"I bet she was disappointed," she said slowly.
"Who was disappointed?" Libby wanted to know.
"Maude Woodbridge, the little girl Lady Maude was going to. I wonder what she thought when Lady Maude never got there."
"Maybe she never even knew the doll was coming," Libby suggested. "That letter was in the box, so she never got it either."
"But she would know about it after her father got home," Christie said. "I wonder if he told her all about Lady Maude. If he did she must have been so sorry she was lost. Why, it's over a hundred years ago! Lady Maude has been lost a long time."
"Look—" Libby had glanced up at gathering clouds. "Rain's coming. We'd better get back under cover."
They dared not hurry too fast in repacking everything for fear they might lose some of the tiny things, so the first big drops fell just as Christie closed the box lid on Lady Maude. Now that she had seen it all she felt that she simply could not leave that box in the cave again. But they pulled it back with them out of the beginning storm.
"We didn't find anything else but a lot of old clothes and such stuff," Neal was plainly disappointed.
"Passengers' luggage." Toliver thumped a small trunk. "But people like to look at old clothes—if they're as queer as some of these. They do belong in a museum, I guess. And we have the shotgun, that belt and holster out of the rats' nest—"
"And the strongbox," Parky reminded them. "Maybe it does have gold dust or something like that in it."
Neal looked a little more cheerful. Christie wondered what he had expected to find. There could not be, she was sure, any more such wonderful surprises as Lady Maude.
"There're some pictures. Look here!" Neal snapped open a case. Fitted neatly into sections made to hold them were a number of small boxes. Some were square, some oval, one or two round. Neal pried one out and opened it so the girls could see a framed picture of a woman. She wore clothes like those of Lady Maude and rested her elbow on a pillar so she looked stiff and uncomfortable, as if having one's picture taken hurt.
"All different pictures." Neal snapped the big case shut again. "This was inside with them." He held out a card covered with his own dusty fingerprints.
" 'Hiram Peabody, Representative, Smith-ers and Son, Supplies for Photography Studios—' "
"These must have been samples—the kind of picture frames people liked then. That's all— just clothes, the strongbox, and the mail sack. Oh, yes, and the doll. We can't keep them here in the cave to show off like we thought—they'd all get too dirty."
"We could have cases—glass ones—in the station house," suggested Christie. Lady Maude must be protected.
"Have to be a lot of cases, maybe. And I don't know about showing off old clothes," Neal answered doubtfully.
"Lady Maude's best! She's wonderful!" Perks cried. "You didn't see—but she has all sorts of things! Little, little hairpins, and hankies, and a bustle—that makes her dress stick out in the back like the ladies' in the olden days—Christie showed me. Anybody would want to see Lady Maude!"
"Yeah? She really comes with all that?" Neal demanded of Christie, showing much more interest.
"More things than I ever thought any doll could—like a Barbie, only the things are all old, as they had then and not now. She's just like the doll Mrs. Edwards said was a 'museum piece'—only better, because she was never handled much or had her things lost. So—we put her in a museum—our very own."
"We'd have to find out about getting a case. And with everybody so busy, maybe we'd better not bother them about it now," Neal said doubtfully.
Leave Lady Maude here! Christie could hardly bear to think of that. But she had been safe for a good many years, so perhaps a few more days would not matter. Mother would be so surprised. Christie wanted so much to show her. She bent over to shove the box farther back against the wall and the letter she put inside her shirt prodded against her. Should she put that back in the box? Or would it be better to take it to the station—maybe show it to Mother?
"I'm hungry." Parky tugged at the fastening on the picnic basket and Shan uttered one of his sharp cries for immediate attention.
Libby brushed a clean space on the floor with one of the leafy branches and Neal and Toliver went to the mouth of the cave to hold their hands out into the now steadily falling rain for a quick wash, herding Parky along to do likewise. The girls opened the basket and the bags the Wildhorses had brought.
"That rain's so thick it looks like a wall," Neal reported, "and there's a big stream running along out there."
"Won't last long," Toliver said as the boys wiped their hands on the paper towels Christie handed around.
When they settled down to eat, they faced out into the rain. As Neal had said, it was now a curtain. Somehow that seemed to make the inside of the cave a big safe room.
"You know"—Toliver licked a bit of mustard from one brown finger—"it's funny Mr. Toner hasn't been around yet to see what's going on at the station."
"Who's Mr. Toner?"
"He's boss over at the ranch, wants the water rights at the spring. Looking at all that rain just going to waste made me think about him. Pinto's had to be tough with old G.T. the past few years. There was something in the law about the station—it couldn't be sold for a long time. Well, Pinto was worried about this year 'cause that law was running out, and he thought G.T. would get it. Must have made him feel good to have you folks arrive. Did your father buy it from the company?"
"Pinto did say something about that." Neal chewed away thoughtfully at a sandwich. "I remember now. But it must be ours now or we wouldn't have moved here."
"How come you wanted to be here anyway?" Toliver asked.
"Well, Dad lost his job in Mayfield. His company was bought out by another firm. And Dad always wanted to live out here. You see, when he was in the army a couple of fellows in his outfit were Navajos. When the war was over he visited them out here, and he liked the country a lot. But there wasn't any sort of job he could do here then. He kept talking about it, showing pictures he took and reading a lot of books.
"Then he heard about them opening the new park and building the highway. He was going to buy a motel, but the down payment was too big. Some real estate man wrote him about this place. He sent Dad pictures and a Mr. Colby who was in the army with Dad was willing to go partners. Dad's to run the station and Mr. Colby is going to manage the publicity—"
"Dad had to borrow a lot of money for it too," Parky suddenly piped up. "He worries about that."
"Parky!" Christie demanded. "How did you—"
"I heard him telling Mom—with my own ears I heard him. So did Perks, didn't you?"
His twin nodded. "He said it was awfully important to get the place ready fast and yet not spend too much. Christie, you said maybe Lady Maude is worth a lot of money. Could we sell her and give the money to Dad, and then maybe he wouldn't.worry so much."
"She really isn't ours—yet," Christie answered. "If we could use her to show people, make them want to come to the station to see her, that would help. But she belongs to Maude Woodbridge, not to us, and we'd have to give her back if we were asked."
"That Maude Woodbridge must be dead," Libby said. "Why, she'd be over a hundred! I don't think she'll be asking for Lady Maude, I really don't."
Christie thought about the long time between 1875 and now and felt a little safer. Maybe they could claim Lady Maude. Christie hated to think of selling her. She had so plain in her mind a picture of a big glass case standing at the station house with Lady Maude and all her lovely little things arranged carefully in it. She just knew people would want to see her.
"G.T."—Toliver was back to his own thoughts—"is going to be awfully mad that your father got the station. I don't see how he was able to get it either. G.T. must have had a real estate man all ready to grab it as soon as it was up for sale. He's wanted it for years."
"Maybe he doesn't know anything about it," suggested Libby. "He went east to get Marlene from school, rememb
er? If they were home they'd both be over here by now. Marlene likes to show off her mare."
"You don't like her, do you?" Christie asked.
Libby shrugged. "You don't get to know her enough to either like her or not like her. We're Indians—that's all the Toners know."
Toliver scowled. "Sure. Indians are like some kind of zoo animals as far as the Toners are concerned."
"G.T. called the sheriff once to make us move on when we camped here. Only for once he was wrong." Libby smiled. "Father's second cousin married the sheriffs nephew and Sheriff Wylie himself has a half-Navajo grandmother."
"So Wylie came over in the jeep." Toliver took up the story. "Had him a real solemn face on. G.T. came down to watch us being pushed off. Then Wylie, he looked at the paper Dad carries—it's from the old treaty and it says that any Navajo has the right to stay at the station 'as long as the spring there runs', 'cause they helped out when the Apaches raided. So Wylie tells G.T. that the treaty was signed by the President himself and is law."
"Then"—Libby's smile grew wider—"Pinto said that G.T. himself was trespassing and wanted the sheriff to warn him off. And Sheriff Wylie said that if the legal caretaker—that's Pinto—registered a complaint, he had to listen. And Pinto told Mr. Toner he was trespassing."
"Old G.T. started up his station wagon so fast," Toliver added, "we thought he'd never make the turn out and hit smack into a wall. He just scraped by."
"His face was as red as the cliff. He didn't come back all the time we were here," Libby ended.
"That doesn't mean he'll give up wanting the water rights," Toliver warned. "Perhaps he'll be after your father to sell out to him."
"Dad won't," Neal said confidently. "Hey, the rain's stopped." He stood up. "We can't do any more here until we get something to open the strongbox. No use just sitting around. I vote we go home, come back tomorrow with some tools."
Christie was putting leftovers back in the basket. She glanced longingly at Lady Maude's box. Shouldn't they take that with them? Now that Toliver had broken through the sealing and they had opened it, perhaps one of those rats might get in, drag off Lady Maude to the big nest. However, when she suggested taking it along, Toliver shook his head.
"The lid's too tight down. Opening it up made the things inside expand. Nothing's going to get in there. We might as well leave it for now. With the rain just over, walking may be kind of hard, water holes and such, and we wouldn't want to drop it into one of those."
Christie had to agree against her will. Shan had gone to the entrance to the cave and was now shaking his forepaws vigorously, one after the other, uttering loudly his dislike of a dripping-wet outer world.
"Here." Libby emptied what remained in her tote back into the Kimballs' basket. She lifted Shan and dropped him into the bag. "You'd better carry him this way. As Toliver said, the walking may be hard and you can manage him better."
Toliver was right. The flood of rain had left pools along the floor of the small side canyon. The girls splashed ahead, leaving Neal and Toliver to reseal the cave. At last they had to sit down on still-wet rocks and take off their sandals, roll up their jeans as far as they could, and also see that Parky and Perks were similarly prepared to wade on.
Christie went slowly and carefully. The drifts of sand were soft enough under her feet, but she cried out once when she stepped on a rough piece of gravel.
Libby said quickly,/"Look out for cactus bits, Perks, Parky—keep away from those. Give me your hand, Perks. Parky, you go with Christie. We'd better leave the basket here and the boys can carry it. Now—go slow and watch out!"
Twice Libby stopped them all until she could pick up and throw away a spiky piece. Christie was very glad when they were able to squeeze between the entrance rocks and see the meadow ahead.
In spite of rolling up their jeans, those were wet as far as their knees. And it was hard to get their sandals over wet feet to which the sand now stuck like a queer sort of socks. Parky refused to try wearing foot covering until Libby held up a cactus spike right before his eyes.
After the desert the meadow was very green and rain-washed. Susie, Old Timer, and two Navajo horses were grazing as if the fall of water had not bothered them at all, though patches of wet showed on their hides. Christie suddenly remembered what Father had said about washouts on the road when sudden rains came and hoped Mother would not have trouble driving.
"What about the car?" she asked Libby. "Mother and your mother. If they were coming back from town—"
"Washouts? No, I don't think so. This really wasn't a bad storm. You don't need to worry, Christie. It smells clean now, doesn't it?"
Christie, surprised at Libby's question, threw back her head and sniffed. There was a freshness in the air, and she thought she could smell flowers. Shan wriggled and kicked in the bag. His head appeared at the open top and Christie was just in time to prevent his jumping out.
They swished on through the tall grass and passed the Wildhorse van, making for the station house. When they arrived there they discovered that the men were no longer working. Rather they had gathered around looking at a big station wagon. Christie had thought that the Kimball car, meant to carry all of them and camping gear, was large. But this one was even bigger, newer—shiny where the rain had washed off the dust. On the nearest door were big red letters: G. T. Ranch.
"Mr. Toner," Libby said. But there was no one in the driver's seat.
As they came closer, a girl looked at them through the other front window. She had red hair tied back with a bright green ribbon that matched her green shirt. Most of her face was masked by big, dark sunglasses. The glasses had bright green rims, too, which made, Christie thought, their wearer look rather like a grasshopper.
The girl swung open the door and slid out. She also had on pale tan slacks and small, high-heeled riding boots. Facing the girls, she stood with her hands on her hips, staring at them and the twins as if this were her home and they were the trespassers.
"You the Kimball kids?" Her voice was shrill and high, and she did not even glance toward Libby. Nor did she wait for Christie to answer. "Tough luck, having to move again—"
What did she mean, move again? Perhaps the stranger read the bewilderment in Christie's expression, or else she was full of news she just had to tell.
"Your Dad made a bad bargain. This station's part of the G.T. spread now."
Christie was so startled she must have hugged Shan too tightly, for he gave a loud hiss and flattened his ears. What did the girl mean? She must be crazy—the station was their own! Father had said so and he had meant it. She caught her breath again and now determined that the girl was not going to frighten her with such a big lie.
Ignoring the stranger, she spoke to Libby. "Come on in, I'll get some towels and we can dry off." With her shoulders straight back, and her head firmly up, she marched by the Toner girl, her lips pressed tightly together.
Danger for Lady Maude
Just as it had been so noisy yesterday morning at the station, now it was very quiet. The workmen had left. Father had driven into town as soon as Mother had come back the day before to see someone at the bank. He was away a very long time. When Christie had gone to bed he had not yet returned, though when she awoke early in the morning the car was again standing in the untidy yard among the supplies to restore the station.
Was what Marlene Toner had said true? Did Mr. Toner really own the station and would the Kimballs have to move? Where were they going to go—back east again?
"Chris," Perks pattered over barefooted, her rumpled pajamas twisted about her legs, Raggedy Ann under her arm. Shan sat in the door of their room yawning, and Baron was outside barking, announcing it was time to feed a hungry dog.
"Chris," Perks repeated, tugging now at her sister's sleeve, "do we have to move?"
"I don't know. Anyway—not today."
"I don't want to go. Parky and Neal—they're going to open the treasure box. Chris, if there's money inside that—can't we give it to
Daddy and help him keep the station?"
All the money in the world, Christie thought, might not make Mr. Toner let go of land he wanted. She knew that Father had been greatly worried yesterday—nearly as worried as he had been when he lost that job back in Mayfield.
"I know one thing," she said suddenly, "Marlene isn't going to get lady Maude!"
"But—how could she?" Perks wanted to know. "We found her—Marlene didn't."
"But if it's true her father owns the land where the cave is, maybe he can claim anything we found there belongs to him."
"We can hide her! Then if we have to go away we can take her along and that old Marlene won't even know about her."
That was an idea that had already occurred to Christie. She nodded. "We'll try that, Perks, if we have to."
It seemed that this was a day of troubles. First both Mother and Father had to go back into town. The children were given orders to stay with the Wildhorses. In fact, Mother and Father were in such a hurry to leave they said very little, except about what must be done and that Christie and Neal should take care of the twins and do what Mrs. Wildhorse told them.
Even Pinto was going with them. Perhaps, Neal and Christie decided, because he had lived at the station so long he knew more than anyone about who it really belonged to. He did not look like himself wearing a white shirt and a checked coat, with his hat on straight instead of pushed to the back of his head. And he was not happy-eyed anymore.
"We can clean up some." Christie tried to think of what might be done to help out as the car pulled away.
"You can," Neal told her shortly, "if you want to. I'm going to hunt in Pinto's place for a big hammer and a chisel. With those we can open the strongbox. If there's gold in that, Dad can sure use it now."
"But it wouldn't be our gold," Christie reminded him. "And besides, they said for us to stay right around here. We can't go to the cave today."
Neal hesitated. Their parents had been firm about that.
"We can go over to Toliver's. We can ask Mrs. Wildhorse. If she says it's all right, we can go."