Jane Allen, Center

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER II--TELLTALE TIDINGS

  The letter which Jane had so counted on, had just now shed itsdelightful news, and at last she knew who had won the scholarship.Winding herself tighter still in the big wicker chair, so that sheseemed a veritable circle of pink organdie, she snuggled the yellowpages closer in her prettily browned hands, read a few lines over forthe n'th time and finally, with a spring and a sprint, made her wayback to the living room.

  Uncle Todd was evidently well pleased with his story of the Welchauction, for the palpitating cane was throbbing up and down in hissinewy hand, and Aunt Mary had completely laid aside her knitting, andsat with hands folded at attention.

  "I would call it a shame," she commented as Jane entered.

  "And you'd give it the right name," replied Uncle Todd.

  At the threshold Jane hesitated. Even to her youthful eyes there wassomething restful in the picture.

  "Good old pals," she said under her breath. "Aunt Mary knows how toentertain reclining years." Then picking up Bonnie, her ebony kitten,she coughed respectfully.

  "Good news?" asked Aunt Mary.

  "The best ever. Where is dad? I hate to give it to him second handed."

  "Your father will not be back till dinner time, dear. He is overLincoln way."

  "Then we will have to enjoy it in trio. You know what it is about,Uncle Todd?"

  "But, Janie girl, I've got to be a-goin'. Some chores and some cookin'to do, and if I don't get at it in good time I'm apt to slip it by.Good afternoon, ladies," he finished quite grandly. "Can't tell when Ihad sech a fine time."

  "But you can't go now, Uncle Todd," objected Jane. "I am going to driveyou over."

  "No sich thing. If I don't keep a-walkin' my jints will gum up: I amgoin' to walk."

  "Oh, if you must," said Jane with the foolish social intonation. "Soawfully sorry."

  "Don't you jibe me, girlie," and he pinched her elbow. "You know aswell as I do what it is worth to walk a mile a day."

  "All right, Uncle Todd, but some day I am going to tell you all my goodnews. There comes Pedro. If you get tired just hail him, and he'll giveyou a lift."

  Then, left alone with her aunt, Jane proceeded with the news fromWellington.

  "Just see and listen," she commanded. "What a prospect of oodles of funand frolic. Dad's scholarship has been won by a Polish artist. Think ofit! A girl who plays the violin divinely, and who is--well, let's readit again."

  She ran her finger over the introduction of the letter and traced outthe lines which told of the Polish girl and the scholarship.

  "Mrs. Weatherbee says," she announced, "that the girl is wonderfullyinteresting, and she is sure we shall be delighted. We are. Then shesays the little artist comes from a girls' seminary, where she had beenleft uncalled for and that there is some mysterious story connectedwith her presence in America, but of course, (now listen in Auntie) ofcourse, Mrs. Weatherbee knows I will not be carried off by any suchsensational reports, but I will take the little Polish girl on hermerits. Of course I shall, I shall even take her on trial, but you canpicture the other girls, and the Polish artist? Auntie, that MarionSeaton will get in touch with the Bolshevik or something, to dig uptrouble for my little friend, see if she doesn't. She will go into thearchives of the fall of Poland, and the battle of Warsaw, to find outthat my little artist's grandfather once dropped his musket in front ofthe king's palace. Oh my, Auntie mine," and she loosed some of herpent-up energy in a great "grizzly hug." "Why can't you and dad comealong to school with me to see the fun?" For a moment her gray eyestook on the lingering look her friends called "the dove stare," thenrecovering her mirthful mood she pranced around, played first withBonnie, then with Fliver the new puppy, all the while gathering andspending the joy of young girlhood.

  "Don't bother too much about my clothes, Auntie dear," she warned witha new thought. "I think I shall ask dad if I may go to the city early,and help fit up my little artist. Then I may find a lot of things Ishall like, all ready to wear."

  "I had been thinking of proposing that, Janie dear," confessed theaunt, to whom the clothes problem had been an increasing worry with theaddition of Jane's years. "I have read all the catalogues and sent formore, but I don't find exactly what I think you would fancy."

  "No, and you won't, for I fancy a blouse and a skirt, just a littleone, and perhaps a veil for evening wear." She held Fliver out at arm'slength to enjoy the joke. "Of course, I would wear a so-called gownwith the veil, but I love the veil, it is so shimmery." A scarfsnatched from the end of the mahogany table served to illustrate the"shimmer" as Jane floated it triumphantly over her and Fliver's heads.The inevitable interpretative dance followed, and Fliver looked veryfrightened, evidently envying Bonnie her safety aisle on the rug.

  "I am going to get your trunk out to-morrow," announced Aunt Mary, asan interlude. "I want to put some cedar chips in it, and Squaw Watahbrought over a wonderful bunch of fragrant herbs, spice bush, savoryand rosemary. I wonder where she raised them? She must have obtainedsome government seeds."

  "Watah is a real farmerette," agreed Jane, coming to a standstillagainst the oaken post. "I would recommend her for a position in theDepartment of Agriculture. Ta, ta, Auntie, I'm off to get dad. I thinkhe will be over the Copper Turn Hill about now, and I'll ride Fireflyto be back with him. I am just dying to tell him the news."

  "Janie, do be careful going down that steep hill. The boys who camecollecting tin cans the other day told me the rocks fall in a torrentthere now."

  "Oh, I know. I'll be 'keer-ful.'" The voice came from the second stairlanding. Jane Allen was on her way.

  She reached her own horse and it took but a few gallops to bring her upto Mr. Allen.

  "Do you suppose she will have light wavy hair, and very big blue eyes,Daddy? The aristocratic Poles are always light," was among the firstquestions.

  "But I wouldn't classify them by eyes and hair exactly," replied theman on Victor, the big gray horse. "I've known a really fine Pole whowas quite red headed."

  "Now Daddy, don't tease. You know a girl must be--well, a little bitpretty at least, to be popular, and I am bound to have my artistwonderfully popular--after we win the battle, of course."

  "I can well imagine the battle," and Henry Allen laughed so heartilyVictor darted forward with a prance. "If your erstwhile friends, whomade up the opposition last year, line up against your protege asvigorously as they attacked your other little friend, I am afraid youwill take more time to train your guns on endurance, than on yourfavorite basketball, daughter."

  "Indeed, Judy Stearns and I, and maybe Dorothy Martin, are very wellable to hold our own against the Marian Seaton crowd," answered Jane,bringing Firefly's head up higher in punctuation. "I rather think theywill not be quite so vigorous with their campaign of hate this year. Ishould think even envious girls would learn their lesson some time."

  "I have often thought the same of the boys I have to deal with outhere, but it is curious how envy sticks."

  Pencils of sunset were now etching their path through the trees, andthe well tramped road bore slight evidence of the afternoon's shower."Daughter, I hate to have you go," continued Mr. Allen, "but yourspirit makes me proud. Uncle Todd was telling the men out Lincoln waythe other day, that Henry Allen's girl was almost as good as a boy."

  "Oh, he is a character!" Jane exclaimed. "I had him over during theshower, and he and Aunt Mary had a great time gossiping. Dad, may I goto New York a little early? That is, quite early," she qualifiedcautiously.

  "Of course, daughter. But why the haste?"

  "Well, you see, about this new girl--she will have to be fitted out.Mrs. Weatherbee hinted she would get some friends interested in her whomight help, but it seems to me I could make my allowance do for both ofus."

  "You just get what you want, little girl. Don't worry about the bill.Old dad has still some credit, you know."

  Even Firefly tried to edge closer to respond gratefully. Jane tippedher little whip under her father's chin, thereby endanger
ing the tiltof his cap. "You are always so generous, Dad. Couldn't I gather tincans to sieve the copper through, or do something to make up?" sheasked playfully. "Really, if I am almost as good as a boy, don't youthink I might sometime act the part?"

  "You are a heap better, little girl, and I have no wish to see you actotherwise than just as my Janie," replied the smiling father. "Butthose boys you have just noticed gathering the tins are wasting theirtime. No more copper comes this way in the mine water. All their rustytins will be wasted, for Montana copper is being too well worked thesedays," declared Mr. Allen, referring to the tin-can trick of collectingcopper through the cyanide method.

  "Oh, how disappointed they will be! Should we tell them?" suggestedJane, observing at that moment the group of boys trudging along withtheir cart of old tins.

  "Well, they may get some farther on, but not around here," amended Mr.Allen. "By the way, Janie, when do you want to start with this new planof shopping and college trip?"

  Jane looked under her long lashes to discover, if possible, how herfather felt about her leaving earlier than they had planned. But he wasflicking Victor with the willow whip, and she obtained no clue to hisfeelings from his expression.

  Jane hated to be so abrupt--of course he would be lonely.

  "Oh, I thought I might leave about ten days earlier," she ventured."That will give me time to locate the Polish girl, get acquainted, andhelp with her outfit. Besides, Aunt Mary suggested that I buy some ofmy things ready-to-wear, as it is so difficult here to shop by mailfrom St. Paul."

  "That would be about when?" persisted the father.

  "About next Wednesday."

  "Very well, girlie. Just so long as I know how many signed checks toget ready, and how many men to assign to the baggage."

  Jane looked relieved. Her father plainly had come to the sameconclusion she had managed to confine her reasoning to, namely: sinceshe couldn't bring the Eastern college to El Capitan, she would have togo to the college, and that protesting against the details ofseparation from her beloved ranch home, simply threw a shadow over theprospect of a joyful year at school.

  "We are getting educated, Janie," Mr. Allen said, as they pulled up tothe waiting groom. "Old dad takes the school term as a matter of coursenow. Not that I don't miss my little girl as much as ever, but becauseI have taken the home course in economics--the grade that gives us allthe discipline and the self control," he laughed at this attempt toqualify his change of mental attitude. He was a wonderful father, aperfectly adorable pal, and withal a business man whose name spelledpower and prosperity.

  "Dad, all the same I'm a weakling," admitted Jane. "Because I just hateto leave you--and----"

  "There's a special messenger boy all the way from Copper Hill Turn,"interrupted the father. "Now what do you suppose he is bringing us inthe way of good news?"

  The Mexican boy slipped off his burro and with an indescribable salute(something between a military motion and an acrobatic finish to someremarkable star act) he handed the message to Mr. Allen.

  "Yours, daughter. Whoever is writing you from over the hills and whatcan be so very important as to fetch Santos?" asked Mr. Allen.

  "All our wonders seem to come by post," commented Jane. She wasscanning the few words on the telegram sent in from the nearest railwaystation. Suddenly she gave a jump, and seemed too overcome with emotionto express herself in words.

  "Daddy!" she exclaimed, finally. "Judy is on her way back from thecoast and is looking for us. She is at the Hill Turn. Oh, can youimagine Judy Stearns getting way out here, and being with me on thetrip to college!"

  "Rare luck indeed, daughter. At the station did you say? Well, let usget to her at once. Can't take a chance on her getting into that famousstage coach of Curly Bill's. You run in and tell Aunt Mary the gladnews, and I'll get the tandem hitched. Don't you think it will be niceto show her our best style?"

  "Oh, lovely, Daddy. But I am so excited. I never could have dreamed ofsuch luck. To have dear old Judy visit me here until I go back, andthen to have her travel with me! Yes, get the tandem. Pedro!" shecalled to the man just losing himself in the trees towards the bigstable. "Come over here! Daddy, don't you slick up a single bit. I wantJudy to see you as a ranch chief. And I think I'll get into my BroncoBillie outfit just to show off. No, that wouldn't go with tandem, wouldit? Yes, it would too," she changed her mind and decided again, tooexcited to act rationally.

  "Now, I'll dress and be ready in five minutes," announced the girl."Oh, I forgot I haven't told you the message," she had it crumbled inher brown hand. "'Am at the Hill Turn Station. Tell me how to reachyou.' There, we will show her how we reach her," and she skipped offleaving her father to arrange about the tandem and the high red-wheelcart.