CHAPTER IX.--THE GIRL FROM THE GOLDEN WEST.
"It's like being in a play, Elinor," whispered Mary, who was sittingnext to her at the long dinner table in the dining room of the littlehotel. "They are all here, cowboys and curious looking people. And therewere two Indians at the door a moment ago. The cowboys are like BarneyMcGee. They have good, rough manners."
The Motor Maids felt as if they had known that ingratiating young man along time now. Twice he had bobbed up unexpectedly on their journey, andfinally made them promise to visit the ranch where he lived in SouthernWyoming, if only for a half a day.
The room they were in was low-ceiled with wooden walls and bare boardfloors. At one side was a large yellow oak sideboard where stood rows ofglass tumblers in which folded fringed napkins with red borders had beenstuck, like so many bouquets. The table was filled with guests and twoshabby looking young waitresses handed the dishes with a kind ofcareless abandon which seemed to be in keeping with the place.
Many of the people were to take the stage next morning to a ranch whichwas conducted as a sanitarium. There were several trained nurses who hadbrought their patients along, and Billie turned her eyes away from oneyoung man whose pale face and sunken chest made her ashamed of her ownglowing health and sunburned cheeks.
Not even in Europe had Billie seen such an interesting and variedcollection of people in one dining room as she now saw in this remoteand obscure little western inn. There was a group of young Englishmenwho had bought a great cattle ranch and were on their way to inspect it.There was a party of men traveling West by motor car. Two of them werefamous millionaires, she heard it whispered. But most interesting ofall, and the one on whom the Motor Maids cast many covert and curiousglances, was a beautiful young woman who seemed to be traveling alone.
It so happened that she was placed next to Miss Campbell, who hadgathered her charges under her wing at one end of the table, as ananxious little hen gathers her chicks, but by leaning over, they wereable to see the strange girl's lovely face; her hazel eyes and red goldhair half hidden under a broad brimmed riding hat. She wore a khakiriding suit with divided skirts, and knotted about her neck was abeautiful burnt orange silk scarf that seemed to tone in with the yellowof her eyes and hair.
They wondered where her party was. Evidently she did not belong to anyone at the table for she spoke to no person and scarcely lifted her eyesfrom her plate.
"Perhaps her mother is ill and she has had to come down alone," thoughtElinor, who had conventional ideas rooted so deeply in her soul thatnothing could stir them.
"May I ask you for the butter?" Miss Campbell had said in her mostpolite and perfect manner, and that had started the conversational balla-rolling.
"With pleasure," answered the strange girl promptly, "although I amafraid you'll be disappointed with the bread. It's quite soggy."
"Perhaps you will allow me to offer you some of our zwieback," put inMiss Campbell, stretching forth her hand for the box. "We have it sentto us from time to time, because we simply cannot eat the bread outhere."
"You are traveling West?" asked the girl.
Then Miss Campbell, always ready and willing to make friends, explainedand introduced the Motor Maids.
There was something extremely appealing about the beautiful face of thestranger, and when presently she saw that she was attracting the noticeof other people at the table, she blushed and pulled her hat well downover her face, and drew nearer to Miss Campbell's side. The girls likedher from the first. Then there was the mystery about her which added toher charm--the mystery of whom she was and where she was going. She hadasked questions, but had volunteered nothing about herself.
After dinner they strolled into the hall of the hotel, which served as asort of lobby, where they hoped to find letters awaiting them from theevening mail. The girl followed them timidly.
"I hope I'm not in the way or presuming too much," she said to MissCampbell, as they proceeded into the hotel parlor to wait for the mailstage.
"Not at all, my dear," answered the kind soul. "If it is any pleasure toyou, I'm sure it is a great pleasure to us. Are you alone?"
"Yes," hesitated the girl.
"You are taking a riding trip?" Miss Campbell looked at the riding suit.
"Yes."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"Don't you think it just a little bit of a risk, my dear?"
"It's not a pleasure trip. I--I'm looking for a place to live."
"Oh, then you have no people?"
The girl hung her head. The Motor Maids were quite breathless withinterest.
"My dear child," continued Miss Campbell, kindly, taking the younggirl's hand, "it's none of my business, but I am an old woman, and Ifeel I must give advice to a beautiful young girl. Let me beg of you tothink a long time before you do anything rash. Girls leave home thinkinglife will be easy and it so often turns out to be very, very hard."
"But I've been very unhappy," whispered the girl choking. "You can'tunderstand--you can't know----"
Two tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, the sight ofwhich was beyond the endurance of the Motor Maids. They gathered aroundher in a solicitous little group. They took her hands and pressedagainst her and patted her on the shoulder. And Miss Campbell keptsaying:
"There, there, my dear, you mustn't cry. I am afraid I hurt you."
While the girl was choking back her tears and at the same timeendeavoring to tell them in a broken voice that things at home had beenunbearable, Billie and Elinor, who were facing the entrance, saw a verytall, black figure darken the doorway. Only for a moment he stood there,a great square shouldered, ungainly man who gave the impression ofhaving been carved out of a block of wood, from the straight folds ofhis black Prince Albert coat to his square cut iron gray beard, whichhad once been black. The only live thing about him appeared to be hisfiery dark eyes, which now took them all in with one sweeping,comprehensive glance.
The two girls almost shuddered and felt a certain relief when hepromptly withdrew from the door.
"Won't you come to our rooms and tell us all about it, dear?" MissCampbell was saying. "Perhaps we can help you and at least I can takeyou under my protection while we are here."
"You are under arrest, Miss. Don't make no noise and I won't make none,"said a sharp shrill whispering voice behind them, and a long skinny handwas thrust into their midst, grasping the runaway by her arm.
"Let me go! How dare you?" she exclaimed, a flood of color rushing intoher cheeks.
"Now, don't make no scene," said a shabby, unkempt looking individual."You know who wants you as well as I do. He's there in the hall, and youknow mighty well he's not goin' to let you go this time."
"Oh, save me! save me!" whispered the girl, hiding her face on MissCampbell's shoulder.
The little lady drew herself up to her full height of five feet twoinches and glared at the man.
"This young lady has placed herself under my protection, sir, and Irefuse to have her annoyed. Will you please leave the room?"
The man was so overcome by Miss Campbell's grand air that he fell back astep in astonishment.
"Lady," he said, after a pause, "you won't make nothin' by interferin'in this here case. This young lady stole a horse out of her father'sstable and run away from home, an' if you don't believe it, you can askhim----"
"It was my own horse," said the girl stamping her foot.
"Evelyn!" the voice which spoke was so deep and resonant it might havecome up from some subterranean cavern. It made them all start, and whenthe name was repeated again, Miss Campbell fairly shivered at the sound.
"Evelyn!"
"Yes, father," answered the girl faintly.
"Come at once."
White as a sheet, with her hands clasped together as if to give herselfcourage, Evelyn turned to the great wooden tower of a man.
"I don't want to, father. I prefer to stay here with--with my friends."
The man took out a gold watch as big as a t
urnip and looked at it.
"I will give you three minutes to obey," he said.
The girls had a feeling Evelyn was going to her doom, and this was herlast farewell. She threw her arms around Miss Campbell's neck and kissedher; then she kissed each of the Motor Maids. She might have been adevoted daughter and loving sister saying good-by for a long time.
"Good-by! Good-by!" she whispered, trying to stifle her sobs.
Curious people were beginning to drift into the parlor.
The next moment there was the sound of an automobile outside and Evelynwas whisked off in the darkness.
"Dear, dear, dear," ejaculated Miss Campbell "I am so upset! Thatexquisite young girl and that terrible giant creature of a father!"
"Her name was Evelyn, too. Wasn't it queer?" observed Nancy.
"Evelyn, Evelyn," they repeated.
"Evelyn Stone. Mr. Daniel Moore's Evelyn Stone."
In an instant they were all talking at once. It was Evelyn Stone. Theyrecognized her now from the picture, although there was only really afaint resemblance. What picture could do justice to such coloring? Theauburn hair, the golden brown eyes and the blush that crept in and outof her face with her changing emotions. But it was she, they were sureof it. She had the same smile--the "snapshot smile."
"If we had only recognized her sooner," cried Billie. "We might havedelivered the letter. We might have saved her from that great dragon ofa father. We might have done dozens of things."
They were deep in their thought when the stage drove up to the door witha great flourish and a man hastily dragged in several bags of mail.
Everybody gathered around the desk to wait for letters, and when themotor party had each received a package of mail, the first for manydays, they hurried to their rooms to read the last news from home. MissCampbell had half a dozen letters to engross her attention, and it wasnot until she had read the last word of every one that she opened apackage covered with postmarks, showing it had been forwarded from placeto place and had followed them over most of their route.
"My goodness gracious me," she cried out in a loud astonished voice asshe drew out the contents of the packet.
The girls dropped their letters and ran into her room.
"What is it?" they demanded breathlessly.
"My morocco pocket book with the fifty dollars, the one I lost----"
Miss Campbell could say no more. She was quite overcome and on the vergeof tears. She handed a note to Billie to read aloud.
Dear Madam: (it ran)
I picked this pocketbook up in my field, though how it happened to be near a broken box kite I cannot tell you. I am sending it to the address on the visiting card and would be glad if you would notify me that you have received it.
Yours truly, James Erdman, Dealer in Vegetables, Poultry and Eggs.
"He is a very honest man," exclaimed Miss Helen at last, when Billie hadfinished reading the note.
"And Peter Van Vechten----?" began Mary.
They all looked at each other silently.
"How glad I am he escaped," cried Miss Campbell. "Never, never will Iaccuse anyone on circumstantial evidence again."
"I am the one to apologize to him," said Billie. "I insulted him."
"All of us did, I think," put in Elinor.
"We called him a thief," added Nancy sadly.
"I was the one who cut the cords," at last Mary volunteered in a smallvoice.
How they pummeled her and laughed.
"And never told, you sly minx!" they cried.
But Billie meant some day to apologize openly to Peter Van Vechten.