CHAPTER XXXIII. JANE'S BIRTHDAY
For the next two days the boys searched high and low, far and near,without finding the box. On the morning of the third, which was Saturday,Jane announced at breakfast that, as it was her birthday, she wished togo down to the inn and get the mail. The stage would not come up that wayuntil the following Monday. Instantly there was an uproar. Julie, whosefoot was nearly well again, hopped around the table and threw her armsabout her big sister's neck without fear of being rebuked because thefresh muslin collar might be crushed. The older girl slipped an armlovingly about the child, who stood with her cheek pressed against thesoft dark hair.
Dan reached a hand across the table. "Jane, so it is! This is thewonderful day on which you are eighteen. I congratulate you!"
Gerry, with a whoop, had pounced upon her, even as Julie had done,without fear of rebuke. The older girl had been so consistently lovingduring the past few days that, childlike, they had accepted the change asbeing natural and permanent. Dan smiled happily at the group and in hiseyes there was a tenderness that his sister rejoiced to see. But the ladwho had been her chum since little childhood also knew that Jane's heartheld a sorrow which she was not sharing with him. That it had somethingto do with Jean Sawyer he surmised, but believed that it was because Janestill thought Mr. Packard's overseer liked Merry especially well.
"Let's have a party!" Gerald shouted as he capered about the room unable,it would seem, to otherwise express his enthusiasm. "That would besport!" Dan agreed. Julie slipped from Jane's encircling arm. Clappingher hands, she sang out: "Goodie! We're going to have a party and maybethere'll be ice-cream."
"There probably isn't any to be had nearer than Scarsburg," Dan remarked.Then he grew thoughtful, wondering how long the girl he loved would bedetained at the county seat, "along of school-work."
As though voicing his thought, Gerald ceased his antics to say earnestly:"It won't be a party unless Meg is at it."
"And Jean Sawyer, too!" Julie put in. "Let's ask Meg and Jean to ourparty. You want them, don't you, Janey?"
The other girl smiled as she arose to clear the breakfast table; thenturned away, but not quickly enough to hide the sudden tears from Dan.The boy's heart was sad. He also believed that Jean Sawyer especiallyliked Merry, and, if this were true, there was nothing for Jane to do butto try _not_ to care.
Bob suggested that he and Dan go up to the Heger place to get the horse."Then the girls can take turns walking and riding," he ended. Merryseemed to be very eager to go to the village, far down in the valley. "I,also, am expecting some mail," was all that she would tell the others.
"I'm glad it's such a shiny day," Julie chirped. "Birthdays ought to beall gold and blue, hadn't they ought to be, Janey?"
"What a tangled up sentence that is, dearie!" The older girl tried tohide her own sorrow that she need not depress the others who were all ina holiday mood. "But I _do_ believe that birthdays _ought_ to be sunny,for they are a chance to start life all over." Merry looked up brightly."I love beginnings!" she said, as she rolled her sleeves preparing towash the dishes. "Whatever the mistakes or faults of the past have been,I feel that on New Years and birthdays, and even on Mondays, I can cleanoff the slate, so to speak, and start all over." When the two girls werealone in the kitchen, Merry slipped an arm about her companion as shesaid, "Dear Jane, I wish you would act more friendly toward poor JeanWilloughby. I know that your seeming to avoid him the other day, hurt himdeeply." But Jane shook her head and in her eyes there was an expressionof suffering. "I can't! Oh, I can't!" she said miserably. "Some day hemight find out how I had acted about father's renouncing his fortune, andthen he would scorn me! I couldn't endure it, Merry. Oh, indeed, Icouldn't! I'm going back East with you next week, and then I shall neversee Jean Sawyer."
An hour later the young people started down the mountain road, Julieriding on the horse as the other two girls, dressed in their natty hikingcostumes, declared that they would rather walk. They had decided to havelunch at the inn, for Mrs. Bently was an excellent cook.
Jane covered her aching heart so well that Dan believed after all he hadbeen mistaken in thinking that she was sorrowing for Jean. Her lovingdevotion to her best friend plainly proved to him that she was not at alljealous of Merry. Deciding that he must have been wrong, he enteredwholeheartedly into the joyousness of the occasion and a jolly processionit was that wended its way down the circling road toward the hamlet ofRedfords. At every turn Dan glanced down to see if, by any chance, MegHeger might be returning to her home cabin. Her foster-father had notknown how long she would have to stay at the Normal, where TeacherBellows had sent her for a time of intensive preparatory work, but thelad hoped and believed that, even if Meg would have to return toScarsburg on the following Monday, she would visit her home over theweek-end. Nor was he wrong, for, at the bend, just above the village,Gerald, who had been racing ahead, turned to shout through hands heldtrumpet-wise: "Say kids, Meg Heger's coming. Gee-golly! Now she can cometo the party!"
Luckily no one glanced at Dan, for his sudden brightening expressionwould have revealed the secret he wished to share with none but Meg. Inanother few moments the girl, riding slowly up the mountain road on herspotted pony, heard a chorus of shouts, and glancing up, saw the youngpeople on the bend above waving caps and kerchiefs. What a warmth therewas in the heart of the girl who, through all the years, had been withouta companion of her own age. And when at last they met, Jane was the firstto hurry forward with outstretched hands. "We've missed our nearestneighbor and we're so glad you came home today," she said in herfriendliest manner.
The beautiful girl looked from one to another of the group and seeing ineach face a joyful expression, she asked: "What is it? Some specialoccasion?" Gerald shouted, "Yo' bet it is! It's ol' Jane's birthday!"Instantly he remembered the time in the orchard at home when he hadcalled his sister "Ol' Jane" and how scathingly he had been rebuked, andhe looked quickly, anxiously at the girl, but she was laughingly saying,"You're right, Gerald! Eighteen _is_ old! I feel as ancient as thehills." Then taking Meg's free hand, for Julie was clinging to the other,Jane said, "Won't you turn about and take lunch with us at the inn? It'sthe first of the birthday celebrations." But the mountain girl shook herhead, smiling happily into her friend's eyes as she replied: "Ma Heger isexpecting me this noon and will have the things baked up that I likebest. I couldn't disappoint her nor dear old Pap, either."
"But you'll come later. We'll be home by two o'clock and then the realcelebration is to begin," Jane begged, while Gerald said informingly,"We're going to do stunts. I mean something extra-different. We don'tknow what yet, but it'll be something awful jolly."
Meg beamed down at the eager freckled face. "I wouldn't miss it forworlds. Of course I will be there." Dan, who had been standing silentlyat her side said: "I will come up to your cabin for you. Then you willknow when we are back and ready to begin the frolic, whatever it is tobe."
"Is Jean Sawyer coming?" Meg glanced at Jane to inquire. The mountaingirl noted the sudden clouding of her new friend's eyes and although thereply was lightly given in the negative, Meg knew that something waswrong. She had been so sure that Jane and Jean liked each otherespecially well.
Glancing at the sun, which was nearing the zenith, she exclaimed: "I mustgo now; my pony has had a long walk today and I do not want him to climbtoo rapidly." Then with a direct glance out of her dusky, long-lashedeyes at Dan, she said: "I'll be ready and waiting for you when you come."
Mrs. Bently was indeed pleased when she heard that she was to have somany hungry guests for lunch and asked if she might have one hour forpreparation.
The young people were disappointed when they learned that the mail hadnot arrived, but they had not long to wait before the stage drew up infront of the inn. Mr. Bently went out to get the leather bag which bothJane and Merry hoped might contain something of especial interest tothem.
They all crowded around the tiny window in the cor
ner which served aspostoffice and waited eagerly while the innkeeper sorted out the papers,letters and packages.
"Wall, now," he beamed at them over his spectacles, "if here ain't thatparcel ol' Granny Peters been waitin' fer so long. Yarn's in it," heinformed his amused listeners. "Red, black and yellar. Granny sends tothe city for a fresh batch every summer and knits things for Christmaspresents. I've had one o' Granny Peters' mufflers every year for longerthan I kin recollect." He reached again into the bag. "An' here'smagazines enough to start a shop. Them's for the Packard ranch. They musthave a powerful lot o' time for settin' around readin', them two must."Merry was watching eagerly, for, on the very next package she was surethat she saw her name. The postmaster looked at it closely. Then he heldit far off to get a different angle, evidently hoping for enlightenment.Finally he shook his head and tossed it to one side. "Reckon thar's beena mistake as to that parcel," he said. "Thar ain't no Miss Marion Starrin these here parts."
"I'm Marion Starr," that maiden informed him, laughingly holding out herhand. But before the postmaster would give up the parcel he presented thegirl with a paper to sign. "Reckon thar's suthin' powerful valuable inthat thar box," he said, "bein' as it's sent registered."
Then he leaned on his elbows as though planning to wait until Merry hadopened her package before he finished distributing the mail, but to hisquite evident disappointment, the girl slipped it into her sweater coatpocket. "I know what's in it," she said brightly. Jane, noting theradiant happiness in her friend's face, believed that she also knew, buther attention was attracted again to the small window near which shestood, for the postmaster was touching her arm with a long letter. "MissJane Abbott," he said, adding, "Wall, golly be, you're sort o' popular, Ireckon. Here are three letters an' thar's another that come inyesterday."
"It's Jane's birthday," Julie piped up informingly. A month before theolder girl would have rebuked the younger for having been so familiarwith one of a class far beneath her. As it was, she accepted smilinglythe well meant remark. "Wall, do tell! How old be yo', Miss Jane? Not aday over sixteen, jedgin' by yer looks."
As soon as the two girls could slip away from the others, Jane led Merryinto the deserted parlor of the inn, where hair-cloth chairs and sofa, amarble-topped table, and bright-colored prints on the wall were revealedin the subdued light from windows hung with heavy draperies.
When they were alone, Merry whirled and caught Jane's hands as she askedglowingly: "Can you guess what's in the box? I told mother to forwardit."
For answer Jane stooped and kissed the flushed cheek of her friend. "Ofcourse, I can guess," she replied. "It's the ring Jean's brother was tosend you from Paris."
Merry soon had the small box unwrapped and a dew-drop clear diamond wasrevealed in a setting of quaint design. "Oh, Merry, how wonderfullybeautiful it is!" Jane said with sincere admiration. Her shining-eyedfriend slipped it on the finger for which it was intended, then, smilingup at her companion, she prophesied, "Some day another ring, as lovely asthis one, will make you my sister."
There was a wistful expression in the dark eyes, but Jane's quiet replywas, "You are wrong, Merry. Even if Jean thinks he cares for me, he wouldnot, if he knew, and what is more, I have no reason to believe that heeven likes me better than he does his other girl friends."
Merry, knowing that time alone could tell whether or not she was aprophet, changed the subject by asking: "From whom are your letters,dear? How selfish I have been, opening my box first when it is _your_birthday." Jane glanced at the top envelope, then tore it open withbreathless eagerness.
Merry surmised, and correctly, that the letter was from Jean Sawyer. Itwas the one Mr. Bently had taken from a pigeon-hole where it had beensince the day before. It did not take long for Jane to read it, and whenshe looked up there was an expression of happiness shining through thetears that had come. Then suddenly and most unexpectedly, the girl sankdown in the stiff chair by the marble-topped table and bending her headon her arms, she sobbed bitterly. Merry went to her and putting an armabout her, she implored: "Don't, don't cry, dearie. It will make youreyes red and the others will wonder. Tell me what is in the letter andlet us try to think what it is best to do. Is it from Jean?"
Jane lifted her head and wiped her eyes. Then she held the letter out forher friend to read. There were few words in it, but they told howsincerely unhappy the lad was because Jane seemed not to wish for hisfriendship. Jean had written: "All I can think of is that in some way Ihave hurt you, and that I do so want to be forgiven. At least, be frankand tell me just why you do not wish my friendship."
"Why don't you tell him, dearie? If it would be hard to talk it over withhim, write a little letter now and leave it until someone comes for thePackard ranch mail. Will you do that if I get the materials?"
Jane nodded miserably. "Yes, I would rather write it. Then I will go backwith you next week and I shall never again see Jean Sawyer."
Merry procured from Mr. Bently the paper and envelope, while Bobwillingly loaned his fountain pen. A glance at the big, loud-tickingclock on the wall showed that there was still twenty minutes before Mrs.Bently would be ready for them.
Merry thoughtfully left Jane alone, nor did she ask what her friend hadwritten when, at last, she joined the others, who were seated in thecane-bottomed chairs on the front veranda of the inn.
The letter Jane had given to Mr. Bently, asking him to place it with therest of the mail for the Packard ranch.
The boys sprang up when Jane appeared, and Bob, being nearest, offeredhis chair with a flourish. Merry glanced anxiously at her friend, but thebeautiful face betrayed nothing. "Thank you," Jane replied with a smileat Bob, who had perched upon the rail near. Then, to Dan, she said:"Brother, I have such a nice letter from Dad and one from grandmother,but best of all is the check in Aunt Jane's letter, because now I canrepay the debt that I owe our dear, wonderful Meg."
Before she could say more, Mrs. Bently appeared in the doorway, her facerosy, her spotless blue apron wound about her hands. "The birthday lunchis ready to be dished up," she announced. Instantly Bob was on his feet,making a deep bow before Jane and holding out his arm as he inquired,"May I have the great pleasure of escorting the guest of honor?"
Gerald, taking the cue, bowed before Merry and Julie, laughing up at Dan,said ungrammatically but happily: "Me'n you are all that's left." Thetall boy caught the little girl by one hand as he joyfully replied: "Mrs.Tom Thumb and The Living Skeleton will end the procession."
Jane, smiling over her shoulder, said rebukingly, "Don't call yourselfthat, brother. You're not nearly as thin as you were." When thedining-room was reached, the young people were surprised and pleased."Say, boy!" was Bob's comment "Mrs. Bently, you've decked it out in grandstyle."
The table to which they had been led was indeed resplendent with the bestof everything that the good woman possessed. On a real damask table-clothwas glass that sparkled, while a pink rose pattern wound about plates andcups. "They're my wedding presents," the comely woman told them as shebeamed her pleasure. "I never use them except for extra occasions likeChristmas and----"
"Birthdays," Gerald put in. Then, after the boys had moved the chairs outfor the girls and all were seated, they glanced about the room. Twocowboys were at a table in a corner, and Jane recognized that one of themwas from the Packard ranch. "He'll take back their mail," she thought,"and so this very day Jean Sawyer will know all. He will never, neverwant to see me after he reads what I have written."
The menu for that birthday lunch was indeed an excellent one, but thechildren, who sat next to each other, were eagerly anticipating thedessert. "What do you 'spect it will be?" Gerald inquired softly, andJulie whispered back: "I know what I wish it was. It begins with I. C."
"You might as well wish for something else," Dan, who had overheard,replied, but when Mrs. Bently appeared, on her tray there were six dishesheaped high with chocolate ice cream.
"Why, Mrs. Bently, are you a miracle worker?" Jane, pleased for thechildren's sake, inqu
ired. Laughingly the woman confessed that theice-cream had been the reason she had asked for one hour in which toprepare. "So many folks motorin' past want ice-cream," she told them,"and so Pa Bently fetched a new contraption from Denver last time he wasup there, an' it'll freeze ice-cream in one hour easy." Then shedisappeared to soon return with a mountain of a chocolate layer cake."You'll have to get along without candles, Miss Jane," the good womansaid, "an' the frostin' ain't very hard yet, but I reckon it'll pass."
The girl, who had felt scornful of these "natives," as she had calledthem only a short month before, was deeply touched and she exclaimed withreal feeling: "Mrs. Bently, I do indeed appreciate all the trouble thatyou have taken. I have never had a nicer party."
A moment later Jane saw the two cowboys leave the dining-room. Almostunconsciously she pressed her hand against her heart to still its rapidbeating as her panicky thought was questioning: "Do you really want tosend that letter to Jean Sawyer? There is yet time to get it. Do you wanthim to know just how dishonorable you were about the money?" She halfrose, then sank down again, for through the swinging door she had seenMr. Bently handing the Packard mail pouch to the cowboy. It was too late.Then, chancing to meet Merry's troubled glance, Jane smiled as she saidwith an effort at gaiety: "Gerald, if all of your wishes are to befulfilled as magically as this one has been, you are to be a lucky boy."
"There's two things we've wished for lately that don't happen, aren'tthere, Danny?" The small boy looked up at his big brother, who smileddown, as be replied, "I suppose you mean that we have not found MegHeger's box. What is the other unmaterialized wish, Gerry?"
The boy's wide eyes expressed astonishment. "Why, Dan Abbott, I dobelieve you've forgotten that we wished we might find the lost goldmine."
The older boy laughingly confessed that was true. Dan had found a goldmine that he valued much more than the one to which Gerald referred. Itwas Mrs. Bently who said, "It wasn't a lost mine, exactly, dearie. Thevein they'd been workin' petered out, although there are folks who reckonthat vein branched off somewhars, but the miners went away hot-foot whenthe Bald Mountain Strike was made." Then she concluded: "There's not muchuse huntin' for that lost vein, how-some-ever. Time and again there'sbeen wanderin' miners diggin' around in them parts, but they allays giveup and go away."
Then, as the young people rose, they each expressed some characteristicpraise for the meal and indeed Mrs. Bently was almost as pleased about itas her guests had been. The bill, they found, was surprisingly small.Then, after bidding the two queer characters goodbye, the six merrymakersstarted up the trail with Julie again on the horse. The other girls tookturns riding with her and so, at about two, they reached the Abbottcabin. Dan climbed to the back of the mare. Calling that he would soonreturn, he rode up the mountain toward Meg's home. How very many thingshad happened in the few weeks they had been in the mountains, he thought.If only Jane could be happy, Dan assured himself, he would be supremelyso. But poor Jane found, as the moments passed, that she regretted moreand more having sent the letter, but she would not confide this to Merry,whose suggestion it had been. Meanwhile the letter had reached itsdestination and had been read by Jean Sawyer.