CHAPTER XXII. MEG'S CONFIDENCE
As soon as Dan was near enough to see Meg's face, he knew that all waswell. Leaping from the back of the dusty gray horse, he went forward withboth hands outheld. "Miss Heger," he cried, and his voice was tense withemotion, "how can I, how are we ever going to thank you for what you havedone for us today?"
The girl's radiant smile flashed up at him. "Be my friend," she saidsimply, and, as the lad stood there looking deep into those wonderfuldark eyes, he seemed to feel that no greater privilege could be accordedhim than to be permitted to be the friend of this courageous, rarelybeautiful mountain girl.
But she did not give him the opportunity to voice his feeling, for atonce she said in a matter-of-fact tone: "Wasn't I lucky to reach thecounty court-house at five minutes to five? Pal and I have beencongratulating each other all the way home."
"Poor Pal!" Dan stroked the drooping head of the faithful little animalwhich had raced down the rough mountain road as he had never racedbefore. Then, quite irrelevantly, the youth asked: "Would you mind if Icall you Margaret? It fits you better than Meg." Instantly Dan was sorryhe had made the request, for he saw the sudden clouding of the girl'sbrow. The joyousness of the moment before was gone and when she spokethere was a note of sorrow in her voice. "Mr. Abbott," she began withsweet seriousness, "I forgot when I said that your friendship would bethe reward I would ask, yours and Julie's and Gerald's--I forgot who Iam, or rather that I do not know who my parents were. My real name is notMeg. Mammy Heger called me that after a little sister of hers who haddied when a baby. Mammy loved that other Meg and so it meant a great dealto her to call me by that name." Then, sighing wistfully: "I wish I knewmy real name," she concluded.
Dan took her hand in a firm, friendly clasp as he said earnestly: "MegHeger, I don't care what your name is, I don't care who your parentswere. I care only to be your friend, your very best. Of course I wouldnot wish to call you Margaret since it would be displeasing to you."
The girl withdrew her hand, replying: "Call me Meg. I'm used to that andhearing it won't make me think. Oh, I've thought about it all so long andso much!"
Then as they started walking side by side, leading their horses, the girlconfided: "Next month, when I am eighteen, Teacher Bellows, Pa Heger andI are going to start on a long, hard trip. We're going to find, if wecan, the tribe that was living in the deserted mining town on Crazy Creekthe year that I was brought to the Heger cabin." How her dark facebrightened, and Dan realized that he had never dreamed that anyone couldbe so beautiful. "If we find them, then I shall know," she concluded. Fora few moments they walked on in silence. "If they tell me I am thedaughter of----" The girl hesitated as though dreading to utter the nameof Slinking Coyote, then began again, "If I am a member of their tribe, Ishall live near them and help them. I shall be a teacher to theirchildren. It will be my duty. But if, as Pa Heger and Teacher Bellowsthink, my parents were of a foreign race, my future will be different."
Dan, knowing how deeply humiliating the conversation must be for the girland wishing to change the subject, exclaimed: "How stupid of me! Ibrought Bag-o'-Bones down for you to ride. You must be very tired afteryour wild race to Scarsburg."
The girl smiled gratefully. "I believe I am very, very tired," sheconfessed, "which happens but seldom. I had thought that I was tireless."
They soon reached the road in front of the Abbotts' cabin and Meg badeDan take from the pony's saddle bags the papers and receipts. Although hepleaded to be permitted to accompany her to her home, she shook her head."You haven't had your supper and it is very late." Then impulsively shereached down her brown hand as she said with an almost tremulous smile:"Good-night, my friend."
It was early dusk when Jane, still sitting on the porch of their cabinintently listening, heard voices and the clattering of slow-moving horsesalong the mountain road below the bend. She leaped to her feet, herbreath came with nervous quickness, she pressed her hand to her heart.Oh, what if Meg had been too late. Before she could decide what she oughtto do, she heard Dan's voice calling to the mountain girl, who wasevidently not stopping. Jane ran to the top of the stone stairway. Howungrateful it must have seemed for her not to have been there to thankMeg for the effort she had made, whether or not it was successful. ButDan was leaping up the steps, two at a time, his face radiant.
Jane thought that all of his joyousness was caused by the message he wasshouting to her: "Sister, that wonderful girl reached there on time! Ourcabin is saved for us! How can we ever thank her?"
Jane, who had never been so upset by anything before in her protectedlife, clung to her brother almost hysterically. "Oh, Dan, Dan, I am sothankful! Do you think Meg Heger will ever forgive me? I was so rude toher when she first came."
The lad was serious at once. "I do not know that she will," he replied ashe recalled that the mountain girl had said the reward she requested wasthe friendship of all the Abbotts except Jane.
It was hard not to rebuke his sister for her foolish pride, but she wastrembling as she clung to him, and so he encircled her with his arm as hesaid hopefully: "Meg is too fine a girl to hold a grudge when she findsout that your heart has changed."
Jane said nothing, but she suddenly wondered if, in reality, her hearthad changed. Now that the taxes were paid and the hours of anxiety wereover, she was not sure that she cared to begin an intimate friendshipwith a "halfbreed," merely to show her gratitude, but even as she wasconscious of this shrinking, the voice of her soul told her that she wasdespicable.
The children, who had been on the kitchen porch, hearing Dan's voice,rushed out, but Jane delayed him long enough to whisper: "They knownothing of what has happened. Please do not tell them."
Gerald was the first to reach them, and he cried, rebukingly: "Dan, whydid you go horseback riding without taking me. I saw you go by an hourago. I'm just wild to learn to ride that Bag-o'-Bones. Do you think Mr.Heger will let me?"
Dan realized that the younger members of their family thought he hadmerely been for a horseback ride, and so he made no further explanation,replying gayly: "Indeed I do! But I think you would better take yourfirst lesson on the level. Wait until we go down to the Packard ranch.You remember that good friend of ours told us that he had forty horsesand many of them were broken to the saddle."
Julie clapped her hands as she hopped up and down gleefully. "Me, too!"she cried ungrammatically. "Mr. Packard said he had a little spottedhorse, just the right size for me. When are we going down there, Dan?"
The older lad glanced at his sister. "Did you say that we are to go nextSunday?" The girl nodded, but the boy looked perplexed. "But how?" hequeried. "If we went to Redfords by the stage, how are we to get to thePackard ranch? And we couldn't possibly return on the same day."
Jane thought for a moment, then she looked up brightly. "I recall now.Jean Sawyer said that we would hear from Mr. Packard during the week."Then she smilingly confessed: "I was so pleased to find the foremandifferent--I mean--one of our own class--that----"
Gerald, noting the blushes, pointed a chubby finger at his sister as hesing-songed: "Jane likes Jean Sawyer extra-special."
It was Julie, knowing that her sister did not like to be teased, who cameto the rescue by saying emphatically: "So do I like Jean Sawyerextra-special; and I know what girl you like best, Gerald Abbott. It'sMeg Heger; so now."
The small boy grinned his agreement. "Bet you I do," he confessed.
Dan said nothing, but by the warm glow in his heart at the mention of themountain girl's name, he knew that he also liked Meg Heger extra-special.