Going Some

  CHAPTER III

  It was still early in the afternoon when Jack Chapin and theyouthful chaperon found the other young people together on thegallery.

  "Here's a telegram from Speed," began Jack.

  "It's terribly funny," said Mrs. Keap. "That Mexican brought itto us down at the spring-house."

  Miss Blake lost her bored expression, and sat up in the hammock.

  "'Mr. Jack Chapin,'" read the owner of the Flying Heart Ranch."'Dear Jack: I couldn't wait for Covington, so meet withbrass-band and fireworks this afternoon. Have flowers in bloom in thelittle park beside the depot, and see that the daisies nod tome.--J. Wallingford Speed.'"

  "Park, eh?" said Fresno, dryly. "Telegraph office, water-tank,and a cattle-chute. Where does this fellow think he is?"

  "Here is a postscript," added Chapin.

  "'I have a valet who does not seem to enjoy the trip. Divide akiss among the girls.'"

  "Well, well! He's stingy with his kisses," observed Berkeley."Who is this humorous party?"

  "He was a Freshman at Yale the year I graduated," explained Jack.

  "Too bad he never got out of that class." It was evident that Mr.Speed's levity made no impression upon the Glee Club tenor. "Hehates to talk about himself, doesn't he?"

  "I think he is very clever," said Miss Blake, warmly.

  "How well do you know him?"

  "Not as well as I'd like to."

  Fresno puffed at his little pipe without remarking at this.

  "Well, who wants to go and meet him?" queried Jack.

  "Won't you?" asked his sister.

  "I can't. I've just got word from the Eleven X that I'm wanted.The foreman is hurt. I may not be back for some time."

  "Nigger Mike met me," observed Fresno, darkly.

  "Then Nigger Mike for Speed," laughed the cattle-man. "I've toldCarara to hitch up the pintos for me. I must be going."

  "I'll see that you are safely started," said the young widow; andleaving the trio on the gallery, they entered the house.

  When they had gone, Jean smiled wisely at Helen. "Roberta's sucha thoughtful chaperon," she observed, whereupon Miss Blakegiggled.

  As for Mrs. Keap, she was inquiring of Jack with genuinesolicitude:

  "Do you really mean that you may be gone for some time?"

  "I do. It may be a week; it may be longer; I can't tell until Iget over there."

  "I'm sorry." Mrs. Keap's face showed some disappointment.

  "So am I."

  "I shall have to look out for these young people all by myself."

  "What a queer little way you have of talking, as if you wereyears and years old."

  "I do feel as if I were. I--I--well, I have had an unhappyexperience. You know unhappiness builds months into years."

  "When Jean got up this house-party," young Chapin began,absently, "I thought I should be bored to death. But--I haven'tbeen. You know, I don't want to go over there?" He nodded vaguelytoward the south.

  "I thought perhaps it suited your convenience." His companionwatched him gravely. "Are you quite sure that your sister'sguests have not--had something to do with this suddendetermination?"

  "I am quite sure. I never liked the old Flying Heart so much as Ido to-day. I never regretted leaving it so much as I do at thismoment."

  "We may be gone before you return."

  Young Chapin started. "You don't mean that, really?" Mrs. Keapnodded her dark head. "It was all very well for me to chaperonHelen on the way out from the East, but--it isn't exactly regularfor me to play that part here with other young people to lookafter."

  "But you understand, of course--Jean must have explained to you.Mother was called away suddenly, and she can't get back now. Yousurely won't leave--you _can't_." Chapin added, hopefully:"Why, you would break up Jean's party. You see, there's nobodyaround here to take your place."

  "But--"

  "Nonsense! This is an unconventional country. What's wrong withyou as a chaperon, anyway? Nobody out here even knows what achaperon is. And I'll be back as soon as I can."

  "Do you really think that would help?" Roberta's eyes laughedhumorously.

  "I'm not thinking of the others, I'm thinking of myself,"declared the young man, boldly. "I don't want you to go before Ireturn. You must not! If you go, I--I shall follow you." Hegrasped her hand impulsively.

  "Oh!" exclaimed the chaperon. "This makes it even more impossible.Go! _Go!_" She pushed him away, her color surging. "Go to yourold Eleven X Ranch right away."

  "But I mean it," he declared, earnestly. Then, as she retreatedfarther: "It's no use, I sha'n't go now until--"

  "You have known me less than a week!"

  "That is long enough. Roberta--"

  Mrs. Keap spoke with honest embarrassment. "Listen! Don't you seewhat a situation this is? If Jean and Helen should ever discover--"

  "Jean planned it all; even this."

  Mrs. Keap stared at him in horrified silence.

  "You do love me, Roberta?" Chapin undertook to remove the girl'shands from her face, when a slight cough in the hall behindcaused him to turn suddenly in time to see Berkeley Fresnopassing the open door.

  "There! You see!" Mrs. Keap's face was tragic. "_You see!_"She turned and fled, leaving the master of the ranch in themiddle of the floor, bewildered, but a bit inclined to be happy.A moment later the plump face of Berkeley Fresno appearedcautiously around the door-jamb. He coughed again gravely.

  "I happened to be passing," said he. "You'll pardon me?"

  "This is the most thickly settled spot in New Mexico!" Chapindeclared, with an artificial laugh, choking his indignation.

  Fresno slowly brought his round body out from concealment.

  "I came in to get a match."

  "Why don't you carry matches?"

  Fresno puffed complacently upon his pipe. "This," he mused, ashis host departed, "eliminates the chaperon, and that helpssome."

  Still Bill Stover lost no time in breaking the news to the boys.

  "There's something comin' off," he advised Willie. "We've gotanother foot-runner!"

  If he had hoped for an outburst of rapture on the part of thelittle gun man he was disappointed, for Willie shifted hisholster, smiled evilly through his glasses, and inquired, withominous restraint:

  "Where is he?"

  Being the one man on the Flying Heart who had occasion to wear agun, Willie seldom smiled from a sense of humor. Here it may besaid that, deceived at first by his scholarly appearance, hisfellow-laborers had jibed at Willie's affectation of a swingingholster, but the custom had languished abruptly. When it becameknown who he was, the other ranch-hands had volubly declared thatthis was a free country, where a man might exercise a widediscretion in the choice of personal adornment; and as for them,they avowed unanimously that the practice of packing a Colts wasone which met with their most cordial approbation. In timeWillie's six-shooter had become accepted as a part of the localscenery, and, like the scenery, no one thought of remarking uponit, least of all those who best knew his lack of humor. He hadcome to them out of the Nowhere, some four years previously, andwhile he never spoke of himself, and discouraged reminiscence inothers, it became known through those vague uncharted channels bywhich news travels on the frontier, that back in the TexasPanhandle there was a limping marshal who felt regrets at mentionof his name, and that farther north were other men who had asuperstitious dread of undersized cow-men with spectacles. Therewere also stories of lonesome "run-ins," which, owing to Willie'ssecretiveness and the permanent silence of the otherparticipants, never became more than intangible rumors. But hewas a good ranchman, attended to his business, and the sheriff'soffice was remote, so Willie had worked on unmolested.

  "This here is a real foot-runner," said Stover.

  "Exactly," agreed the other. "Where is he?"

  "He'll be here this afternoon. Nigger Mike's bringin' him overfrom the railroad. He's a guest."

  "Oh!"

  "Yep! He's intercollegit champeen of Yale."

 
"Yale?" repeated the near-sighted man. "Don't know's I ever beenthere. Much of a town?"

  "I ain't never travelled East myself, but Miss Jean and thelittle yaller-haired girl say he's the fastest man in the world.I figgered we might rib up something with the Centipede." StillBill winked sagely.

  "See here, do you reckon he'd run?"

  "Sure! He's a friend of the boss. And he'll run on the level,too. He can't be nothin' like Humpy."

  "If he is, I'll git him," said the cowboy. "Oh, I'll git himsure, guest or no guest. But how about the phonograph?"

  "The Centipede will put it up quick enough; there ain't nosentiment in that outfit."

  "Then it sounds good."

  "An' it'll work. Gallagher's anxious to trim us again. Some folkscan't stand prosperity."

  Willie spat unerringly at a grasshopper. "Lord!" said he, "it'stoo good! It don't sound possible."

  "Well, it is, and our man will be here this evenin'. Watch outfor Nigger Mike, and when he drives up let's give this party awelcome that'll warm his heart on the jump. There's nothin' likea good impression."

  "I'll be on the job," assured Willie. "But I state right here andnow, if we do get a race there ain't a-goin' to be no chance ofour losin' for a second time."

  And Stover went on his way to spread the tidings.

  It was growing dark when the rattle of wheels outside theranch-house brought the occupants to the porch in time to see NiggerMike halt his buck-board and two figures prepare to descend.

  "It's Mr. Speed!" cried Miss Blake. Then she uttered a scream asthe velvet darkness was rent by a dozen tongues of flame, while ashrill yelping arose, as of an Apache war-party.

  "It's the boys," said Jean. "What on earth has possessed them?"

  But Stover had planned no ordinary reception, and the pandemoniumdid not cease until the men had emptied their weapons.

  Then Mr. J. Wallingford Speed came stumbling up the steps andinto the arms of his friends, the tails of his dust-coatstreaming.

  "Really? This is more than I expected," he gasped; then turning,doffed his straw hat to the half-revealed figures beyond thelight, and cried, gayly: "Thank you, gentlemen! Thank you formissing me!"

  "Yow--ee!" responded the cowboys.

  "How do you do, Miss Chapin!" Speed shook hands with his hostess,and in the radiance from the open doorway she saw that his facewas round and boyish, and his smile peculiarly engaging.

  She welcomed him appropriately; then said: "This reception isquite as startling to us as to you. You know, Mr. Speed, that wehave with us a friend of yours." She slightly drew Helen forward."And this is Mrs. Keap, who is looking after us a bit whilemother is away. Roberta, may I present Mr. Covington's friend,and ask you to be good to him?"

  "Don't forget me," said Fresno, pushing into the light.

  "Mr. Berkeley Fresno, of Leland Stanford University."

  "Hello, Frez!" Speed thrust out his hand warmly. Not so theCalifornian. He replied, with hauteur:

  "Fresno! F-r-e-s-n-o"; and allowed the new-comer to grasp a limp,moist hand.

  "Ah! Go to the head of the class! I'm sorry you broke your wrist,however." The Eastern lad spoke lightly, and gave the palm ahearty squeeze, then turned to Jean.

  "I dare say you are all disappointed, Miss Chapin, that Culverdidn't come with me, but he'll be along in a day or so. I simplycouldn't wait." He avoided glancing at Helen Blake, whoseanswering blush was lost in the darkness.

  "I did think when you drove up that might be Mr. Covington withyou," Miss Chapin remarked, wistfully.

  "Oh no, that's my man." Speed glanced around him. "And,by-the-way, where is he?"

  The sound of angry voices came through the gloom, then out intothe light came Still Bill Stover, Willie, and Carara, draggingbetween them a globular person who was rebelling loudly.

  "Stover, what is this?" questioned Miss Chapin, stepping to theedge of the veranda.

  "This gent stampedes in the midst of our welcome," explained theforeman, "so we have to rope him before he gets away." It wasseen now that Carara's lariat was tightly drawn about the newarrival's waist.

  Then the valet broke into coherent speech, but he spoke a tonguenot common to his profession.

  "Nix on that welcome stuff," he burst forth, in husky, alcoholicaccents; "that goes on the door-mat!" It was plain that he wasvery angry. "If that racket means welcome, I don't want it. Takethat clothes-line off of me." Carara loosened the noose, and hiscaptive rolled up the steps mopping his face with hishandkerchief.

  "What made you run away?" demanded Speed.

  "Any time a bunch of bandits unhitch their gats, I'm on my way,"sputtered the fat man. "I'm gun-shy, see? And when this hold-upcomes off I beat it till that Cuban rummy with the medals on hisdicer rides a live horse up my back."

  "You don't appreciate the honor," explained his employer; thenturning to the others, he announced: "Will you allow me tointroduce Mr. Lawrence Glass? He isn't really a valet, you know,Miss Chapin, and he doesn't care for the West yet. It is hisfirst trip."

  "I have heard my brother speak of Larry Glass," said Jean,graciously.

  Mr. Glass courtesied awkwardly, and swinging his right foot backof his left, tapped the floor with his toe. "You were a trainerat Yale when Jack was there?"

  "That's me," Mr. Glass wheezed. "I'm there with the big rub, too.Wally said he was going to train during vacation, so he staked meto a trip out here, and I came along to look after him."

  "Come into the house," said Jean. "Stover will see to yourbaggage."

  As they entered, Mr. Berkeley Fresno saw the late arrival bendover Helen Blake, and heard him murmur:

  "The same unforgettable eyes of Italian blue."

  And Mr. Fresno decided to dislike Wally Speed, even if itrequired an effort.