Part 6 (1/2)
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 hope it will be one of our three-day storms,” he said smiling cordially. ”The roads would be far too muddy for motoring then, and I should have the pleasure of entertaining you longer.”
”Oh, we couldn't let you do that, Mr. Moore. You are too kind. We must go to the next town and stop at the hotel.”
”I a.s.sure you, Miss Campbell, you are like messengers from heaven. You came in the nick of time to keep me from being plunged into such a state of 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 for being melancholy. But occasionally, you know, we are subject to spasms due chiefly to loneliness, I think.”
They had drifted back into the sitting room now and the rain was beating on the windows in torrents. It was chilly, and they were glad to see Takamini 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 the warmth of the firelight, her head drooping to one side like a tired little bird's.
The four girls gathered around the table, while Mr. Moore taking a large atlas from a shelf, opened at the map of the United States and spread it on the table.
”Now,” he said, ”tell me about the trip. Are you the captain of the expedition, 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 has a 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 brave ladies, 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 had made this impulsive speech. But Daniel Moore was not at all annoyed. He was only a little surprised.
”Why, yes,” he answered, ”you guessed right the very first time. How did it happen?”
”Well,” began Nancy and paused, greatly embarra.s.sed, ”I just guessed,”
which was a perfectly true statement.
”You are a very good guesser, then, Miss Nancy. Perhaps you would like to 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 the same beautiful girl whose face they had seen hardly an hour before smiling at them from the postcard.
”How pretty she is!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed 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.