Dixie Martin, the Girl of Woodford''s Cañon

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE THE PRETEND-GAME

  The sun had set, but the western sky above the mountains was a glory ofradiant colors when Ken leaped upon the low porch in front of a smalllog cabin and knocked eagerly upon the closed door. Instantly it wasopened, and Josephine Bayley, in a blue bungalow apron, appeared. Herface gladdened at sight of the small lad who was holding up a string ofglistening fish.

  "Oh, Ken, did you catch those for me?" The young woman took theproffered gift and held it up in the soft crimson light that reflectedback from the other side of the canyon.

  "No'm, teacher, 'twasn't me, though how I do wish it had been! Itwas-er-- Oh, yes, Rattlesnake Sam caught them, and he said he'd like meto dress them after you'd seen how pretty they are with their scaleson." For one panicky moment the small boy had forgotten his friend'sassumed name, and he had been on the verge of saying "Mr. Edrington."What a narrow escape that had been! For a second he was hardly consciousthat Miss Bayley was speaking, then he realized that she was asking himif the "old gentleman" had liked the book she had loaned him. "Oh,yes'm, teacher, Miss Bayley. Rattlesnake Sam, he said 'Great!' when hesaw it, and--and he told me he'd like the snake book, too, if you'd loanit to him. I'm going up to his camp next Saturday, so I could pack italong then if you could spare it."

  The girl-teacher laughed. "I can spare it all right until next spring.Since all of the snakes have hibernated for the winter, I can't get nearenough to one to see if he looks like his picture." Then, at the smallboy's suggestion, she gave him the string of trout and he at once began,in a manner that showed his skill, to prepare them for the frying-pan."Won't you stay and share them with me, Ken?" the girl-teacher asked,really hoping that he would accept.

  "Oh, no'm, thank you, I couldn't. Dixie will be expecting me back,and--and--we're sort of having trouble over at our house."

  "Ken! Trouble?" anxiously. "Why didn't you tell me this afternoon and Iwould have gone to Dixie at once. I meant to ask you after school why mylittle leader-of-songs was absent, but you disappeared so quickly afterthe bell for dismissal rang that I could not, and then I looked forCarol, and saw that she and Jimmy-Boy were running for home as fast ashis chubby legs could go. Tell me, dear, what is wrong? Can I help?"

  Ken had finished preparing the small fish, and had placed them side byside on a platter that his teacher had brought out. He handed the dishto her, and having wiped his knife, he closed it before he replied.

  "It's a queerish kind of trouble," he said. Then he told the story,beginning with Mr. Clayburn's great kindness to them, and ending withthe favor which he had asked them to do for him. "Of course Dixie'sright, she always is, but it's awful uncomfortable having some one inthe house who won't speak pleasant when she's spoken to." Then thetroubled expression vanished as the lad declared brightly, "I shouldn'twonder, though, if by now Dixie has won the game."

  Miss Bayley looked puzzled. "What game, dear?" she inquired. The ladexplained the pretend-game which Grandmother Piggins had originated whenSue had disliked her room-mate. "That blessed old lady," the youngteacher declared warmly. Then she added: "And that blessed sister ofyours, too. Of course she has won the game, Ken, and I'll prophesy thatyou'll all be in school to-morrow with your guest. Please tell SylviaClayburn that the teacher of the Woodford's Canyon school will be so gladto have her, either as a visitor or as a pupil, just as she may prefer."

  "Thanks, Miss Bayley, Dixie'll be powerful grateful to you for sendingthat message, and now I must be goin' along. It gets dark awful early,doesn't it? Good-by, teacher!"

  The lad had not gone far through the deepening dusk when he heard asweet voice calling after him, "Ken, do you think your old hermit wouldlet me go fishing with him some day?"

  "I'll--I'll ask him," was the lad's reply; then he raced off into thedarkness of the canyon.

  Here was a new problem, and one which the small boy might have realizedwas ahead of him. If his beloved Miss Bayley ever saw FrederickEdrington, she'd know he wasn't an "old hermit," and, worse than that,she'd know that Ken hadn't told the square-honest truth.

  But he felt better when he recalled that the young engineer very muchdisliked girls, and so, of course, he would keep in hiding, and equallyof course it would not be very long before he would leave the mountaincountry.

  How Ken wished that he had never agreed to let teacher think that Mr.Edrington was so old. To be sure, he hadn't really told any lies. Whathe had said was that the man who had built the camp-fire had _said_ thathis name was Rattlesnake Sam, and Mr. Edrington _had_ said that, and ofcourse even teacher knew it was an assumed name. Then, when she hadasked if the camper was old, Ken hadn't _said_ he was old; he hadreplied that Rattlesnake Sam wasn't a hundred yet. But, after all, hehadn't been square-honest. He could hardly wait until Saturday to askMr. Edrington if he might tell teacher the whole truth.

  When Ken neared the log cabin, he suddenly stopped and listened asthough he were much surprised at what he heard. Surely that was Dixiesinging, and Carol piping in at the chorus. Then, when the song wasfinished, there was a joyful clapping of small hands. What could itmean, he wondered. Ken had dreaded this home-coming, believing that hewould find the girls both on the verge of tears after a long hard day ofplaying the pretend-game.

  A bright light streamed out of the cabin window, beckoning the lad toapproach. Before going around to the door, he glanced in, and was trulyamazed at the pretty sight that he saw. His sisters were preparing theevening meal, Dixie at the stove and Carol placing on the table the bestkept-for-company dishes. This, however, was not what amazed the boy, forhe often beheld a similar scene when he returned home after dark. Theunusual part of the picture was the small girl who sat on a low stool,holding two kittens, one snow-white and one spotted with black. Thewatchful mother-cat was lying on the bear-skin rug near by.

  Ken actually blinked his eyes hard, and then opened them wide again toreassure himself that he was not dreaming. Could that smiling littlegirl be the disagreeable and unwelcome guest of but eight hours before?It was indeed Sylvia. She had awakened from her nap that afternoongreatly refreshed, and had been eager to again ride upon themouse-colored burro. This time she had declared that she was not afraidto ride alone, and so the little hostess, after starting her down theroad toward the apple-orchard, had returned to her task in the kitchen,but often she had looked out of the window, when Sylvia, with a merryhalloo, had announced that she was returning.

  So courageous did the small girl become that one time she had actuallyurged Pegasus to canter, and then, as she rode past the open door, hershout had been one of triumph. Dixie, skipping to answer the call, hadbeen glad indeed to see that the pale face of their little guest wasflushed with excitement and real pleasure. When at last Sylvia, wearybut happy, had entered the kitchen, she had exclaimed, as she sank downin the big chair, "That was the best fun I ever had in my whole life!"

  In the heart of Dixie there had been a prayer of gratitude because dearold Grandma Piggins's pretend-game had been such a success, but of thisshe said nothing. "I'm glad, dear," had been her quiet reply; "you mayride every day if you wish, while you are with us."

  Then, when Carol came home from school, Sylvia had at once said that shewished she could have the snow-white kitten. Almost unconsciously Carolhad asked herself the question, "What would I do if I really lovedSylvia?" In a burst of generosity which delighted as much as itsurprised Dixie, the small girl replied almost at once, "You may haveDowny-Fluff for your very own pussy if--if you'd like to."

  Then the unexpected happened. The little guest, perhaps for the veryfirst time in her short life, considered some one else's wishes. "Why,Carol Martin," she exclaimed, "your sister Dixie said you loved thatpussy so much you wouldn't want to give it away."

  "I do love Downy-Fluff," the other little girl had replied.

  "Then why did you say that I could have her for keeps?" To the smallgirl who had never had an unselfish impulse, this act wasincomprehensible.

>   "Because I want to make you happy, Sylvia," had been the quiet reply.

  Then, before more could be said, Carol had announced that she was goingout to the shed and bring Topsy and her pussy-babies into the cabin.

  That had happened about an hour before the return of Ken, and duringthat hour there had been a brand-new emotion stirring in the heart ofSylvia Clayburn, which just before bedtime prompted the small girl toperform the first unselfish act of her eight years.

  Ken was about to take Topsy and the kittens back to the shed whenSylvia, rising, went to Carol, and, holding out the snow-white kitten,said: "Here's Downy-Fluff. She wants you to cuddle her good-night." Thenstooping, she picked up the less attractive pussy that was rubbingagainst her foot. Smiling at the astonished Carol, she said: "I'm goingto have this one for my very own kitten. Dixie said I might, and anyway,I think Spotty's kind of lonesome, 'cause nobody loves her nor wantsher, the way they do Downy-Fluff."

  And Ken, listening, knew that his sisters had won the "pretend-game."

  Miss Josephine Bayley was not at all surprised the next morning to seethe four little Martins appear above the ridge of the canyon road. Caroland Dixie were trudging side by side, while Ken, with a stick in hishand, was walking beside the mouse-colored burro, on which rode no lessa small personage than Sylvia Clayburn, whose thin, sallow face wasbeaming above the yellow curls of the four-year-old, who sat in front ofher.

  When the schoolhouse was reached, Ken lingered behind to tie the burroin a grassy spot, and Dixie, taking their guest by the hand, led herinto the little log schoolhouse.

  "Miss Bayley," she said to the young teacher, who at once approachedthem, "this is little Sylvia Clayburn. She thought she'd like to comejust as company to-day. She'll be going back to Genoa in two weeks, somaybe that wouldn't be time to really start having lessons."

  "We are very glad to have Sylvia with us as a guest or as a pupil, justas she prefers," Miss Bayley said, as she took the frail, claw-like handof the child who had never been strong. "Carol, your seat is wide enoughfor two little girls, isn't it? I am sure that Sylvia would rather sitwith you than be alone, wouldn't you, dear?"

  To the surprise of the younger Martin girl, she found that she wasactually pleased when Sylvia somewhat shyly nodded her head and slippedher hand trustingly into that of the other little maid. She no longerhad to ask herself the pretend-game question, for she really did liketheir little guest, and she was even eager to have her for a seat-mate.

  As usual the morning session began with singing, and the teacher said:"Now that it is nearly November, I am going to suggest that we begin tolearn a Thanksgiving song. I have written the words on the board. I willsing it first, Dixie, that you may get the tune; then we will go over itall together."

  The pupils read the poem aloud, that they might become familiar with thewords that told the many simple things which small boys and girls had tobe thankful for. Then the teacher sang it, first alone, later withDixie. There was a lilting little chorus that even Sylvia soon couldsing, and the girl-teacher smiled as she glanced down at her. It wasplain to note that this new experience--for Sylvia had never before beenin a school-room--was greatly interesting the little guest.

  Then the reading-hour began and Miss Bayley suggested the much-lovedstory of Cinderella. Each pupil, sufficiently advanced, read two pages,and, as the special fairy-tale reader was passed about, it at last cameto Carol. When that little maid was seated again, Miss Bayley smilinglysaid, "Perhaps our little guest will read a page to us."

  No longer afraid, that small girl willingly read the story, with whichshe was familiar, and a flush of pleasure appeared in her pale face whenthe kind teacher said encouragingly, "You read very well indeed, Sylvia,just as though you were telling something that really had happened."

  The old grandfather's clock was soon chiming ten, and then the pupilsflocked out into the golden October day, where Sylvia, for the veryfirst time in her short life, found herself actually playing games withchildren who were not from the best families.

  Maggie Mullet caught her hand in a ring-around game, and at another timeSylvia actually chose Mercedes Guadalupe for a partner in ahide-and-seek game.

  That noon found the small girl, whose chief diet had been candy andcake, so hungry that she gladly accepted the thick sandwich offered byDixie, and ate it almost as ravenously as did Ken. It was during thelunch hour that Miss Bayley beckoned to Dixie from the open door of thelog schoolhouse. Excusing herself, the glad-eyed little girl boundedaway from the others, wondering what dear teacher had to tell her,--someplan, she was sure, for Carol's birthday "s'prise."