XV
A MATTER OF MILLINERY
It was three o'clock of a fine, clear, golden afternoon as they saidgood-by to McFarlane and started eastward, as if for a little drive.Berrie held the reins in spite of Wayland's protestations. "Thesebronchos are only about half busted," she said. "They need watching. Iknow them better than you do." Therefore he submitted, well knowing thatshe was entirely competent and fully informed.
Mrs. McFarlane, while looking back at her husband, sadly exclaimed: "Ifeel like a coward running away like this."
"Forget it, mother," commanded her daughter, cheerily. "Just imaginewe're off for a short vacation. I'm for going clear through to Chicago.So long as we _must_ go, let's go whooping. Father's better off withoutus."
Her voice was gay, her eyes shining, and Wayland saw her as she had beenthat first day in the coach--the care-free, laughing girl. The troublethey were fleeing from was less real to her than the happiness towardwhich she rode.
Her hand on the reins, her foot on the brake, brought back herconfidence; but Wayland did not feel so sure of his part in theadventure. She seemed so unalterably a part of this life, so fitted tothis landscape, that the thought of transplanting her to the East broughtuneasiness and question. Could such a creature of the open air be contentwith the walls of a city?
For several miles the road ran over the level floor of the valley, andshe urged the team to full speed. "I don't want to meet anybody if I canhelp it. Once we reach the old stage route the chances of being scoutedare few. Nobody uses that road since the broad-gauge reached Cragg's."
Mrs. McFarlane could not rid herself of the resentment with which shesuffered this enforced departure; but she had small opportunity toprotest, for the wagon bumped and clattered over the stony stretches witha motion which confused as well as silenced her. It was all sohumiliating, so unlike the position which she had imagined herself tohave attained in the eyes of her neighbors. Furthermore, she was goingaway without a trunk, with only one small bag for herself andBerrie--running away like a criminal from an intangible foe. However, shewas somewhat comforted by the gaiety of the young people before her. Theywere indeed jocund as jaybirds. With the resiliency of youth they hadaccepted the situation, and were making the best of it.
"Here comes somebody," called Berrie, pulling her ponies to a walk."Throw a blanket over that valise." She was chuckling as if it were all agood joke. "It's old Jake Proudfoot. I can smell him. Now hang on. I'mgoing to pass him on the jump."
Wayland, who was riding with his hat in his hand because he could notmake it cover his bump, held it up as if to keep the wind from his face,and so defeated the round-eyed, owl-like stare of the inquisitiverancher, who brought his team to a full stop in order to peer after them,muttering in a stupor of resentment and surprise.
"He'll worry himself sick over us," predicted Berrie. "He'll wonder wherewe're going and what was under that blanket till the end of summer. He isas curious as a fool hen."
A few minutes more and they were at the fork in the way, and, leaving thetrail to Cragg's, the girl pulled into the grass-grown, less-traveledtrail to the south, which entered the timber at this point and began toclimb with steady grade. Letting the reins fall slack, she turned to hermother with reassuring words. "There! Now we're safe. We won't meetanybody on this road except possibly a mover's outfit. We're in theforest again," she added.
For two hours they crawled slowly upward, with a roaring stream on oneside and the pine-covered slopes on the other. Jays and camp-birds calledfrom the trees. Water-robins fluttered from rock to rock in the foamingflood. Squirrels and minute chipmunks raced across the fallen tree-trunksor clattered from great boulders, and in the peace and order and beautyof the forest they all recovered a serener outlook on the noisome tumultthey were leaving behind them. Invisible as well as inaudible, theserpent of slander lost its terror.
Once, as they paused to rest the horses, Wayland said: "It is hard torealize that down in that ethereal valley people like old Jake and Mrs.Belden have their dwelling-place."
This moved Mrs. McFarlane to admit that it might all turn out a blessingin disguise. "Mr. McFarlane may resign and move to Denver, as I've longwanted him to do."
"I wish he would," exclaimed Berrie, fervently. "It's time you had arest. Daddy will hate to quit under fire, but he'd better do it."
Peak by peak the Bear Tooth Range rose behind them, while before them thesmooth, grassy slopes of the pass told that they were nearingtimber-line. The air was chill, the sun was hidden by old Solidor, andthe stream had diminished to a silent rill winding among sear grass andyellowed willows. The valley behind them was vague with mist. Thesouthern boundary of the forest was in sight.
At last the topmost looming crags of the Continental Divide cut thesky-line, and then in the smooth hollow between two rounded grassysummits Berrie halted, and they all silently contemplated the two worlds.To the west and north lay an endless spread of mountains, wave on wave,snow-lined, savage, sullen in the dying light; while to the east andsoutheast the foot-hills faded into the plain, whose dim cities,insubstantial as flecks in a veil of violet mist, were hardlydistinguishable without the aid of glasses.
To the girl there was something splendid, something heroical in thatmajestic, menacing landscape to the west. In one of its folds she hadbegun her life. In another she had grown to womanhood and self-confidentpower. The rough men, the coarse, ungainly women of that land seemed lesshateful now that she was leaving them, perhaps forever, and a confusedmemory of the many splendid dawns and purple sunsets she had loved filledher thought.
Wayland, divining some part of what was moving in her mind, cheerilyremarked, "Yes, it's a splendid place for a summer vacation, but a sternplace in winter-time, and for a lifelong residence it is not inspiring."
Mrs. McFarlane agreed with him in this estimate. "It _is_ terriblylonesome in there at times. I've had enough of it. I'm ready for thecomforts of civilization."
Berrie turned in her seat, and was about to take up the reins whenWayland asserted himself. "Wait a moment. Here's where my dominionbegins. Here's where you change seats with me. I am the driver now."
She looked at him with questioning, smiling glance. "Can you drive? It'sall the way down-hill--and steep?"
"If I can't I'll ask your aid. I'm old enough to remember the familycarriage. I've even driven a four-in-hand."
She surrendered her seat doubtfully, and smiled to see him take up thereins as if he were starting a four-horse coach. He proved adequate andcareful, and she was proud of him as, with foot on the brake and thebronchos well in hand, he swung down the long looping road to therailway. She was pleased, too, by his care of the weary animals, easingthem down the steepest slopes and sending them along on the comparativelylevel spots.
Their descent was rapid, but it was long after dark before they reachedFlume, which lay up the valley to the right. It was a poor littledecaying mining-town set against the hillside, and had but one hotel, asun-warped and sagging pine building just above the station.
"Not much like the Profile House," said Wayland, as he drew up to theporch. "But I see no choice."
"There isn't any," Berrie assured him.
"Well, now," he went on, "I am in command of this expedition. From thison I lead this outfit. When it comes to hotels, railways, and the like o'that, I'm head ranger."
Mrs. McFarlane, tired, hungry, and a little dismayed, accepted hiscontrol gladly; but Berrie could not at once slip aside herresponsibility. "Tell the hostler--"
"Not a word!" commanded Norcross; and the girl with a smile submitted tohis guidance, and thereafter his efficiency, his self-possession, histact delighted her. He persuaded the sullen landlady to get them supper.He secured the best rooms in the house, and arranged for the care of theteam, and when they were all seated around the dim, fly-specked oil-lampat the end of the crumby dining-room table he discovered such a gay andconfident mien that the women looked at each other in surprise.
Berrie was correspondingly
less masculine. In drawing off her buckskindriving-gloves she had put away the cowgirl, and was silent, a little sadeven, in the midst of her enjoyment of his dictatorship. And when hesaid, "If my father reaches Denver in time I want you to meet him," shelooked the dismay she felt.
"I'll do it--but I'm scared of him."
"You needn't be. I'll see him first and draw his fire."
Mrs. McFarlane interposed. "We must do a little shopping first. We can'tmeet your father as we are."
"Very well. I'll go with you if you'll let me. I'm a great littleshopper. I have infallible taste, so my sisters say. If it's a case ofbuying new hats, for instance, I'm the final authority with them." Thisamused Berrie, but her mother took it seriously.
"Of course, I'm anxious to have my daughter make the best possibleimpression."
"Very well. It is arranged. We get in, I find, about noon. We'll gostraight to the biggest shop in town. If we work with speed we'll be ableto lunch with my father. He'll be at the Palmer House at one."
Berrie said nothing, either in acceptance or rejection of his plan. Hermind was concerned with new conceptions, new relationships, and when inthe hall he took her face between his hands and said, "Cheer up! All isnot lost," she put her arms about his neck and laid her cheek against hisbreast to hide her tears. "Oh, Wayland! I'm such an idiot in the city.I'm afraid your father will despise me."
What he said was not very cogent, and not in the least literary, but itwas reassuring and lover-like, and when he turned her over to her mothershe was composed, though unwontedly grave.
She woke to a new life next morning--a life of compliance, of following,of dependence upon the judgment of another. She stood in silence whileher lover paid the bills, bought the tickets, and telegraphed theircoming to his father. She acquiesced when he prevented her mother fromtelephoning to the ranch. She complied when he countermanded her order tohave the team sent back at once. His judgment ruled, and she enjoyed hersudden freedom from responsibility. It was novel, and it was very sweetto think that she was being cared for as she had cared for and shieldedhim in the world of the trail.
In the little railway-coach, which held a score of passengers, she foundherself among some Eastern travelers who had taken the trip up the Valleyof the Flume in the full belief that they were piercing the heart of theRocky Mountains! It amused Wayland almost as much as it amused Berriewhen one man said to his wife:
"Well, I'm glad we've seen the Rockies."
"He really believes it!" exclaimed Norcross.
After an hour's ride Wayland tactfully withdrew, leaving mother anddaughter to discuss clothes undisturbed by his presence.
"We must look our best, honey," said Mrs. McFarlane. "We will go right toMme. Crosby at Battle's, and she'll fit us out. I wish we had more time;but we haven't, so we must do the best we can."
"I want Wayland to choose my hat and traveling-suit," replied Berrie.
"Of course. But you've got to have a lot of other things besides." Andthey bent to the joyous work of making out a list of goods to bepurchased as soon as they reached Chicago.
Wayland came back with a Denver paper in his hand and a look of disguston his face. "It's all in here--at least, the outlines of it."
Berrie took the journal, and there read the details of Settle's assaultupon the foreman. "The fight arose from a remark concerning the ForestSupervisor's daughter. Ranger Settle resented the gossip, and fell uponthe other man, beating him with the butt of his revolver. Friends of theforeman claim that the ranger is a drunken bully, and should have beendischarged long ago. The Supervisor for some mysterious reason retainsthis man, although he is an incompetent. It is also claimed thatMcFarlane put a man on the roll without examination." The Supervisor wasthe protagonist of the play, which was plainly political. The attack uponhim was bitter and unjust, and Mrs. McFarlane again declared herintention of returning to help him in his fight. However, Wayland againproved to her that her presence would only embarrass the Supervisor. "Youwould not aid him in the slightest degree. Nash and Landon are with him,and will refute all these charges."
This newspaper story took the light out of their day and the smile fromBerrie's lips, and the women entered the city silent and distressed inspite of the efforts of their young guide. The nearer the girl came tothe ordeal of facing the elder Norcross, the more she feared the outcome;but Wayland kept his air of easy confidence, and drove them directly tothe shopping center, believing that under the influence of hats andgloves they would regain their customary cheer.
In this he was largely justified. They had a delightful hour trying onmillinery and coats and gloves. The forewoman, who knew Mrs. McFarlane,gladly accepted her commission, and, while suspecting the tenderrelationship between the girl and the man, she was tactful enough toconceal her suspicion. "The gentleman is right; you carry simple thingsbest," she remarked to Berrie, thus showing her own good judgment."Smartly tailored gray or blue suits are your style."
Silent, blushing, tousled by the hands of her decorators, Berriepermitted hats to be perched on her head and jackets buttoned andunbuttoned about her shoulders till she felt like a worn clothes-horse.Wayland beamed with delight, but she was far less satisfied than he; andwhen at last selection was made, she still had her doubts, not of theclothes, but of her ability to wear them. They seemed so alien to her, sorestrictive and enslaving.
"You're an easy fitter," said the saleswoman. "But"--here she lowered hervoice--"you need a new corset. This old one is out of date. Nobody iswearing hips now."
Thereupon Berrie meekly permitted herself to be led away to atorture-room. Wayland waited patiently, and when she reappeared alltraces of Bear Tooth Forest had vanished. In a neat tailored suit and avery "chic" hat, with shoes, gloves, and stockings to match, she was sotransformed, so charmingly girlish in her self-conscious glory, that hewas tempted to embrace her in the presence of the saleswoman. But hedidn't. He merely said: "I see the governor's finish! Let's go to lunch.You are stunning!"
"I don't know myself," responded Berrie. "The only thing that feelsnatural is my hand. They cinched me so tight I can't eat a thing, and myshoes hurt." She laughed as she said this, for her use of the vernacularwas conscious. "I'm a fraud. Your father will spot my brand first shot.Look at my face--red as a saddle!"
"Don't let that trouble you. This is the time of year when tan isfashionable. Don't you be afraid of the governor. Just smile at him, givehim your grip, and he'll melt."
"I'm the one to melt. I'm beginning now."
"I know how you feel, but you'll get used to the conventionalboiler-plate and all the rest of it. We all groan and growl when we comeback to it each autumn; but it's a part of being civilized, and wesubmit."
Notwithstanding his confident advice, Wayland led the two silent andinwardly dismayed women into the showy cafe of the hotel with some degreeof personal apprehension concerning the approaching interview with hisfather. Of course, he did not permit this to appear in the slightestdegree. On the contrary, he gaily ordered a choice lunch, and did hisbest to keep his companions from sinking into deeper depression.
It pleased him to observe the admiring glances which were turned uponBerrie, whose hat became her mightily, and, leaning over, he said in alow voice to Mrs. McFarlane: "Who is the lovely young lady opposite?Won't you introduce me?"
This rejoiced the mother almost as much as it pleased the daughter, andshe answered, "She looks like one of the Radburns of Lexington, but Ithink she's from Louisville."
This little play being over, he said, "Now, while our order is comingI'll run out to the desk and see if the governor has come in or not."