Part 25 (1/2)
When she finished reading aloud a few paragraphs the old cattleman snorted and his face grew redder.
”Did your sister write that?” he asked.
”Yes.”
”Wal, I--I beg pawdin, Miss Majesty. But it doesn't seem like you. Does she think we're a lot of wild men from Borneo?”
”Evidently she does. I rather think she is in for a surprise. Now, Stillwell, you are clever and you can see the situation. I want my guests to enjoy their stay here, but I do not want that to be at the expense of the feelings of all of us, or even any one. Helen will bring a lively crowd. They'll crave excitement--the unusual. Let us see that they are not disappointed. You take the boys into your confidence. Tell them what to expect, and tell them how to meet it. I shall help you in that. I want the boys to be on dress-parade when they are off duty. I want them to be on their most elegant behavior. I do not care what they do, what measures they take to protect themselves, what tricks they contrive, so long as they do not overstep the limit of kindness and courtesy. I want them to play their parts seriously, naturally, as if they had lived no other way. My guests expect to have fun. Let us meet them with fun. Now what do you say?”
Stillwell rose, his great bulk towering, his huge face beaming.
”Wal, I say it's the most amazin' fine idee I ever heerd in my life.”
”Indeed, I am glad you like it,” went on Madeline.
”Come to me again, Stillwell, after you have spoken to the boys. But, now that I have suggested it, I am a little afraid. You know what cowboy fun is. Perhaps--”
”Don't you go back on that idee,” interrupted Stillwell. He was a.s.suring and bland, but his hurry to convince Madeline betrayed him. ”Leave the boys to me. Why, don't they all swear by you, same as the Mexicans do to the Virgin? They won't disgrace you, Miss Majesty. They'll be simply immense. It'll beat any show you ever seen.”
”I believe it will,” replied Madeline. She was still doubtful of her plan, but the enthusiasm of the old cattleman was infectious and irresistible. ”Very well, we will consider it settled. My guests will arrive on May ninth. Meanwhile let us get Her Majesty's Rancho in shape for this invasion.”
On the afternoon of the ninth of May, perhaps half an hour after Madeline had received a telephone message from Link Stevens announcing the arrival of her guests at El Cajon, Florence called her out upon the porch. Stillwell was there with his face wrinkled by his wonderful smile and his eagle eyes riveted upon the distant valley. Far away, perhaps twenty miles, a thin streak of white dust rose from the valley floor and slanted skyward.
”Look!” said Florence, excitedly.
”What is that?” asked Madeline.
”Link Stevens and the automobile!”
”Oh no! Why, it's only a few minutes since he telephoned saying the party had just arrived.”
”Take a look with the gla.s.ses,” said Florence.
One glance through the powerful binoculars convinced Madeline that Florence was right. And another glance at Stillwell told her that he was speechless with delight. She remembered a little conversation she had had with Link Stevens a short while previous.
”Stevens, I hope the car is in good shape,” she had said. ”Now, Miss Hammond, she's as right as the best-trained hoss I ever rode,” he had replied.
”The valley road is perfect,” she had gone on, musingly. ”I never saw such a beautiful road, even in France. No fences, no ditches, no rocks, no vehicles. Just a lonely road on the desert.”
”Sh.o.r.e, it's lonely,” Stevens had answered, with slowly brightening eyes. ”An' safe, Miss Hammond.”
”My sister used to like fast riding. If I remember correctly, all of my guests were a little afflicted with the speed mania. It is a common disease with New-Yorkers. I hope, Stevens, that you will not give them reason to think we are altogether steeped in the slow, dreamy manana languor of the Southwest.”
Link doubtfully eyed her, and then his bronze face changed its dark aspect and seemed to s.h.i.+ne.
”Beggin' your pardon, Miss Hammond, thet's sh.o.r.e tall talk fer Link Stevens to savvy. You mean--as long as I drive careful an' safe I can run away from my dust, so to say, an' get here in somethin' less than the Greaser's to-morrow?”
Madeline had laughed her a.s.sent. And now, as she watched the thin streak of dust, at that distance moving with snail pace, she reproached herself. She trusted Stevens; she had never known so skilful, daring, and iron-nerved a driver as he was. If she had been in the car herself she would have had no anxiety. But, imagining what Stevens would do on forty miles and more of that desert road, Madeline suffered a p.r.i.c.k of conscience.
”Oh, Stillwell!” she exclaimed. ”I am afraid I will go back on my wonderful idea. What made me do it?”
”Your sister wanted the real thing, didn't she? Said they all wanted it.