Aunt Jane's Nieces on the Ranch

  CHAPTER XVII--THE PRODIGAL SON

  With the added light that now came from the gratings in the ceilingevery object in the upper room was plainly visible. Runyon began hisinspection in a methodical manner, starting at one corner and eyeing theinner wall on every inch of its surface. He tested each block at itscorners and edges. The girls watched him listlessly, for they expectedno result, having covered the same methods themselves.

  At length Runyon was obliged to abandon the wall in despair.

  "The opening is there, of course," he said, "but that confoundedCristoval was too clever for us. If I had the rascal here now, I'dstrangle him!"

  As he stood in the center of the narrow space, looking around him, hiseye fell upon the upholstered seats ranged along one side and heregarded them suspiciously. They were box-like affairs, with the surfaceof the covers padded and cushioned.

  He reached down and lifted one of the lids. As he glanced within heuttered an exclamation of astonishment. The box was almost filled withbottles, lying regularly on their sides.

  "Wine!" he cried. "Now, Miss--I don't remember to have heard yourname--I shall be able to relieve your thirst."

  "My name is Travers--Mildred Travers, sir; but I can't drink wine."

  "Not to quench your thirst--just a few swallows?" he asked, taking abottle and trying to remove the cork.

  "Not a drop, even to save my life," she replied positively.

  "But I will, Senor Runyon--I will!" cried Inez eagerly.

  "Runyon!" exclaimed Mildred, stepping back in amazement and looking atthe man rather wildly.

  "Excuse me; haven't I introduced myself?" he asked, looking up. "Yes; myname's Runyon."

  Something in her expression arrested his gaze and he regarded the girlcuriously.

  "Bulwer Runyon?" she said in a low voice.

  He sat down on the box, holding the bottle between his knees.

  "They christened me that. Very foolishly, I think. But what do you knowof Bulwer Runyon?"

  "Your mother--is--Martha Runyon?"

  "To be sure--bless her heart! Ah, you know my mother, then, and that'show you have heard of me. But nothing good, from the dear old lady'slips, I'll be bound."

  "She really loves you," replied Mildred quickly; "only--you havedisappointed her."

  "Indeed I have. I've always disappointed her, ever since I canremember."

  "You were very extravagant," said Mildred in a reproachful tone.

  "Yes; that was my fault. Father spoiled me; then he died and left allhis fortune to mother. Quite right. But mother is pretty close with hermoney."

  "Did she not pay all your debts?"

  "Yes; but that was foolish. She reproached me for owing people, whichwas one of my pet recreations. So she paid the bills, bought me a ranchout here, shipped me into exile and washed her hands of me, declaringthat the ranch was my sole inheritance and I must never expect anothercent of her fortune. She proposes, I believe, to invest her surplus incharity. Nice idea, wasn't it?"

  "It was very generous in her," declared Mildred.

  "Was it? Well, that's a matter of opinion. But I regard her gift of thisranch as the first step to perpetual pauperdom. She tossed the land atme, shuffled me off, and then expected me to make a living."

  "Can't you do that?" asked Mildred wonderingly.

  "Make a living on a California ranch!" he said, as if astonished.

  "Others do," she asserted.

  "There is no other just like your humble servant," he assured her, againstruggling with the cork. "I can't grow enough lemons--it's a lemonranch she handed me--to pay expenses. The first year I decorated myestate with a mortgage; had to have an automobile, you know. The secondyear I put another plaster on to pay the interest of the first mortgageand a few scattering debts. Third year, the third patch; fourth year,the usual thing. Fifth year--that's this one--the money sharks balked.They said the ranch is loaded to its full capacity. So, I'll have tosell some lemons."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry!" cried Mildred.

  "So am I, thank you. Stupid thing, selling lemons. But the wolf's at thedoor and all I can do is shoot lemons at the brute. Lemons! Wasn't ittart of the dear mother to load me with such an acidulous estate?Perhaps she imagined it would make me assiduous--eh?"

  "Your mother hoped you would turn over a new leaf and--and redeem yourpast," said the girl.

  "Well, it's too late to do that now. I can't redeem the past withoutredeeming the ranch, and that's impossible," he declared with a grin."But tell me, please, how you happen to be so deep in my mother'sconfidence."

  Mildred hesitated, but reflected that she really owed him anexplanation.

  "She protected me when I was in trouble," she said softly.

  "Ah; that's like the dear old girl. Do you know, I've an idea that whenI'm down and out she'll relent and come to my assistance with a fattedcalf? It would be just like her. I've known of others she befriended.Her hobby is to help poor girls. There was that Leighton girl, forinstance, whose smuggling, murderous father was imprisoned for life. Thepoor little thing hadn't a friend in the world till mother took her inhand and put her in a training school for nurses. The mother wrote mehow interested she was in that case. Her protege did her credit, itseems, for the child turned out a very good nurse, who--who--"

  He suddenly paused, flushed red and stared at the girl uncertainly.

  "You say your name is--Travers?" he asked.

  "Yes," she replied, casting down her eyes.

  "Not--Leighton?"

  "Cannot you pull the cork, Senor Runyon? I am so thirsty!" cried Inezquickly, to save her friend from disclosing her secret. But big Runyonwas bright enough, in spite of his peculiarities. He read Mildred'sconfusion and suspected the truth, but was too considerate to press thequestion.

  "The cork is obstinate," said he; "so we won't argue with the thing,"and he struck the neck of the bottle against a corner of the seat andbroke it so neatly that not a drop of the contents was spilled. Then hetook a cup from the shelf and poured out some of the wine.

  "It's a native vintage," said he, "but it ought to be mellow and mildafter all the years it has lain here."

  Inez drank. The California Mexicans are accustomed to the native winesand consume them as freely as water. But Mildred, although again pressedto quench her thirst, steadfastly refused.

  Runyon took a little of the wine, for he also was thirsty, and then hemade an examination of the other seats. Some contained more wine; otherswere quite empty; but no water was discovered anywhere.

  "Now I shall go below," said Runyon, "and see if I can unearth anythingof importance there. Do you hear those dull sounds on the other side ofthe wall? They tell us that our friends are busy drilling the holes.It's wonderful how tough that adobe is."

  Little Jane had awakened again and Inez took baby Jane in her arms and,with Mildred, followed Runyon down the stairs into the lower chamber.Here they watched his careful inspection of the room but did not hopefor any favorable result.

  "Here is food," he announced, as, having given up the idea of findingegress, he came upon the cans of tomatoes and corn.

  "Yes; but we have no can-opener," replied Mildred; "and, unless thecontents were cooked, they would not be eatable."

  "I'm not thinking of the eatables," said Runyon, taking out a smallpen-knife, for he had already ruined the larger one he always carried."Tomatoes usually have a lot of liquid in the cans, a sort of wateryjuice which I am sure would help to relieve your thirst."

  He began prying at the tin with a knife blade, but it was a heavyquality of plate, such as is rarely used nowadays, and resisted hisattempt. Soon the blade of the frail tool snapped at the handle, and hetried the other blade. That, too, soon broke and Runyon regarded the canwith a sort of wonder.

  "It beats me," he said, shaking his head. "But I don't like to give up,and that tomato-juice would be of service if we could only get at it."

  Looking around for another implement his eye spied the revolver hangingupon its peg.

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bsp; "Ah! if that weapon is loaded I'll use a bullet as a can-opener," heexclaimed, and reaching up he removed the revolver from its place.

  "Good; six cartridges, 32 caliber," said he. "Now, young ladies, if youcan stand the noise, and the powder hasn't spoiled, I believe I can makea hole in that can which will allow the juice to run out."

  "I don't care," said Inez, "but I will take Mees Jane upstairs, first."

  "The sound will echo like a regular battle," said Mildred; "but as I amreally thirsty and your suggestion of relief tempts me, I am willing tohave you shoot the pistol."

  Runyon placed the can upon the edge of the low hinged table, where itstood about waist high. When Inez had gone above with little Jane, theman took a position whereby he faced obliquely the outer wall and aimingat the tomatoes said:

  "Better stop up your ears, Miss--Mildred."

  She obeyed and he fired.

  Even their anticipations could not prepare them for the wild riot ofsound that followed the explosion. The bullet found its mark, for thecan toppled and fell from the shelf and lay spilling its contents uponthe floor. The bullet went farther and struck a crevice of the outerwall. A cloud of smoke for a moment obscured their view and Mildred,regarding the tomato-can, cried out:

  "Oh, pick it up! Pick it up, quick! It is spilling."

  Runyon made no reply. He was staring straight ahead, in a dazed,bewildered way, and now Mildred's eyes followed his.

  The smoke was rolling out of a large aperture in the outer wall. Threehuge blocks of adobe, neatly joined together, had swung outward, movedby a secret spring which the bullet had released.

  Through the grim prison wall they were looking out at the sunshine thatflooded the rose garden.

  Mildred sank to her knees, sobbing with joy. Big Runyon walked to thestaircase.

  "Hi, there, Inez!" he called. "Come down here and take Toodlums to hermother. I'll bet a button she'll be jolly glad to see that kid again!"