CHAPTER XXI--A FORTUNE IN TATTERS
Already Arthur was pulling off the bedding and piling it upon the floor.They stood back of him in an excited group, every head craned forward towatch his movements.
Off came the pillows--blankets--sheets--finally the mattress. This last,a thin cotton affair, left a trail of fuzzy, lint-like debris behind itand disclosed on removal a canvas cover that had been spread underneath.The canvas, which was about on a level with the boxed-in bed frame, wasas full of holes as a Swiss cheese and especially toward the center theweave had become disintegrated and given away to a dusty pulp.
"Rats!" exclaimed Uncle John, whose head was thrust between theshoulders of the major and Runyon.
As if his cry had been a summons, out sprang a huge gray rodent and thegirls pushed back with loud screams as the dreaded beast struck thefloor and scurried away down the passage. Another and another followedit, and now Louise, Patsy, Beth, Mildred and Inez were all dancing ontop the seats, wrapping their skirts about their ankles and whoopinglike a tribe of Indians.
Amid this wild hullabaloo, which struck terror to the hearts of thebrave men assembled, because at the instant they were too bewildered torealize what caused it, some six or eight monstrous rats leaped from thetattered canvas which covered the bed and vanished down the stairs.
Arthur put his hand down to raise the canvas and jumped back as heunearthed a nest of smaller vermin, squirming here and there in blindendeavors to escape their disturbers. Runyon brought a deep brass bowlfrom a shelf and dumped the small rats into it, standing by to captureothers as they appeared.
Gradually Weldon drew back the cover and as he did so the truth ofRunyon's prophecy was apparent. The entire space boxed in by the carvedbed-frame, from the floor to its upper edge, was packed solidly withvaluable laces. That is, it had once been solidly packed, but now therats had eaten tunnels and nests and boulevards through the costly lacesin every direction. It was a scene of absolute ruin. However preciousthis collection might once have been, in its present state it was notworth a copper cent.
The party gazed upon the sight with mingled awe and astonishment. Regretfor the destruction of the beautiful fabrics at first rendered themoblivious to the fact that the inheritance of Mildred Leighton was atlast recovered--only to be proved worthless.
Arthur dragged out a few scraps and spread them upon the floor, therebyexhibiting portions of the beautiful patterns of the various pieces.Then, hoping to find some that had escaped the ruthless teeth of therats, he and Runyon began pulling at the heap and working downwardtoward the floor. Just a few small pieces were found intact, but thesewere of slight value. Practically the entire lot was irretrievablyruined.
Scarcely a word was spoken as the investigation proceeded. Beth hadclasped one of Mildred's hands and Patsy the other, but neither daredlook in the poor girl's face, for they dreaded the poignantdisappointment sure to reign there.
But after the first shock, Mildred bore up bravely. She had notexpected, in the beginning, any tangible result; still it was verybitter to find her long sought fortune and realize that it amounted tonothing.
They sat around upon the benches, or leaning against the wall, andstared at the ruined laces with various emotions, the keenest beingregret for the loss of so much beautiful handwork and sympathy forMildred Leighton.
Suddenly Runyon broke the silence.
"This discovery is too thundering bad for mere words," he said withfeeling; "but Miss Travers--Mildred--must know we're all as sorry as sheis. She was right about the laces, but the laces are all wrong. This sadexhibit reminds me of my own perverse mortgages, and my mortgages remindme of something else. Mildred," he added, turning to the girl in adogged and rather shamefaced way, "I'm going to hold a privateconversation with you right here before our good friends, for I knowevery one of them will back me up. Eh?" he questioned, glancing aroundthe group.
There were some smiles, but many nods. As if encouraged, Runyonproceeded:
"This settles the question of your fortune. It's gone--vanished intoscraps. You're a poor girl, now, with no glittering prospects, so whatI'm going to say won't seem quite so selfish as it would otherwise. Infact, had these laces been perfect, they would have rendered me dumb. Asit is, here stand two impecunious ones--you and I. Between us we haven'tmuch more than enough to fry a fish, in solid cash, but among myencumbrances are a delightful little bungalow, nicely furnished, and alot of lemon trees that can be coaxed to buy us groceries and ordinarycomforts. I'm a lonely fellow, Mildred, and I need a companion. Will youmarry me, and look after that bungalow?"
This extraordinary proposal was heard in breathless silence. The menwere astounded, the girls delighted. Every eye turned curiously uponMildred Travers, who regarded the big rancher with frank wonder, a wansmile upon her pallid features.
"You do not say you love me," she suggested, striving through mildbanter to cover her confusion.
"Well, isn't that implied?" he answered. "No one would propose to a girlhe didn't love, would he?"
"You have only known me two days."
"Two days and seven hours. But mother endorsed you and I'll bank on herjudgment."
"When the mortgages come due, there won't be any bungalow," shecontinued.
"Don't you believe it," cried Runyon, earnestly. "With you to work for,I'll make those tart old lemons pay the interest and a good incomebesides. In fact, if we live long enough, we may even manage to reducethe mortgages. You see, I've been extravagant and foolish, but it wasbecause I had no aim in life. The minute you say 'yes,' I'm a reformedcharacter."
She shook her head and the smile faded from her face.
"Don't think me ungrateful, Mr. Runyon," she said quietly. "Unusualand--and--peculiar--as this proposal is, I believe you are sincere inwhat you say. But you are influenced just now by pity for me and Iassure you I am quite capable of earning my own living."
"But--oh, Mildred---he's so lonely," cried Patsy, impulsively.
"I'm sorry for that," she said, "but it is not my fault."
"It will be, though, if you refuse," declared Runyon.
"I fear I must."
"I see," he said with a sigh. "Mother endorsed you, but she didn'tendorse me. You've heard some tough yarns about me--all true asgospel--and you're prejudiced. I don't know as I blame you. If I were agirl I'd hesitate to reform such a desperate character, I'm sure. ButI've the notion there's the making of a decent fellow in me, if theright workman undertakes the job."
She looked at him earnestly, now--very earnestly. In spite of thesqueaky voice and the inopportune time he had chosen for such a seriousproposal, there was an innate manliness and ingenuousness in hisattitude, as he stood there unabashed and towering above the other men,that seemed to her admirable and impressive. Both Beth and Patsy werereflecting that a girl might do much worse than to accept Bulwer Runyonas a mate.
Said Mildred, still speaking in the same quiet and composed voice:
"I will give you a positive answer in three days, Mr. Runyon. That delayis mere justice to us both."
"Thank you," he said. "Shall we fuss with these tattered laces anylonger? It hardly seems worth while."
Now that the strain of the situation was removed they all beganchattering volubly in order to give countenance to Mildred. Runyonseemed not to need such consideration.
Old Miguel had witnessed and overheard this scene from the backgroundand his bright black eyes had roamed restlessly from the girl's face toRunyon's as if trying to read their true feelings. The discovery of thelaces had not drawn any exclamation from the ancient ranchero, whosestolid expression nothing seemed able to disturb. As the others fileddown the stairs and out of the recess in the wall, into the roomynursery, old Miguel followed imperturbable and serene as ever. In thecourt he touched his hat to his master.
"I go now, Meest Weld?" he asked.
"Yes. Thank you, Miguel, for your help."
"I thank you, too," said Mildred, stepping forward to take the Mexican'shand. "I rememb
er you well, Miguel. In the old days you often took careof me while my father and Senor Cristoval talked. Don't you remember?"
He nodded, his eyes fixed full upon her face.
"Once a friend, always a friend, Miguel," she continued brightly. "Evento-day you have been trying to help me, and I am grateful. Some time wewill have a good talk together about the old days."
Then he went away, and if one who knew old Miguel Zaloa could havefollowed him, his actions would have caused surprise.
First he wandered deep into the orange groves, where--when absolutelyalone--he began muttering excitedly. At times he would kick his bootedfoot viciously against a tree-trunk, regardless of the impact thatnumbed his toes and sent a tingle up his legs. After a time thisremarkable exhibit of passion subsided and for the period of half anhour he stood quite motionless, staring straight before him and seeingnothing. Then he started off through the groves, climbed the fence intothe lane and marched away through miles and miles of the surroundingcountry.
It was growing dark when Miguel at last appeared at the quarters,growling at the men and ordering them to get into the groves and work.They marked his ill temper and took care not to arouse his furtheranger. In the morning he was up at daybreak and in more gentle mooddirected the beginning of the day's labors.
CHAPTER XXII--FAITHFUL AND TRUE
Late that afternoon Arthur and Louise sat in the court, chatting withtheir guests, who were occupied in coddling and amusing baby Jane, whenInez approached Mr. Weldon and said that Miguel wished to speak withhim.
"Send him here," said Arthur, and presently the old Mexican appeared,again arrayed in his best clothes and with the red necktie carefullyarranged. He held his hat in his hand and looked uncertainly around thecircle. Then his eyes wandered to the nursery and through the open doorhe saw Mildred sitting in a rocker, engaged in reading a book. Runyonhad gone home that morning, "to see if the ranch is still there," hesaid.
"I have--some--private talks to make, Meest Weld," began the oldranchero.
"Speak out, Miguel," said his master encouragingly.
"Oh; but he said 'private,'" Patsy reminded him.
"I know. Miguel understands that he may speak before my friends."
"It ees--about--Senor Cristoval, Meest Weld."
"Yes? Well, what about him, Miguel?"
"I am once servant for Senor Cristoval. I stay here in house with him,long time. When he get sick, before he die, I care for him. Doctor sayto me that Senor Cristoval can not get well; I say so to SenorCristoval. He say never mind, he have live long enough."
This was interesting to them all in view of the recent happenings, andthe girls bent nearer to hear the old man's story. Arthur, the major andUncle John were equally intent.
"Senor Cristoval, he say, when he get very bad, there ees one thing hehate to leave, an' that ees--his money," continued Miguel. "He say,money ees his bes' friend, all time. But he no can take money where hewill go. He ees mad that many poor fools will spend the money he havelove an' cared for. So he make me take three big bag of gold an' driveto bank an' put away so the poor fools will find it. Much more money eesin bank, too. Then, when doctor come, he ask me when he will die, an'doctor say when sun next shine Senor Cristoval will not see it. Doctorwant to stay all night, but Senor Cristoval pay an' tell him go. He wantto die alone.
"But I am there. Some time in night Senor Cristoval he call an' say:'Miguel, I mus' not die till I have give to Leighton what belong to him.I have keep Leighton's money for him. I will show you where it ees hid,so you can give it to Leighton.'"
Ah, they were intent enough now. Intuitively each listener seemed toknow that a secret was about to be revealed and many glances were casttoward the unconscious Mildred, who continued to read placidly. But noone interrupted the old Mexican.
"I help Senor Cristoval to stand up. He ees not strong, so I hold him.He walk from blue room to back room an' there he show me how to takeblock from wall. Behind block ees big place for money. Senor Cristovalhe say all money what belong to Leighton ees there. He tell me count it.So I put Senor Cristoval in chair an' he watch while I take out moneyan' count. There ees four bag. I count three bag an' he say good, it eesright. He say count last bag. So I empty bag on floor an' count gold an'put in bag again. When thees ees done I say: 'Is eet right?' But SenorCristoval say nothing. I look up, an' Senor Cristoval ees dead."
The old man spoke simply and quietly, but they found his relationintensely dramatic. Patsy was trembling with excitement. Beth claspedLouise's hand and found it cold from nervousness.
"And then, Miguel?" said Arthur.
"Then, Meest Weld, I put gold in wall an' fix block so no one know an'carry Senor Cristoval to his bed. That ees all, Meest Weld."
"And you told no one of Leighton's gold?"
"I tell no one. It ees belong to Leighton."
"Where is it now, Miguel?"
"In wall, Meest Weld."
"All of it?"
"All."
There was a moment's pause.
"You know now that it belongs to Mildred--to Leighton's daughter,--doyou not?" he asked, an accent of sternness in his voice.
"I know, Meest Weld."
"Then why did you not tell us of this before?"
Old Miguel stood silent, shifting from one foot to another, his eyescast down, his slender brown fingers spasmodically pressing the rim ofhis sombrero. But when he spoke it was in his former quiet manner.
"I am a bad man, Meest Weld. I theenk I keep gold for myself. Why not,when no one know? Long time after Senor Cristoval die no one come here.Some time I go to room an' count gold. When I see it I have bad thought.I theenk it ees nice if I keep all myself. But when I go away an' workin the grove, I tell Miguel many time that gold ees not his; it eesLeighton's gold. I say when Leighton come for it he mus' have it. ButLeighton do not come. Many year the gold ees mine, an' no one know. Thencome Leighton's girl, an' I know I am bad man if I keep gold. But I saynothing. I theenk no one ever know."
"But tell me," said Arthur curiously, "what good is the money to youwhen it is hidden in a wall?"
"Not much, Meest Weld; but I know I am rich. I say I can buy ranch an'be big man, an' no one know I have steal Leighton's gold."
"Then why have you told us the secret?"
Miguel glanced toward the nursery.
"I am man for work," said he. "Always I work; always I mus' work. I amold. When I can no work, I mus' die. Senor Cristoval mus' leave goldwhen he die; it ees same with Miguel. Now I have good job. I can workan' be happy. But--"
"Well, Miguel?"
"Leighton's daughter, she ees a girl. A girl can not work like a man. Itees her gold, not mine. When you say it, I will show you whereLeighton's gold ees hid."
Uncle John sprang up and grasped the man's hand.
"You are an honest fellow, Miguel!" he cried.
"No, Meest Mereek," was the reply. "I have wish to steal, so I am nothonest."
"But you have given up the gold."
"Yes, Meest Mereek; because I am afraid."
"I don't believe a word of it," said Patsy. "You were tempted to dowrong, Miguel, and if you had kept silent no one would ever have known;but you told us of the gold, and so you are faithful and true."
"Ah, that ees what Meest Leighton tell me, some time," said he. "An'that ees what spoil me from being bad. Because Leighton say I amfaithful an' true, I have theenk I mus' be that way. That ees it."
----
Mildred's gold proved to be a small fortune. Perhaps Cristoval had addedto his partner's earnings, for the child's sake, for the total amountedto more than she had ever expected.
It was all in hard cash and Arthur drove over to the bank and depositedit to the credit of Mildred Travers, as she preferred to retain thatname.
Patsy and Beth were curious to know what the girl would do with herwindfall, but Mildred proved noncommittal.
"How about Bul Run?" asked Patsy.
Mildred smiled but blushed
deeply at the question.
"Would my money be enough to pay his mortgages?" she inquired.
"Perhaps," said Beth, "but that would be foolish. He would soon be indebt again."
"No, no!" protested Patsy. "I'm sure he will reform if--"
"If Mildred marries him?"
"Yes."
Mildred seemed troubled.
"The best way," declared Beth, "would be to have Mildred keep her moneyin her own name, and help out in case of emergency."
Mildred approved that, and being pressed by the two girls she franklyconfided to them that she would accept Mr. Runyon when he came for hisanswer.
Runyon appeared on the third day and Arthur met him and told him thegood news of the finding of Mildred's inheritance. But the effect ofthis discovery on the big rancher was to overwhelm him with despair.
"She will never marry me now," he asserted in doleful tones, "and I'drather die than ask her. It would be beastly to take such an advantageof the poor child. When she was poor, I could offer her a home with goodgrace, but now that she's rolling in gold the jig is up! If you'll tellme, where I can find old Miguel, I'll strangle the villain. Why inthunder couldn't he hold his tongue?"
Arthur laughingly replied that money wouldn't make a particle ofdifference with a girl like Mildred, but Runyon would not listen andremained disconsolate. He stayed at the ranch, but moped around with awoe-begone countenance and refused to speak with anyone.
Patsy and Beth skillfully contrived several opportunities for Runyon toapproach Mildred, but he ignored all chances and preferred to remainmiserable. The day passed without his demanding his answer. Mildred hadbeen bright and expectant and the girls read her disappointment when herunaccountable wooer delayed putting his fortune to the test.
The next day he was no more cheerful, but rather seemed to haveaccumulated an added gloom. He sought a garden bench and smokedinnumerable cigars in solitary grief. If anyone approached, Runyon wouldretreat to the shrubbery. At mealtime he was likewise silent butconsumed enormous quantities of food, which made Patsy accuse him ofbeing an impostor.
"No regulation lover," she said to him, "ever had an appetite. Thenovels all say so. Therefore you can't love Mildred a bit."
Runyon groaned, cast her a reproachful glance and went on eating.
Several days passed without his asking Mildred for her answer, and nowthe absurd situation began to get on all their nerves. Mildred herselfgrew impatient and watched from the nursery window the garden bench onwhich Runyon sat gloomily in his perpetual cloud of smoke.
"He'll make himself sick, with those black cigars, I'm sure," observedPatsy, on one occasion.
"And he can't afford to smoke so many," added Beth. "Unless this thingstops, he'll soon have to take out a new mortgage."
"Or sell some lemons," added Patsy.
"I believe," said Mildred slowly, as if summoning her courage, "I willspeak to him myself. Don't you think that would be best?"
"Of course," approved Patsy. "Runyon is a big baby, and needs a nursemore than little Jane. I'll hold Toodlums, Mildred, while you sallyforth and take the bull by the horns."
Mildred looked at Beth for counsel.
"Unless you speak to him," said that young lady, "you will never gettogether. Moreover, the rest of us will grow mad or idiotic. So, for allour sakes, you'd better take Mr. Runyon in hand. You'll have to managehim afterward, anyhow, so the sooner you begin the better."
Mildred handed little Jane to Patsy and left the nursery. Through thewindow the other girls watched her approach Mr. Runyon and stand beforehim. At once he stood up and threw away his cigar, but his face wastoward them and they could see that he did not speak.
Mildred, however, was talking very earnestly. Runyon shook his head. Heturned half away. Then he swung sharply around and caught the girl inhis arms.
"Come, Beth," said Patsy; "let's go and tell Louise."
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends