CHAPTER XX

  ON POINT LOMA

  Next morning a beautiful bunch of roses was brought to Myrtle'sroom--roses so magnificent that it seemed impossible they could begrown out of doors. But there are few hothouses in California, and theboy who brought the flowers confided to her the information that theywere selected from more than five hundred blooms. She ran to show themto Patsy and Beth, who were amazed not only by the roses but by thefact that the queer Mr. Jones had sent them to Myrtle. There was nocard or note accompanying the gift, but after the younger girl hadrelated her conversation with Mr. Jones the previous evening, theycould not doubt but he had sent the flowers.

  "Perhaps," reflected Patsy, "we've been misjudging him. I never beheldsuch a stolid, unimpressive countenance in my life; but the man musthave a soul of some sort, or he would not think of sending flowers tohis new friend."

  "It's a pretty idea," said Beth. "He wanted to assure Myrtle that heappreciated her kindness."

  "I'm sure he likes me," declared Myrtle, simply. "He wasn't a bitcross when I ran in and took away his pistol, or when I preached tohim. I really gave him a good talking to, and he didn't object a bit."

  "What he needs," commented Beth, "is to get away from himself, andmingle with people more. I wonder if we could coax him to join us inour ride to Point Loma."

  "Would we care to ask him?" said Patsy. "He's as sour and crabbed inlooks as he is in disposition, and has treated Uncle John's advancesshamefully. I'd like to help Myrtle bring the old fellow back to life;but perhaps we can find an easier way than to shut him up with us inan automobile."

  "He wouldn't go, I'm sure," declared Myrtle. "He has mellowed alittle--a very little--as these roses prove. But he treated me lastnight just as he does Mr. Merrick, even after our conversation. WhenI said 'Good night' I had to wait a long time for his answer. But I'dlike you to meet him and help cheer him up; so please let me introducehim, if there's a chance, and do be nice to him."

  "I declare," cried Patsy, laughing, "Myrtle has assumed an air ofproprietorship over the Sad One already."

  "She has a right to, for she saved his life," said Beth.

  "Three times," Myrtle added proudly. "He told me so himself."

  Uncle John heard the story of Myrtle's adventure with considerablesurprise, and he too expressed a wish to aid her in winning Mr. Jonesfrom his melancholy mood.

  "Every man is queer in one way or another," said he, "and I'd say thewomen were, too, if you females were not listening. I also imagine avery rich man has the right to be eccentric, if it pleases him."

  "Is Mr. Jones rich, then?" inquired Beth.

  "According to the landlord he's rich as Croesus. Made his money inmining--manipulating stocks, I suppose. But evidently his wealthhasn't been a comfort to him, or he wouldn't want to shuffle off hismortal coil and leave it behind"

  They did not see the object of this conversation before leaving forthe trip to Point Loma--a promontory that juts out far into thePacific. It is reached by a superb macadamized boulevard, which passesdown the north edge of the promontory, rounds the corner where standsthe lighthouse, and comes back along the southern edge, all the time ahundred feet or more in elevation above the ocean.

  The view from the Point is unsurpassed. Wampus stopped his car besidea handsomely appointed automobile that was just then deserted.

  "Some one is here before us," remarked Patsy. "But that is notstrange. The wonder is that crowds are not here perpetually."

  "It is said," related the Major, who had really begun to enjoyCalifornia, "that the view from this Point includes more variedscenery than any other that is known in the world. Here we see thegrand San Bernardino range of mountains; the Spanish Bight on theMexican shore; the pretty city of San Diego climbing its hills, withthe placid bay in front, where float the warships of the PacificSquadron; the broad stretch of orange and lemon groves, hedged withtowering palm trees; Santa Catalina and the Coronado Islands; the bluePacific rolling in front and rugged Loma with its rocky cliffs behind.What more could we ask to see from any one viewpoint?"

  "Don't forget the monster hotel, with its hundred towers and gables,dominating the strip of land between the bay and the ocean," addedBeth. "How near it seems, and yet it is many miles away."

  Some one had told them that moonstones were to be found on the beachat the base of the cliff; so they all climbed down the steep path,followed by Mumbles, who had not perceptibly grown in size during thetrip but had acquired an adventurous disposition which, coupled withhis native inquisitiveness, frequently led him into trouble.

  Now, when they had reached the narrow beach, Mumbles ran ahead, passedaround the corner of a cliff that almost touched the water, and waspresently heard barking furiously.

  "Sounds as if he scented game," said Patsy.

  "A turtle, perhaps, or a big fish washed ashore," suggested the Major.

  But now the small dog's voice changed suddenly and became a successionof yelps expressing mingled pain and terror.

  "Oh, he's hurt!" cried Myrtle; and they all hurried forward, UncleJohn leading them on a run, and passed around the big rock to rescuetheir pet.

  Some one was before them, however. The foolish dog had found a hugecrab in the sand and, barking loudly, had pushed his muzzle againstthe creature, with the result that the crab seized his black nose ina gripping claw and pinched as hard as it was able. Mumbles tried toback away, madly howling the while; but the crab, although the smallerantagonist, gripped a rock with its other claw and held on, anchoringthe terrified dog to the spot.

  But help was at hand. A tall, thin man hurried to the rescue, and justas Uncle John came in sight, leading his procession, a knife severedthe crab's claw and Mumbles was free. Seeing his mistress, the puppy,still whining with pain, hurried to her for comfort, while Uncle Johnturned to the man and said:

  "Thank you, Mr. Jones, for assisting our poor beast. Mumbles is anEastern dog, you know, and inexperienced in dealing with crabs."

  Mr. Jones was examining the claw, the despoiled owner of which hadquickly slid into the water.

  "It is a species of crawfish," he observed, meditatively. Then, seeingthe girls approach, he straightened up and rather awkwardly lifted hishat.

  The gesture surprised them all. Heretofore, when they had met, the manhad merely stared and turned away, now his attempt at courtesy wasstartling because unexpected.

  Myrtle came close to his side.

  "How nice to find you here, Mr. Jones," she said brightly. "And oh, Imust thank you for my lovely roses."

  He watched her face with evident interest and it seemed that his owncountenance had become less haggard and sad than formerly.

  "Let me introduce my friends," said the girl, with sudden recollectionof her duty. "This is Mr. Merrick, my good friend and benefactor; andthis is Major Doyle and his daughter Miss Patricia Doyle, both of whomhave the kindest hearts in the world; Miss Beth De Graf, Mr. Merrick'sniece, has watched over and cared for me like a sister, and--oh, Iforgot; Miss Patsy is Mr. Merrick's niece, too. So now you know themall."

  The man nodded briefly his acknowledgment.

  "You--you are Mr. Jones, I believe, of--of Boston?"

  "Once of Boston," he repeated mechanically. Then he looked at her andadded: "Go on."

  "Why--what--I don't understand," she faltered. "Have I overlookedanyone?"

  "Only yourself," he said.

  "Oh; but I--I met you last night."

  "You did not tell me your name," he reminded her.

  "I'm Myrtle," she replied, smiling in her relief. "Myrtle Dean."

  "Myrtle Dean!" His voice was harsh; almost a shout.

  "Myrtle Dean. And I--I'm from Chicago; but I don't live there anymore."

  He stood motionless, looking at the girl with a fixed expression thatembarrassed her and caused her to glance appealingly at Patsy. Herfriend understood and came to her rescue with some inconsequent remarkabout poor Mumbles, who was still moaning and rubbing; his pinchednose against Patsy's chin to ease the
pain.

  Mr. Jones paid little heed to Miss Doyle's observation, but as Myrtletried to hide behind Beth Mr. Merrick took the situation in hand bydrawing the man's attention to the scenery, and afterward inquiring ifhe was searching for moonstones.

  The conversation now became general, except that Mr. Jones remainedpractically silent He seemed to try to interest himself in the chatteraround him, but always his eyes would stray to Myrtle's face and holdher until she found an opportunity to turn away.

  "We've luncheon in the car," announced Uncle John, after a time."Won't you join us, Mr. Jones?"

  "Yes," was the unconventional reply. The man was undoubtedlyabstracted and did not know he was rude. He quietly followed them upthe rocks and when they reached the automobile remained by Myrtle'sside while Wampus brought out the lunch basket and Beth and Patsyspread the cloth upon the grass and unpacked the hamper.

  Mr. Jones ate merely a mouthful, but he evidently endeavored to followthe conversation and take an interest in what was said. He finallybecame conscious that his continuous gaze distressed Myrtle, andthereafter strove to keep his eyes from her face. They would creepback to it, from time to time; but Beth, who was watching himcuriously, concluded he was making a serious effort to deport himselfagreeably and credited him with a decided improvement in manners astheir acquaintance with him progressed.

  After luncheon, when their return by way of Old Town and the SpanishMission was proposed, Mr. Jones said, pointing to the car that stoodbeside their own:

  "This is my automobile. I drive it myself. I would like Myrtle Dean toride back with me."

  The girl hesitated, but quickly deciding she must not retreat, now shehad practically begun the misanthrope's reformation, she replied:

  "I will be very glad to. But won't you take one of my friends, also?That will divide the party more evenly."

  He looked down at his feet, thoughtfully considering the proposition.

  "I'll go with you," said Beth, promptly. "Get into the front seat withMr. Jones, Myrtle, and I'll ride behind."

  The man made no protest. He merely lifted Myrtle in his arms andgently placed her in the front seat. Beth, much amused, took the seatbehind, unassisted save that the Major opened the door for her. Mr.Jones evidently understood his car. Starting the engines withouteffort he took his place at the wheel and with a nod to Mr. Merricksaid:

  "Lead on, sir; I will follow."

  Wampus started away. He was displeased with the other car. It didnot suit him at all. And aside from the fact that the sour-facedindividual who owned it had taken away two of Wampus' own passengers,the small shaggy Mumbles, who had been the established companion ofUncle John's chauffeur throughout all the long journey, suddenlydeserted him. He whined to go with the other car, and when Patsylifted him aboard he curled down beside the stranger as if thoroughlysatisfied. Patsy knew why, and was amused that Mumbles showed hisgratitude to Mr. Jones for rescuing him from the crab; but Wampusscowled and was distinctly unhappy all the way to Old Town.

  "Him mebbe fine gentleman," muttered the Canadian to the Major; "butif so he make a disguise of it. Once I knew a dog thief who resemblehim; but perhaps Mumble he safe as long as Miss Myrtle an' Miss Beththey with him."

  "Don't worry," said the Major, consolingly. "I'll keep my eye on therascal. But he's a fine driver, isn't he?"

  "Oh, _that_!" retorted Wampus, scornfully. "Such little cheap car likethat he drive himself."

  At Old Town Mr. Jones left them, saying he had been to the Mission anddid not care for it. But as he drove his car away there was a gentlerand more kindly expression upon his features than any of them had everseen there before, and Myrtle suspected her charm was working and theregeneration really begun.