So you think better of our 'crude civilization,' do you?" laughed oneof her girl friends.
"Why--why, it is quite surprising," said Sue, again, and still quitebreathless.
"And what do you think of our Frances?" demanded Mrs. Bill Edwards,proudly. "There's nobody in Boston's Back Bay, even, who could do betterthan she?"
And Sue Latrop was--for the time being, at least--completely silenced.
CHAPTER XXX
A REUNION
There had been a delay on the railroad caused by a washout; thereforeJonas Lonergan and Mr. Decimus Tooley, the chaplain of the BylittleSoldiers' Home, did not arrive at Jackleg in time for the night of thespectacle of the Pageant of the Panhandle.
But the party from the Bar-T Ranch, after the show was over and Francesand the Captain had both been congratulated, rode down to the station tomeet the belated train to which was attached the special car CaptainRugley had engaged for the service of his old partner and the minister.
With the Bar-T party was Pratt, although he proposed going back to theEdwards ranch that night. He wanted to get away from the crowd ofenthusiastic and excited young people who had accompanied Mr. and Mrs.Bill Edwards into town to the show.
This train that was stopping to cast loose the special car at Jacklegwas the last to stop at that station at night. Some few of thespectators of the pageant would board it for stations farther west; sothere was a small group on the station platform.
The young folk, Pratt and Frances, sighted the headlight up the track.They were walking up and down the platform, arm in arm and talking overthe successful completion of the play, when they spied it.
"It's coming, Daddy!" cried Frances, running into the station to warnthe old Captain.
To tell the truth, he had been leaning back against the wall--in a hardand straight-backed chair, of course--taking a "cat-nap." But he awokeinstantly and with all his senses alert.
"All right, Frances--all right, my girl," he said. "I'm with you.Hurrah! My old partner will be as glad to see me as I am to see him."
But when the train rolled in there was some delay. The special car hadto be shunted onto the siding before Captain Rugley could go aboard.
"Come on, Frances," urged her father, as eager as a boy. He ran acrossthe tracks and Frances dutifully followed him. Pratt remained on theplatform and looked rather wistfully after her. Their conversation hadbeen broken off abruptly. He had not had an opportunity to say all thathe wanted to say and he was to go back to Amarillo the next day.
He saw the Captain and his daughter climb the steps, helped by the negroporter. They disappeared within the lighted car. Pratt still lingered.His pony was hitched up the street a block or so. There really wasnothing further for him to wait for.
Suddenly shadows appeared on a curtain of one section of the car. Theshade flew up and the window was raised.
The young man from Amarillo stood right where the lamplight fell uponhis features
. He found himself staring into the face of a grey-visaged,sharp-eyed old man, who had a great shock of grey hair on the top of hishead like a cockatoo's tuft.
The stranger stared at Pratt earnestly, and then beckoned him with bothhands, shouting:
"Hey, you boy! You there, with the plaid cap. Come here!"
Rather startled, and not a little amused, Pratt started slowly in thedirection of the car.
"Hey! Lift your feet there," called out the old man. "You act like youhad the hookworm. Git a move on!"
"What do you want?" demanded Pratt, coming under the window. He couldsee into the lighted car now, and he observed Frances and her fatherstanding back of the stranger, the Captain broadly agrin.
The man reached down suddenly and grabbed Pratt by the lobe of his rightear--pinching it between thumb and finger.
"Say! what are you about?" demanded Pratt. But for a very good reason hedid not seek to pull away.
"Let me look at you again," commanded the man who had taken thisliberty. "Turn your face up this way--you hear me? My soul! I knew Icouldn't be mistaken. What did you say this boy's name was, Dan?" heshot at the Captain over his shoulder.
"That's Pratt Sanderson," chuckled Captain Rugley. "Something of atenderfoot, but a good lad, Lon, a good lad."
"You bet he is!" declared Jonas P. Lonergan, vigorously. "I knew hisname when you spoke it, and now I know his face. He's the image of hismother--that's what he is."
Then he turned to Pratt again and roared: "Do you know who I am, boy?"
"I fancy you are the--the old partner of Captain Rugley whom he hasexpected so long," Pratt said, puzzled but smiling. He had never chancedto hear the expected guest called by any other name than "Lon."
"I'm Jonas P. Lonergan!" exclaimed the old man. "_Now_ do you knowme. I'm your mother's half-brother. I knew you folks lived out this waysomewhere, but I've not seen you since you were a little shaver.
"But I'll never forget how my little half-sister used to look, and youare just like her when she was young," declared Mr. Lonergan. "Come inhere, you young rascal, and let me get a closer look at you."
"My Uncle Jonas?" gasped Pratt, in amazement.
"That's what I am!" declared Mr. Lonergan. "Your old uncle who never didmuch of anything for you--or the rest of the fam'ly--all his life. Buthe's goin' to be able to do something now.
"Listen here: Captain Dan Rugley says the treasure chest old SenorMorales gave us so long ago is all right. It's chock-full of jewels andgold and money---- Shucks! I'm as crazy as a child about it," laughedthe old man.
"After bein' through what I have, and livin' poor so many years, it'senough to scatter the brains of an old man like me to come into afortune. Yes, sir! And what's mine is yours, Pratt. They tell me you area mighty good boy. Captain Dan speaks well of you----"
"And I ought to," growled the old ranchman from the background. "I owesomething to him, too, for what he did for Frances."
"Heh?" exclaimed Lonergan. He turned short around and stared at theblushing Frances. "She's a mighty fine girl, I reckon?"
"The best in the Panhandle," declared the old ranchman, noddingunderstandingly.
"And this boy of my sister's is a pretty good fellow, Dan?" askedLonergan.
"Mighty fine--mighty fine," admitted Captain Dan Rugley.
"I tell you what," whispered Jonas, in the Captain's ear, "this dividin'up the contents of that old treasure chest will only be temporary afterall--just temporary, eh?"
"We'll see--we'll see, Lon," said Captain Dan, carefully. "They're youngyet, they're over-young. But 'twould certain sure be a romantic outcomeof all our adventures together years ago, eh?"
"Right you are, Captain, right you are!" agreed Lonergan.
Frances and Pratt heard none of this. Pratt had entered the car and thetwo young people were talking to the Reverend Mr. Tooley, who was ademure little man in clerical black, who seemed quite happy over thereunion of the two old friends, Captain Dan Rugley and Jonas P.Lonergan.
Lonergan was a lean old man who walked with a crutch. Although he had avery vigorous voice, he showed his age and his state of ill health whenhe began to move about.
"But we'll fix all that, Lon," the Captain assured him. "Once we get youout to the Bar-T we'll build you up in a jiffy. We'll get you out ofdoors. Humph! soldiers' home, indeed! Why, you've got a long stretch oflife ahead of you yet. I've beat out old Mr. Rheumatism myself theselast few weeks.
"We'll fight our bodily ills and old age together, Lon--just as we usedto fight other enemies. Back to back and never give up or ask forquarter, eh?"
"That's the talk, Dan!" cried the other old fellow.
But Mr. Lonergan was glad to ride out to the Bar-T in thecomfortably-cushioned carriage that Mack Hinkman had driven to town. Theparty arrived at the ranch-house--Mr. Tooley and all--after daybreak.The Captain had insisted upon Pratt's going, too.
"What?" Lonergan demanded. "_You_ a bank clerk, looking out throughthe wires of a cage like a monkey in the Zoo we saw years ago at KansasCity?"
"That _is_ a nice job for your nephew, hey Lon?" put in theCaptain.
"Drop it, boy, drop it. You're the heir of a rich man now--isn't thatso, Captain?"
"That's so," agreed Captain Dan Rugley. "He'd better write in to hisbank and tell 'em to excuse him indefinitely; and write to his mother tocome out here and visit a spell with her brother. The Bar-T's bigenough, I should hope--hey, Frances? What do you say?"
"I am sure it would be nice to have Pratt's mother with us. I'd bedelighted to have somebody's mother in the house, Daddy," said Frances,smiling. "You know, you're the best father that ever lived; but youcan't be mother, too."
"It's what you've missed since you were a tiny little girl, Frances,"agreed Captain Rugley, gravely. "But just the same--I want 'em to showme a girl in all this blessed Panhandle that's a better or finer girlthan my Frances. Am I right, Pratt?"
"You most certainly are, Captain," the young man agreed. "Or anywhereoutside the Panhandle."
Frances smiled at him roguishly. "Even from Boston, Pratt?" shewhispered.
But Pratt forgave her for that.
* * * * *
Another picture of the Bar-T ranch-house on a late afternoon. Theslanting rays of a westering sun lie across the floor of the mainveranda. The family party idling there need no introduction save in asingle particular.
A tall, well-built lady in black, and with grey hair, and who looks somuch like Pratt Sanderson that the relationship between them could beseen at a glance, has the chair of honor. Mrs. Sanderson is making herfirst of many visits to the Bar-T.
Old Jonas P. Lonergan, his crutch beside him, is lying comfortably inanother lounging chair. But he already looks much more vigorous.
Captain Dan Rugley, as ever, is tipped back against the wall in hisfavorite position. Frances is with her sewing at a low table, whilePratt is lying on the rug at his mother's feet.
"What's that Mr. Tooley said in his letter, Frances?" asked Pratt. "Ishe sure the man who was killed on the railroad when he went home fromhere was a man named Pete Marin, who once was orderly at the soldiers'home?"
"Yes," said Frances, gravely. "He was walking the track, they thought.Either he was intoxicated or he did not hear the train. Poor fellow!"
"Blamed rascal!" ejaculated Jonas P. Lonergan.
"He made us some trouble--but it's over," said Pratt.
"You showed what sort of stuff you were made of, young man," said theCaptain, thoughtfully, "at that very time. Maybe you've got something tothank that Pete for."
"And Ratty M'Gill?" asked Pratt, smiling.
"Poor Ratty!" said Frances again.
"He's gone down to the Pecos country," said the Captain, briskly. "Bestplace for him. Maybe he will know enough not to get in with such fellowsas that Pete again."
"I should have been much afraid had I known what Pratt was getting intoout here," Mrs. Sanderson ventured.
"Now, now, Sister! Don't try t
o make a mollycoddle out o' the boy," saidJonas P. Lonergan. "I tell you we're going to make a man out o' Pratthere. I've bought an interest in the Bar-T for him. He's going to takesome of the work off the Captain's shoulders when we get him broke in,hey, Dan?"
"Right you are, Lon!" agreed the other old man.
Frances smiled quietly to hear them plan. She put her needle in and outof the work she was doing slowly. By and by her fingers stoppedaltogether and she looked away across the ranges.
She, too, was planning. She was seeing herself living in a college townthe next winter, with daddy for company, while Mr. Lonergan and Prattand his mother remained on at the Bar-T.
She saw herself graduating after a few years from some advanced school,quite the equal of Pratt in education. Meanwhile he would be learning tochange the vast Bar-T ranges into wheat and milo fields, and taking upthe new farming that is revolutionizing the Panhandle.
And after that--and after that----?
"How about Ming bringing us a pitcher of nice cool lemonade, eh,Frances?" said the Captain, breaking in upon her day-dream.
"All right, Daddy. I'll tell him," said Frances of the Ranges.
THE END
Frances of the Ranges; Or, The Old Ranchman's Treasure Page 29
