The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge

by Margaret Vandercook

  CHAPTER XIX.

  NO NEWS.

  WEEKS passed and there was no word from Olive. The ranch girls hadalmost ceased to talk of her return. They had begun to lose hope.

  Immediately after Frank Kent and Jack left him, on the day of theround-up, Jim Colter had gone to the Indian village, but he could findno trace of Olive there. Curiously enough old Laska had disappeared fromher hut several days before, so she could scarcely be held responsiblefor the lost girl. She had said nothing of where she was going nor whenshe expected to return. In Indian fashion, she had departed silently,carrying only a bundle strapped across her back.

  Josef would give no information. Jim tried him with threats and bribes,but the boy insisted he knew nothing of Olive. He had not seen her inmany weeks. It was useless to try to make an Indian betray a secret hemeant to keep and Jim Colter knew better than to waste his time. TheIndian is as suspicious and reticent to-day as he was in the old days,when no kind of torture ever wrung a sound from him.

  Advertisements were inserted in the papers in the nearby towns, but nogirl answering to the description of Olive was ever reported. She hadvanished as completely as though she were dead. By and by Jim Coltergave up the search. He did not believe that they would ever see theIndian girl again.

  Frank Kent kept quietly at work. He was very rich, and without a word toanyone, offered a reward for Olive's return, so large that had Laskaseen it and had she had Olive in her possession, she must surely havegiven her up. Frank came often to Rainbow Lodge. The girls no longerthought of him as the guest and relative of their bitterest enemy, andthe name of the Nortons was never mentioned between them. He used totake Jean and Frieda and Cousin Ruth off on long excursions to keep themamused, but Jack would rarely go with them. She seldom left the ranchand spent the greater part of the time alone, refusing to talk either ofOlive or the prospect of losing Rainbow Ranch, which loomed nearer witheach passing day. Jack was polite to Cousin Ruth, but she neverexpressed any penitence to her or to Jim for her wilfulness, whichseemed to be responsible for Olive's loss. But daily Jack grew paler andthinner. She seemed much older and quieter than the radiant beautifulgirl who had been the ruling spirit of the entire ranch. Everyone whoknew her worried over the change in her, and most of all Ruth, whowondered if she were not somehow to blame for the whole disaster. If shehad not opposed Jack's going to the round-up, Jim would have taken Jackwith him and Olive would not have left the Lodge.

  Jean and Frieda bore their troubles differently. Sometimes they wouldtalk of Olive and again of the loss of their home and Jean would weeppassionately for a few minutes and Frieda would cry softly. But theywould soon cheer up and be convinced of Olive's immediate return and thediscovery of the lost deed to the ranch. Jean even suggested that theyneed not perish if the ranch were taken away from them. She was quitesure she would be able to work and support herself and possibly Frieda.And for once Jack laughed, for, as she explained to her cousin, she andJean knew nothing in the world except how to ride horseback, and ranchgirls though they were, they could hardly be expected to join a circus.

  But no one interfered with Jack. She took her long rides alone in spiteof the cold weather, for they seemed to be the only things that wouldquiet her restlessness. When she was in the house, she was eithersearching in every conceivable crack and corner for the lost title deed,or else gazing listlessly out of the window.

  One clear, frosty morning, Jack came in to an early breakfast, wearingher riding habit.

  "You won't mind if I am away from the ranch all day to-day, CousinRuth?" she inquired quietly. "I would rather not say where I am going,but I shall be in no danger and I shall be home before dark."

  Jean waved her fork pettishly in the air. "What in the world are you upto, Jacqueline Ralston?" she demanded. "Frieda and I awfully wanted youto go over to Aunt Sallie's for the day with us. You knew she had askedus and Cousin Ruth can't go, because she won't learn to ride horseback.I should think you would be tired of mysteries and secrets by thistime, I am sure I am. Rainbow Lodge didn't use to be like this. It isthe most changed place I ever saw," Jean sighed mournfully. But Jackmade her no answer and waited until Ruth agreed to her request.

  By ten o'clock, Ruth Drew was alone at the Lodge. The day began early atthe ranch, as the winter twilights soon closed in and there were nolights but the stars to guide the wanderers over the prairies.

  Ruth had assured the girls she would not be lonely. She had lots of workto do and letters to be written to the people at home. But somehow Ruthdid not feel in the mood for any of her tasks. She was astonished atherself. Already the old village life in the East seemed far away;Rainbow Lodge and the vast, primitive West meant home to her now.

  Outdoors the world looked utterly deserted. There was not a leaf, nor ablade of green grass visible, not a human being, nor an animal in sight,except old Shep, who howled dismally at having been left at home by theranch girls.

  Ruth slipped into a heavy old coat and went for a walk up and down thefrozen fields in front of Rainbow Lodge. Old Shep kept close beside her,with his warm nose thrust in her hand. There were many things Ruthwished to think about and it would be easier to see clearly and to knowwhat was best in the open air.

  Ruth was exceedingly vexed with the overseer of Rainbow Ranch. What wasto become of Frieda, Jean and Jack, in case they were forced to give uptheir home at the beginning of the New Year? Jack had confided to Ruththat they owned six thousand dollars in bank, beside the stock on theirplace. But Jack had no ideas for their future, and Mr. Jim Colter hadnot seen fit to discuss with their chaperon any plans that he might havefor the girls. Of one thing Ruth was determined, whatever happened, shewould stay with the girls. She had a little money and she could earn herliving as a teacher if it were necessary, but the ranch girls should notface the world alone. Nevertheless, Mr. Colter should explain affairs toher more fully. It was all very well for him to argue that Rainbow Ranchcould not fall into other hands. He should look at both sides of thequestion. Ruth had not seen the overseer, except for a few minutes at atime, since the evening before the round-up. He certainly had nottreated her with proper respect.

  The longer Miss Ruth Drew thought of her grievances, the angrier shegrew. Of course there was nothing personal in the matter, but as thegirls' chaperon, she deserved more consideration.

  Ruth's cheeks were glowing by this time, partly from the cold air, butquite as much from temper. She had changed a good deal. Her complexionwas certainly not sallow. She no longer wore her glasses, except whenshe wished to read, and her smooth hair was now blowing becomingly abouther face under an old felt hat of Jean's carelessly put on.

  But Ruth was not being altogether honest with herself; she did have alittle private spite against Jim. He had promised to teach her to ridehorseback weeks before and he had never referred to the subject again.She dearly wished to learn. She had wanted to ride over to return Mrs.Simpson's call and had only pretended an indifference to Jean, becauseshe did not intend in any way to remind Mr. Colter of his forgottenpromise.

  Ruth saw Jim riding up the road that led to the Lodge and drawingherself up, gave him a stiff little bow. Of course she had known allalong that a cowboy could not be a gentleman, but Jim had struck her asbeing rather superior, in spite of his bad grammar. However, no manworth the name broke a promise to a woman. Ruth turned her back on therider and continued her walk with her head in the air.

  Jim reined up in front of the frosty young woman. "Good morning," hesaid in rather an embarrassed fashion.

  The lady's manner was not encouraging. "Good morning," she repeatedseverely, "I suppose you wanted to see one of the girls, but they areall away from the ranch."

  Jim shook his head slowly, staring at Miss Ruth Drew with a puzzledfrown. He had not the faintest idea why she was so haughty, and clearinghis throat, continued to stare at her without a word until the silencegrew more and more embarrassing.

  Ruth's cheeks grew redder. She was irritated by Jim's silence and theexpression of his eyes,
which were as blue and direct as a young boy's.

  "Do you want to leave a message for one of the girls or to speak to AuntEllen or Zack?" Ruth inquired irritably.

  But still Jim did not speak.

  "For heaven's sake, tell me, what do you want, Mr. Colter?" Ruthdemanded. And suddenly Jim laughed.

  "Well, I thought I wanted to speak to you, Miss Drew," he drawled in hisslow, good-humored fashion. "But perhaps I had better not. I kind ofthought maybe you would like me to give you a riding lesson thismorning, but I can see now you wouldn't. I have been trying to get oneof the ranch ponies broke in for you ever since I heard you wanted tolearn to ride and now I have got a little broncho that is just about asgentle as a kitten. But, so long, maybe you'll be feeling more like itanother day."

  Jim rode calmly away, leaving Ruth looking as young and foolish as across child.

  She did want a horseback lesson to-day of all days, when she was aloneand a little blue. Ruth ran after Jim, entirely forgetting her dignity.

  "Mr. Colter, please wait," she called. "I do want to learn to ride,dreadfully, and I should be awfully glad to have you show me how thismorning, if you don't think I would be too much of a chump."

  "Chump!" Ruth's ears burned. Jean's favorite word, "chump," had slippedout of her lips as unconsciously as though she had never been a NewEngland school marm with a perfect horror of slang. She wondered if theranch overseer had noticed her break.

  When Jim turned and smiled down on Miss Drew, she was no longer thesuperior person he had just left.

  "You'll learn to like it better in Wyoming, once you can ride," heanswered kindly. "Why, when the spring comes, our barren prairiesblossom like a rose and the birds are about everywhere. The ranch girlswant you to get fond of it out here. There ain't any feeling much worsethan being homesick for the things you left behind you. Now run alongand rig yourself up in some kind of a riding habit of the girls. I willhave the pony waiting by the time you are ready."

  Ruth rushed into the house, wondering why she felt so absurdly young andhappy all at once.

  The young chaperon did not acquire the art of learning to ridehorseback in a single lesson. But Jim was far too sweet-tempered to lether know that she was the hardest pupil he ever tried to teach. Both themaster and pupil were elated when Ruth finally managed to sit straightin her saddle, without slipping to either side, and to hold her reinswhile the pony walked sedately up and down with Jim at his head.

  Late that afternoon, Ruth was sitting alone by the living-room window.It was growing dark. The day had been a tiring one and she was feeling atiny bit depressed. Jack cantered up to the house, gave her pony over totheir colored man, and without so much as a glance at Ruth, strode pastthe living-room into her own room and closed the door behind her.

  Ruth sighed. It did seem to her that Jack might have come in to speak toher, thinking that she had been by herself all day. Ruth was beginningto make up her mind that it was an utterly hopeless desire that she andJack should ever be friends. Jack was so reserved and unapproachable andso bent on having her own way.

  Ruth did not expect Frieda and Jean to return for another hour. Mrs.Simpson had promised to send some one over with them, so they could havea longer visit with her. It was growing spooky in the living-room, withonly the dancing shadows of the fire. Aunt Ellen had forgotten to bringin the lamp and Ruth started toward the kitchen down the wide hall.

  Outside Jack's door she heard a queer noise that startled her. It was astrange choking sound, as though some one were in pain. Ruth listened.The sound was not repeated, but the room was in perfect darkness and shebecame vaguely uneasy. She did not understand Jack's disposition. Thegirl had been so quiet and unhappy since Olive's disappearance and Ruthwondered what Jack was doing in the dark alone.

  A knock on the door brought no answer and Ruth tried again.

  "What is it?" a stifled voice asked.

  "Won't you let me come in, Jack?" Ruth urged, feeling her uneasinessincrease.

  "I would much rather you wouldn't, I prefer to be alone," Jack repliedin her habitual frigid tones. But Ruth heard a queer little catch at theend of her sentence that was unfamiliar.

  Ruth had her hand on the doorknob and without waiting for permission sheturned it and walked into Jack's room. "I think it is my duty to come into you, Jack," she explained, in her self-righteous, lady-governesstones that Jack so much disliked.

  The room was in almost total darkness and Ruth could catch only a faintoutline of Jack's figure, drawn up in its usual proud pose. But to-nighther head was drooping. The fire had burned out in the grate, except fora few colored ashes, but Ruth found paper and wood and soon brought itto a blaze. She said nothing and Jack neither moved nor spoke. But Ruthcaught one glimpse of Jack's face, when the firelight leaped up into theroom.

  She found an old eiderdown wrapper in the closet and pushed a low chairnear the fire, putting the warm grey gown over Jack's rigid shouldersand pushing her softly toward the chair.

  "There, dear, sit down by the fire," Ruth said gently. "I did not meanto intrude on you and I will leave you by yourself, but you must try andnot let yourself get ill because you are miserable. There may be a lot,you know, that you must do for Frieda and Jean."

  Ruth could see that Jack had lost her self-control and was tremblingwith nervousness and cold, and turned to leave her, but Jack held out ashaking hand.

  "Please don't go yet, Ruth," she pleaded, as though she were one girltalking to another. "There is something I want to try to tell you if Ican."

  Ruth sat quietly down. She realized all at once how much harder it isfor some people to say the things they feel, than it is for others.

  "It's about Olive," Jack declared after an instant. "I have been over tothe Norton ranch to-day. I brought myself to ask a favor of Mr. Norton.I asked him to let me speak to the Indian boy, Josef, who works on hisranch. Mr. Norton consented, if I would allow him to stay in the roomwhile I talked. Of course he thought I wanted to play him some trickabout the ranch." Jack spoke indifferently. "I offered Josef everythingI had in the world, a hundred dollars father once gave me and my shareof my mother's jewelry, if he would only tell me what had become ofOlive. He wouldn't tell." Jack shook her head despairingly. "I ambeginning to believe Olive is dead."

  "I don't think so, Jack, somehow, though I don't know," Ruth returnedgravely.

  "I suppose there is something I ought to say to you, Cousin Ruth," Jackcontinued quietly. "I ought to tell you and Jim that I am sorry that Iwent off to the round-up against your wishes. Of course I am sorry, itseems almost foolish for me to speak of it. I don't want to ask you toforgive me, because of course I shall never think of forgiving myselffor losing Olive, no matter how long I live."

  Ruth took hold of Jack's cold fingers. Jack spoke with perfectself-control, but Ruth began dimly to understand something of herdisposition.

  All at once, Jack's calmness gave way. She began to sob, as though shewere torn in pieces. "Oh, Cousin Ruth, won't Olive come back ever? Iused to think that having to give up our ranch would be the mostdreadful thing that could happen, but now I don't. Olive was so gentleand so timid. I thought I was going to protect and take care of her asthough she were Frieda, but instead of that it was I who led her intodanger."

  Ruth and Jack talked quietly after this, until Jean and Frieda camehome. Ruth had entirely lost her school-teacher manner and forgot topreach.

  Jack's reserve having once broken down, she told Ruth all she hadsuffered in silence for the past few weeks.

  Though Ruth and Jack might have many conflicts of their two strong willsin the future, they would never misunderstand each other so completelyas they had done in the past.

  SOMEONE CREPT UP BEHIND HER WITH THE STEALTHINESSPOSSIBLE ONLY TO AN INDIAN.]