CHAPTER XI. REDFORDS
"Is that all there is to the town of Redfords?" Jane gasped when thestage, leaving Toboggan Grade, reached a small circular valley which wasapparently surrounded on all sides by towering timber-covered mountains.A stream of clear, sparkling water rushed and swirled on its way throughthe narrow, barren, rock-strewn lowland. The rocks, the very dust of theroad, were of a reddish cast.
"That road yonder climbs your mountain in a zig-zag fashion, and thencircles around it to the old abandoned mining camp." Then to Gerald, hesaid: "Youngster, if you're pining for mystery, that's where you ought tofind one. That deserted mining camp always looks to me as though it musthave a secret, perhaps more than one, that it could tell and will not."
"Ohee!" squealed Julie. "How interesting! Gerry and I are wild to find amystery to unravel. Why do you think that old mining camp has secrets,Mr. Packard?"
Smiling at the little girl's eagerness, the rancher replied: "Because itlooks so deserted and haunted." Then to Dan, "You heard what Gabby saidat the depot. Well, he did not exaggerate. A rich vein of gold was foundon the other side of your mountain, and a throng of men came swarming infrom everywhere, and just overnight, or so it seemed, buildings of everydescription were erected. They did not take time to make them ofpermanent logs, though there are a few of that description. For severalmonths they worked untiringly, digging, blasting, searching everywhere,but the vein which had promised so much ended abruptly.
"Of course, when the horde of men found that there was no gold, theydeparted as they had come. For a time after that a wandering tribe of UteIndians lived there, but the hunting was poor, and as they, too, moved onfarther into the Rockies, where there are many fertile valleys. Only oneold Indian, of whom Gabby spoke, has remained. They call him SlinkingCoyote. Why he stayed behind when his tribe went in search of betterhunting grounds surely is a mystery."
Julie gave another little bounce of joy. "Oh, goodie!" she cried. "Gerry,there's two mysteries and maybe we'll find the answers to both of them."
"I would rather find something to eat," Jane said rather peevishly. "Inever was obliged to wait so long for my breakfast in all my life. It'sone whole hour since we left the train." She glanced at her wrist watchas she spoke.
Mr. Packard looked at her meditatively. The other three Abbotts were asamiable as any young people he had ever met, but Jane was surely the mostfretful and discontented. Although he knew nothing of all that hadhappened, he could easily see that she, at least, was in the West quiteagainst her will.
"Well, my dear young lady," he said as he reached for her bag, "you won'thave long to wait, for even now we are in the town, approaching the inn."
"What?" Jane's eyes were wide and unbelieving. "Is this wretched logcabin place the only hotel?" She peered out of the stage window and sawtwo cowboys lounging on the porch, and each was chewing a toothpick. Theywere picturesquely dressed in fringed buckskin trousers, soft shirts,carelessly knotted bandannas and wide Stetson hats. Their ponies weretied in front, as were several other lean, restless horses.
Mr. Packard nodded. "Yes, this is the inn and the general store and thepostoffice. Across the road is another building just like it and that hasa room in front which is used as a church on Sunday and a school onweekdays, while in back there is a billiard room. There are no saloonsnow," this was addressed to Dan, "which is certainly a good thing forRedfords."
"Billiard room, church and a school house all in one building," Janerepeated in scornful amazement. "But where are the houses? Where do thetownspeople live?"
Mr. Packard smiled at her. "There aren't any," he said. "The ranchers,cowboys, mountaineers and summer tourists are the patrons of the inn andbilliard rooms. But here we are!" The stage had stopped in front of therambling log building and reluctantly Jane followed the others.
Mr. Packard held the screen door open for the young people to pass, then,taking Jane's arm, he piloted her through the front part of the building,which was occupied by the postoffice and store, to the room in the rear,where were half a dozen bare tables. Each had in the center a vinegarcruet, a sugar bowl, salt and pepper shakers. At least they were clean,but the dishes were so coarse that had not Jane been ravenously hungry,she told herself, she simply could not have eaten. Mr. Packard led theway to the largest table, at which there were six places, and as soon asthey were seated a comely woman entered through a swinging green baizedoor.
"Howdy, Mr. Packard?" she said in response to the rancher's cordialgreeting. "Jean Sawyer, your foreman, was in last night an' left yourhoss for yo'. He said as how he was expectin' yo' in some time today.You've fetched along some visitors, I take it." The woman looked at theolder girl with unconcealed admiration. The blood rushed to Jane's face.Was this innkeeper's wife going to tell her that she had never seen butone other girl who was more beautiful? But Mrs. Bently made no personalcomment.
When Mr. Packard explained that his companions were the young Abbotts,and that they were to spend the summer in a cabin on Redford Mountain,her only remark was: "Is it the cabin that's been standin' empty so long,the one that's a short piece down from where Meg Heger lives?"
"Yes, that's it, Mrs. Bently." Then the man implored: "Please bring ussome of your good ham and eggs and coffee and----"
"There's plenty of waffle dough left, if the young people likes 'em." Thewoman smiled at Julie, who beamed back at her.
"Oh, boy!" Gerald chimed in. "Me for the waffles!"
The cooking was excellent and even the fastidious Jane thoroughly enjoyedthe breakfast.
When they emerged from the inn, Dan said, regretfully: "The sun is highup. We've missed our first sunrise."
"We were on the Toboggan Grade when the sun rose," Mr. Packard told them.He then shook hands with Jane and Dan as he said heartily:
"Here is where we part company. That is my horse over yonder. A beauty,isn't he? Silver, I call him. By the way, Dan, I want you to meet JeanSawyer. He is just about your age, and a fine fellow, if I am a judge ofcharacter. I would trust him with anything I have. In fact, I do. I sendhim all the way to the city often, to get money from the bank to pay offthe men. I know he isn't dishonest, and yet, for some reason, he ran awayfrom his home. You know, we have a code out here by which each man ispermitted to keep his own counsel.
"We ask no one from whence he came or why. We take people for what theyseem to be, with no knowledge of their past."
Then, breaking off abruptly, the older man repeated: "I would, indeed,like you to meet Jean and tell me what you think of him. Come over to ourplace soon, or, better still, since that is a rough trip until you gethardened to the saddle, I'll send him over to call on you next Sunday."
Dan's face brightened. "Great, Mr. Packard; do that! A chap whom you somuch admire must be worth knowing. Have him take dinner with us. Goodbye,and thank you for being our much-needed guide."
When their neighbor and friend had swung into his saddle and had riddenaway, Jane said fretfully: "I don't see why you asked that Jean Sawyer,who may be an outlaw, for all we know, to come over to our place fordinner." Then, when she saw the expression of troubled disappointment inher brother's face, again the small voice within rebuked her, and sheimplored: "Oh, Dan, don't mind me! I know I am horridly selfish, but I amso tired, and these people are all so queer. What are we to do next?"
The older lad knew what an effort Jane was making, and he held her armaffectionately close as he replied: "Mr. Packard said that the stagewould call for us at 8:30. We will have half an hour to purchase oursupplies. Grandmother made out a list of things we would need. Julie hasthat. Jane, here is my wallet. I wish you would take charge of our funds.You won't be climbing around as I will. It will be safer with you."
Together the girls went into the store and purchased the supplies theywould need. Then they rejoined the boys, who had waited outside. Gerrywanted to look in the school house.
The Abbotts found the door of the rambling log cabin across from
the innstanding open, and they peered in curiously. The room was long and welllighted by large windows, but it was quite like any other country school.There were eight rows of benches, one back of the other, with ashelf-like desk in front of each. These had many an initial carved inthem. The teacher's table and chair faced the others, with a blackboardhanging on the wall at the back. Near the door was a pail and a dipper.Dan smiled. "It doesn't look as though genius could be awakened here,does it?" he was saying, when a pleasant voice back of them caused themto turn.
"You're wrong there, my friend." The young people saw before them awithered-up little old man with the whitest of hair reaching to hisshoulders. Noting their unconcealed astonishment, he continued, by way ofintroduction, "I am Preacher Bellows on Sunday and Teacher Bellows onweekdays. Now, as I was saying, having overheard your remark, this littleschoolroom and the teacher who presides over it are proud to tell youthat your statement is not correct. It may not look as though geniuscould be awakened here," he smiled most kindly. "I'll agree that it doesnot, but that is just what has happened. Meg Heger, one of my mountaingirls, has written some beautiful things. Her last composition, 'SunriseFrom the Rim-Rock,' is truly poetical."
Jane turned away impatiently. Was she never to be through with hearingabout Meg Heger? "Brother," the manner in which she interrupted theconversation was almost rude, "isn't that the stage returning? I am sotired, I do want to get up to our cabin." She started to cross thestreet. Dan quickly joined her. He did not rebuke her for not having saidgoodbye to the teacher.
"He's a nice man, isn't he, Dan?" Gerald skipped along by his brother'sside as he spoke. "He loves mountain people, doesn't he?"
Dan smiled down at the eager questioner. "Why, of course, he must, if hepractices what I suppose he preaches; the brotherhood of man."
"Well, I certainly don't want to claim people like the ones we have metin Redfords as any kin of mine," Jane snapped as they all crossed to thestage that awaited them. Again the four white horses drooped their headsand the driver slouched on his high seat, as though at every opportunitythey took short naps. But the horses came to life when the driver snappedhis long whip and with much jolting they forded the stream.
"Oh, my; I'm 'cited as anything!" Julie squealed. "Wish something,Gerald, 'cause this is the first time we've ever been up our very ownmountain road."
"There's just one thing to wish for," the small boy said with theseriousness which now and then made him seem older than his years, "andthat's that Dan will get well. What do you wish, Jane?"
"Why, the same thing, of course," the girl replied languidly.
Gerald continued his questioning. "What do you wish, Dan?"
The boy thought for a moment and then he exclaimed, "I have a wonderfulthing to wish. Wouldn't it be great if we could find the lost gold veinon our very own ten acres? Then Dad could pay the rest that he owes andbe free from all worry?"
"Me, too," Julie cried jubilantly. "Now, we've all wished and here we goup the mountain."
The road was narrow. In some places it was barely wide enough for thestage to pass, and, as Jane looked back and down, she shuddered manytimes.
At last, when nothing happened and the old stage did stick to the road,Jane consented to look around at the majestic scenery, about which theothers were exclaiming. Beyond the gorge-like valley in which wasRedfords, one mountain range towered above another, while many peaks werecrowned with snow, dazzling in the light of the sun that was now highabove them.
The air was becoming warmer, but it was so wonderfully clear that eventhings in the far distance stood out with remarkable detail.
At a curve, Gerald pointed to the road where it circled above them."Gee-whiliker! Look-it!" he cried excitedly. "How that boy can ride." Theothers, turning, saw a pony which seemed to be running at breakneckspeed, but as the stage appeared around the bend, the small horse washalted so suddenly that it reared. When it settled back on all fours, thewatchers saw that, instead of a boy, the rider was a girl, slender ofbuild, wiry, alert. She drew to one side close to the mountain, to permitthe stage to pass. She wore a divided skirt of the coarsest material, ascarlet blouse but no hat. Her glossy black wind-blown hair flutteredloosely about her slim shoulders. Her dusky eyes looked curiously out atthem from between long curling lashes. Dan thought he had never beforeseen such wonderful eyes, but it only took a moment for the stage topass.
They all turned to look down the road. The pony was again leaping aheadas sure-footed, evidently, as a mountain goat, the girl leaning low inthe saddle. Jane's lips were curled scornfully. "Well, if that is theirmountain beauty, I think they have queer taste! She looked to me verymuch like an Indian, didn't she to you, Dan?"
The boy replied frankly: "I should say she might be Spanish or French,but I do indeed think she is wonderfully beautiful. I never saw sucheyes. They seem to have slumbering soul-fires just waiting to be kindled.I should like to hear her talk."
Jane shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I certainly should not. I have heardenough of this mountain dialect, if that's what you call it, to last methe rest of my life. I simply will not make the acquaintance of that--Oh,it doesn't matter what she is--" she hurried on to add when she saw thatDan was about to speak. "I don't want to know her, and do please rememberthat, all of you!"
"Gee, sis," Gerald blurted out, "you don't like the West much, do you? Is'pose you wish you had stayed at home or gone to that hifalutin wateringplace."
Jane bit her lips to keep from retorting angrily. Julie was stillwatching the small horse that now and then reappeared as the zigzaggingmountain road far below them came in sight.
"That girl's going to school, I guess. Though I should think it would bevacation time, now it's summer," she remarked.
"I rather believe that winter is vacation time for mountain schools. It'smighty cold here for a good many months and the roads are probably sodeep in snow that they are not passable."
Dan had just said this when Gerald, who had been kneeling on the seat,watching intently ahead, whirled toward them with a cry of joy. "There'sour log cabin on that ledge up there! I bet you 'tis! Gee-whiliker, we'restopping. Hurray! It's ours."