CHAPTER XVII.--SALT LAKE CITY.
Imagine a lovely valley, green and fertile, encircled by a great chainof mountains. Glistening to the westward, like a gem on its bosom, is abeautiful lake, and from the very heart of the valley rises the cityitself. It nestles at the foot of a vast granite temple, which towersabove the homes of the citizens like a great, gray mountain.
"Perhaps the Land of Canaan looked like this to the Israelites,"exclaimed Mary Price, as the Comet paused on the steep road in order togive our pilgrims their first glimpse of the old Mormon city. For thelast thirty-six hours they had been surfeited with magnificent scenery.
"Snow-capped mountains and canons and waterfalls are getting to be justeveryday affairs," wrote Billie to her father, still in distant Russia.
It was a rest to their eyes and their minds, therefore, to look down onthis peaceful and exquisite valley, Evelyn's home.
"It's all very beautiful," observed Miss Campbell. "I'm sure I never sawa more enchanting scene in my life. But there's one thing that makes itmore beautiful to me even than the Vale of Cashmere, and that's a hotbath. I'm looking forward to a hot bath, my dears, and a good night'srest on a hair mattress in the best hotel in the city. I trust you feelthe same."
The girls laughed.
"We look a good deal like a United States geological surveying party,after three months in the wilderness," answered Daniel Moore, lookingquizzically at the girls' sunburned faces, and glancing down at his grayflannel shirt, borrowed from Jim Bowles.
"I do feel as if I had returned to my natural element," said Elinor;"just a handful of dust. I am chewing dust and seeing dust and hearingdust. My hair is dust and so are my clothes."
"After we are scrubbed and shampooed and manicured and fed and rested,"here put in Billie, "I shall write a note to your Evelyn, Mr. Moore."
The young man hesitated.
"I've repented my bargain with you, Miss Billie. I'm afraid you mightget into some kind of trouble. I should never forgive myself if Iinvolved you in any difficulties."
"Nonsense," said Billie, who, having made up her mind to see Evelyn, wasnot going to be thwarted at the eleventh hour. "There could be nopossible harm in my writing and asking her to call. Besides, we know hernow anyhow, quite well. Don't we, Helen?"
"Yes-s--," hesitated her cousin. "But I agree with Mr. Moore, that wehad better not make any more efforts to see Evelyn, although I can'tpossibly see how we could become involved in any trouble by renewing ouracquaintance."
So the discussion came to an end. What this beautiful city with themysteries which hung over it had in store for them, they could not evenguess. Perhaps they would visit its chief points of interest likeordinary tourists, and perhaps, who knows, they might penetrate fardeeper into its secrets. They were certain of one thing, however, thatDaniel Moore, for all his self-contained and calm exterior, was consumedwith an unquenchable flame of determination. By hook or by crook, hewould see Evelyn Stone, and, provided she was willing, he would take heraway from Utah.
"And we are likely to be the 'hook or crook,'" observed Billie, throughwhose mind these thoughts were passing, as she guided the Comet into abroad, spacious street, lined with beautiful stone houses.
"Where does Evelyn live?" asked Nancy. "Couldn't we go by the house onour way to the hotel?"
"Their town house is on this very street," answered Evelyn's lover, "butthey are likely to be in the country at this time of the year. That'sanother difficulty. You will see the place presently. It's on thecorner. Old Stone is a very rich person, I'm afraid. If he hadn't had somuch money, he wouldn't have looked down on me as a son-in-law."
Billie slowed up as they neared the fine granite mansion built byEvelyn's father. The front shades were all pulled down, and there wasnot a sign of life about the place.
"It looks more like a prison than a home," Billie exclaimed. "Does hekeep his pretty Evelyn locked up there all winter?"
"I'm afraid so," said Daniel ruefully. "She hasn't had much libertysince she met me, anyhow. He's an infernal old----"
Daniel broke off in the middle of a sentence, for the front door of theStone house had opened, and there on the threshold, like a dragon at thecastle gate, stood John James Stone. He could never be said to glancecasually at anything, but his sharp eyes only rested for a moment on thepassing motor car, and he turned on his heel and entered the house.
"The old fox is never away, you see," ejaculated Daniel Moore.
But they soon approached an immense, splendid hotel, and the thought ofhot baths and clean clothes was sweeter to the weary ladies at thatmoment than the most idyllic romance ever conceived.
It was to this hotel that Daniel Moore's luggage had been checked, andthere he found and redeemed it with the check the late train robber hadconsiderately returned to him.
"You won't see us again until seven o'clock to-night, Mr. Moore," MissCampbell had said. "And then you may not know us, we shall be sotransformed with soap and water."
"I may have news for you by then," he said, as they separated at theelevator.
And that was the last they were to see of Daniel Moore for many a day tocome.
* * * * *
"I suppose butterflies feel about as we do," observed Nancy that eveningas they filed down to dinner.
"Meaning when they cease to be worms and appear clothed in fineraiment," asked Billie.
"Not so very fine," answered Nancy, fingering a streamer of her pinksash with a tender touch, as she glanced complaisantly down at herlingerie frock.
Billie laughed teasingly.
"Little butterfly," she said, "is there anything; you like better thanpretty clothes?"
Nancy pouted and smiled.
"There is just this minute," she answered. "Dinner with waiters and soupand mayonnaise and strawberry ice cream."
They exchanged happy smiles over Nancy's inconsequential menu.
After a month's Gypsying, it was good to be civilized for a few daysbefore the thirst for wandering came over them again, and they must pushon toward California.
Daniel Moore was not at the appointed meeting-place, in one of the smallsitting rooms. They waited impatiently for him for a quarter of an hour,and finally left word at the desk that he would find them in the diningroom. There, in the interest of dinner and of the occupants of othertables, their recent fellow traveler completely passed from their minds.
"It takes a thousand miles of privation to appreciate real comfort,"observed Miss Helen Campbell, delicately nibbling the breast of a springchicken. "My dear children, how very pleasant this is, to be sure."
The Motor Maids fully agreed with her. The lights and the flowers, themusic and the well-trained waiters, as well as the delicious dinner,afforded them supreme enjoyment for the moment. They tried to rememberthat less than seventy years had passed since the first ox-drawnemigrant wagon had entered the valley.
"And since that time all this has happened," cried Mary dramatically.For it was she, more than the others, who loved the history of theplaces through which they passed. "They say Brigham Young saw it all ina dream," she continued, "and the moment he set eyes on the valley andthe lake, he said: 'This is the place. Drive on.'"
"'And forty years later Brigham Young laid the corner-stone for theTemple,'" read Billie from the guide book in a sing-song voice. "'Thearchitecture is composite----' What's that?"
She raised her eyes questioningly. "Why, you haven't heard a word I----"she began.
Four pairs of eyes were turned toward the entrance of the dining room,where stood a tall, slender, young girl, in a white dress. Her red-goldhair was coiled low on her neck. Her arms hung limply at her sides, andshe gazed with a listless air into space, without seeing any of thediners at the tables. Her father, the imperturbable John James Stone,was on one side of her, and on the other an equally imperturbable youngman, with a stern, rather hard countenance, a square jaw and a mouth asinscrutable and enigmatic as the shut door of a tomb.
The head waiter conducted the party to a table in a far-distant cornerof the room, where the girls could see them without staring rudely.
"That's Evelyn Stone," said a woman at the table next to them. "She'swith her fiance, Ebenezer Stone. He's her second cousin, you know."
"When did you say they were to be married?"
"The day after to-morrow. That's why they're in town. She is to bemarried in the annex of the Temple on Saturday. They say she's notover-anxious, either. There was another man in the case, you know. Butsomething happened, and she's consented to marry Ebenezer, who's alwayswanted her. He's a good Mormon and hard working. He's made a lot ofmoney, I believe----"
"He's a piece of granite without any soul," put in a man in the party.
"Strike it hard enough, and sparks will fly," said one of the women.
The Motor Maids and Miss Campbell exchanged looks of dismay.
"Married the day after to-morrow," they repeated in whispers. "Andstopping in this hotel. Where, oh where, was Daniel Moore?"
They glanced at the door uneasily.
"I think we'd better not stop in here, children," said Miss Campbell ina low voice. "It would be only a kindness to keep Mr. Moore from cominginto the dining room while they are there."
She led the way into the broad spacious hall of the hotel. But DanielMoore had not been seen at the desk, nor was he in any of the parlors.
While they searched, Billie examined the hotel register. There on thesame page with their own names were the three names--"John James Stone,Miss Stone, Ebenezer Stone." Six lines above John James Stone, DanielMoore had written his name in a fine, manly hand. Billie noted thenumber of Evelyn's room, and then followed her friends up to bed.
"It's too late for us to interfere, I am afraid," said Miss Campbellsadly, as they stood in a silent little group in her room.