CHAPTER IV.--THE THREE WISHES.

  "It's a queer thing," declared Nancy, when Takamini had shown them intotwo neat bare-looking bedrooms upstairs, "it's really a very strangething indeed."

  "What?" demanded her friends.

  "That our wish has come true, just as if we had rubbed Aladdin's lamp.We wished for a dinner and we got it."

  "We haven't got it yet," said Elinor sceptically.

  But Nancy was a very superstitious young person, who put infinite faithin the Rule of Three.

  "We shall have it in an hour. That's what Takamini told us just now. Andif two wishes come true, three will, so I'm going to make another."

  "But what is the second wish, Nancy-Bell?" they asked.

  "Didn't we all of us wish not to be homesick?"

  "We didn't say so."

  "Well, anyway, we thought so. And thinking is the same as speaking. Thatwish has come true because the homesickness has all gone, hasn't it?"

  They were obliged to admit that it had. The adventure had dispelledtheir doleful vapors.

  "We should all unite on the third wish, then," said Mary, "seeing thatthe other wishes were common to everybody."

  "What shall it be, then?" demanded Nancy. "Quick, before the luck getsby."

  "Foolish child," said Miss Campbell, "I believe that little head ofyours is cramful of nonsense."

  "You are a doubter, Miss Campbell," objected Nancy. "We shall have tobanish you from the magic circle if you feel that way. You cast a darkshadow over the spell."

  "Oh, no, dear, don't make me an outsider, I beg of you. I promise not toscoff."

  The truth is, Miss Campbell was slightly superstitious herself.

  "But what is to be the wish?" they asked.

  "Something we all of us want."

  It is difficult to make one wish common to five separate and distinctindividualities.

  "I might wish to get my fifty dollars back," observed Miss Campbell,"only I don't look for miracles."

  "We might wish for a safe journey to San Francisco," laughed Billie;"but that would cover too much ground for one wish."

  "Suppose we wish to see Peter Van Vechten again soon," suggested Nancy.

  Not one of the five ladies who would not have been pleased, secretly ofcourse, to meet once more that strange adventurer of the skies, in spiteof the grave suspicion which rested upon him.

  "You might ask him for your purse, Cousin Helen," suggested Billie.

  "I shall always believe there was some mistake," answered her cousin.

  "Anyhow, let's take the chances and wish for another meeting," saidElinor, "then Miss Campbell can say, 'Mr. Van Vechten, kindly restore myproperty.' Only she won't, because she hates to hurt other people'sfeelings."

  "Very well, then, all at once," cried Nancy, forcing them into a closecircle. "Now join hands and close your eyes and make the silent wish.Concentrate two minutes."

  "Nancy, dear, I think you have been studying dream books," exclaimedMiss Campbell, amused at this ridiculous mummery.

  Nevertheless, at precisely two minutes to one o'clock by the timepieceon the mantel, five pairs of hands joined together and five identicaland simultaneous wishes went forth into space. Five little thoughtmessengers linked together by a single wish, went out together into thevast universe. Then they separated and each took a different directionin search of that mysterious birdman, whose eyes at least were clear andbrown and honest. And the first little winged thought who found PeterVan Vechten was to summon his aerial brothers from the ether. Promptlythey would join hands and dancing in a circle about his head, as eachpassed an ear would whisper the message.

  When the clock struck one the Motor Maids and Miss Campbell unlockedhands, and smiling quite gravely, considering it was all a joke,proceeded with their toilet for the luncheon of glorious anticipation.

  That Mr. Daniel Moore's establishment was guiltless of any woman's touchwas plainly evident. There was not a sign of femininity about it. It wasas bare as a barracks and as plain as an old shoe. But the beds weresoft and comfortable, as Miss Campbell could testify, for she took a napon one of them in the interval which must be spent before lunch wasannounced.

  After the girls had fluffed up their front hair or smoothed it outaccording to custom, and had brushed every fleck of dust from their neattraveling skirts, and washed the stains of the journey from their freshyoung faces, they began to look about the rooms, to peer from thewindows and peep into the hall, while they talked in whispers.

  On a shelf in one of the rooms were some books, the one human touch theynoticed. Mary, always a bookworm, began dipping her inquisitive littlenose into these immediately. She had opened a volume of Kipling's poemsand was reading aloud in a sing-song voice:

  "On the road to Mandalay, Where the flying fishes play----"

  when something fell from between the pages into her lap. It was asouvenir postcard, which had, apparently, been serving as a book-mark.Without meaning to pry, Mary picked it up and turned it over to look atthe picture on the other side, which proved to be a photograph of alovely girl holding a Boston bull terrier on a leash. She was tall andslender, and seemed to sway toward them from the picture like a youngtree in the wind. It had evidently been quite breezy when the picturewas taken, for one hand grasped her broad-brimmed felt hat, while theother held the dog leash. She was smiling, too, and there was a gaylight in her eyes which seemed to challenge the whole world to make hersad.

  Mary had not meant to read the message written across the picture, butis it ever possible to examine a picture on a postcard without taking inthe words at the bottom? Besides, it was a harmless message:

  "A snapshot smile from Evelyn.

  Salt Lake City, Utah."

  Now, Salt Lake City was a place of intense interest to the Motor Maids.They regarded it as a traveler in the Orient might look upon one ofthose mysterious Eastern cities where women went veiled and faces peepedat one from behind obscure gratings.

  "Do you suppose this pretty girl is a Mormon?" exclaimed Mary,exhibiting the photograph.

  "She is much too pretty to be a Mormon," said Nancy decisively.

  "Can't Mormons be handsome?" asked Billie, looking at the postcard overNancy's shoulder.

  "They are just like other people, goosie," put in Elinor, neverthelesslooking at the picture with extreme interest.

  "I always imagined the men were tall and thin with lantern jaws and longwhite beards, and the women were small and plain with straight hairtwisted into scraggy little knots behind."

  They were still laughing over Nancy's vague idea of the citizens of SaltLake City when the Japanese servant gave them a start by appearing atthe door as noiselessly as one who walked on air.

  "Luncheon is served," he announced rapidly in a funny high voice.

  It was almost impossible to conceal from him their eagerness to be attable. Nancy secretly hoped there would be fried chicken, but she didn'tcare really if only there were no canned vegetables in bird-seed dishes.They all wondered if their host would be able to appear despite hismaimed leg.

  But he was there to meet them, waiting in the living room of thefarmhouse, which was fitted up quite comfortably with big easy chairs,an immense writing table, and many books on shelves lining the walls.Mr. Moore's wholesome, manly face showed not a trace of the pain he hadendured an hour ago, and when he led the way to the dining room, it waswith only a slight limp.

  "But I thought you had a bad sprain, Mr. Moore," said Miss Campbell,"and here I find you walking as well as any of us."

  "It's all gone," he answered. "I--" he hesitated a moment. "I----"

  But the fragrance of the viands about to be set before them drove allother thoughts from their minds.

  It was all a curious adventure, indeed. Here was an entire strangerdispensing hospitality to them most graciously, and here were they, eventhat fastidious and dainty little lady, eating with appetites ofstarving people.

  There was no fried chicken, but there were beefsteak and mush
rooms andnew potatoes and asparagus, a very fine expensive salad made ofgrapefruit, and as a last perfect touch, strawberries and cream.

  The motor party had planned to leave Mr. Moore's place half an hourafter lunch and start on their travels again, but while they feastedblack clouds had been piling themselves into a formidable storm and nowcame flashes of lightning and the rumble of thunder. The house grew sodark that Takamini lit some candles and placed them on the table.

  Then came the rain, pouring in torrents.

  Miss Campbell looked uncomfortable.

  "I am afraid, Mr. Moore, you have undertaken more than you expected,"she said.

  But Mr. Moore was quite equal to this call upon his hospitality. "I hopeit will be one of our three-day storms," he said smiling cordially. "Theroads would be far too muddy for motoring then, and I should have thepleasure of entertaining you longer."

  "Oh, we couldn't let you do that, Mr. Moore. You are too kind. We mustgo to the next town and stop at the hotel."

  "I assure you, Miss Campbell, you are like messengers from heaven. Youcame in the nick of time to keep me from being plunged into such a stateof gloom I might never have come out of it."

  "But you don't look gloomy," protested Nancy.

  "I know," he replied. "People of my complexion never get the credit forbeing melancholy. But occasionally, you know, we are subject to spasmsdue chiefly to loneliness, I think."

  They had drifted back into the sitting room now and the rain was beatingon the windows in torrents. It was chilly, and they were glad to seeTakamini light a wood fire in the open brick fire-place. Miss Campbell,seated in a big leather chair in the chimney corner, dozed off in thewarmth of the firelight, her head drooping to one side like a tiredlittle bird's.

  The four girls gathered around the table, while Mr. Moore taking a largeatlas from a shelf, opened at the map of the United States and spread iton the table.

  "Now," he said, "tell me about the trip. Are you the captain of theexpedition, Miss Billie?"

  "Yes," replied the others in unison.

  "Cousin Helen is the general," said Billie, "and we are just her staff.I am chief guide because I know how to run the motor, but everybody hasa place. We could never give these parties if one of us dropped out."

  "Well, it's a jolly party," said their host. "You are five very braveladies, I think. I only know one other as brave."

  "Does she live in Salt Lake City?" asked Nancy innocently.

  The other girls looked annoyed and Nancy herself was sorry after she hadmade this impulsive speech. But Daniel Moore was not at all annoyed. Hewas only a little surprised.

  "Why, yes," he answered, "you guessed right the very first time. How didit happen?"

  "Well," began Nancy and paused, greatly embarrassed, "I just guessed,"which was a perfectly true statement.

  "You are a very good guesser, then, Miss Nancy. Perhaps you would liketo see a picture of the young lady who is as brave as you are."

  "Do show it to us," they exclaimed with enthusiasm.

  Mr. Moore opened a table drawer and produced a large photograph of thesame beautiful girl whose face they had seen hardly an hour beforesmiling at them from the postcard.

  "How pretty she is!" ejaculated Nancy.

  "Isn't she?" he answered quite frankly.

  "And is she a Mormon?" demanded Mary.

  "She isn't; but her father is," he answered, a frown wrinkling his brow."Her father is the most confounded old Mormon that ever grew up in thefaith. He thinks that all non-Mormons are just kittle-kattle."

  "And is that the reason--" began Nancy, while her friends trembled forfear of what the inquisitive child would ask next.

  "The reason I was so blue?" he asked gently. "It certainly was. Youguessed right again. If you had six guesses, I believe you would get sixsecrets from me, Miss Nancy," he laughed.

  "Then you are not a Mormon?" asked Billie.

  "Most assuredly not. I was born in Kentucky, educated at Harvard andsettled on this farm my uncle left me three years ago. But before that Ispent some time in Salt Lake City."

  "What a shame!" exclaimed Mary.

  "What's a shame?" he asked.

  Mary blushed and stammered.

  "That you--that she--I mean, that the father----"

  "It is a shame," he interrupted, evidently enjoying his confession tothe four earnest young girls immensely. "And the worst of it is that Ican't even write to her and as for seeing her, I might as well try andsee the Empress of China. I can't get a letter to her because all hermail is opened by that old dragon of a father."

  "And can't Evelyn write to you?" asked Nancy, her eyes as big assaucers.

  Daniel Moore began laughing joyfully.

  "I've caught you," he cried, his handsome face lit up with merriment.Nancy could have bit her tongue for having thoughtlessly mentioned thegirl's name. The other girls could not help joining in the laughter.Miss Campbell waked up a moment, smiled sleepily at the group and closedher eyes again. The thunder of the rain on the roof and the whistle ofthe wind as it blew around the corner of the house muffled their voicesinto far-away sounds.

  "Confess, now, Miss Nancy. You know this young lady."

  "Only by sight."

  He looked at her puzzled.

  "You've met her somewhere perhaps?"

  "Only her snapshot smile."

  "Oh, ho!" he cried. "You've been reading Kipling."

  Nancy bowed her head.

  "We couldn't help reading the message at the same time we saw thepostcard. We know it was impolite."

  "I only wish it had been more of a message," said Daniel Moore. "It wasthe last one I have ever had from her."

  "Why don't you go and find her?" suggested gallant Billie.

  "I have been," he answered. "I've almost camped out in front of herhouse. I've done about everything I could do without breaking down thedoor and abducting her. If I could only get one more message to her,somehow----"

  "Why couldn't we take it?" asked Billie. "We're going to Salt LakeCity."

  Daniel Moore rested his chin on his hand and sat thinking.

  "Why, you could," he said at last. "You could do that thing for me and Iwould be everlastingly in your debt. It could be done in this waywithout any risk for any one concerned. You could write her a note as ifyou were an old school friend and ask her to meet you."

  "But she wouldn't know who I was," protested Billie.

  "No; I'm thinking of that, too. But she would recognise this line: 'Haveyou forgotten that jolly day at Fontainebleau?'"

  "Oh," said Billie.

  "Then you could give her the note from me and that would be all you hadto do."

  At this moment the master of the house was called away by one of theservants, and the girls began discussing in low voices the romanticerrand which was to cast a glamour of even greater interest around SaltLake City. As they leaned over the maps chatting together there was ablinding flash of lightning and a terrific clap of thunder. MissCampbell, frightened from her nap, hurried to them. They waited a momentin silence. Presently far down the avenue they heard the whirr of amotor car. There was something ominous and terrifying in the sound.Another moment, it had stopped in front of the house. The hall door wasflung open; there was the noise of hurrying footsteps; then theliving-room door was opened and in the dim light there stood beforethem, just for the fraction of a second, Peter Van Vechten. There was awild look in his eyes which searched their faces without recognition.The door closed as suddenly as it had opened, and he was gone.

  "The third wish came true," whispered Nancy as they pressed together infrightened wonder.

  Presently there was a noise of footsteps and low voices in the hall. Allthe household must have been gathered there speaking in muffled tones.Tramp, tramp, tramp down the hall went the footsteps. A door closedsomewhere and all was as still as death. Then came the sound of themotor again, gradually dying out as it flew down the avenue.

  Had anything happened, they wondered. They were frightened an
d uneasy.The house seemed to be filled with a mysterious silence.

  Their host did not come back to them that afternoon, but retiring totheir rooms they put on their prettiest frocks to do honor to hisdinner, where he joined them at seven o'clock, looking a little pale andworried, they thought.