Aunt Jane's Nieces on the Ranch Part 5

"You seem to have purchased a lot of things with this ranch," observed Uncle John. "A capital old mansion, a band of trained servants, and-a ghost."

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Louise. "Major, did the ghost bother you last night?"

"Not to my knowledge," said the old soldier. "I was too tired to keep awake, you know; therefore his ghostship could not have disturbed me without being unusually energetic."

"Have you ever seen the ghost, Louise?" inquired Patsy.

"No, dear, nor even heard it. But Arthur has. It's in the blue room, you know, near Arthur's study-one of the prettiest rooms in the house."

"That's why we gave it to the major," added Arthur. "Once or twice, when I've been sitting in the study, at about midnight, reading and smoking my pipe, I've heard some queer noises coming from the blue room; but I attribute them to rats. These old houses are full of the pests and we can't manage to get rid of them."

"I imagine the walls are not all solid," explained Louise, "for some of those on the outside are from six to eight feet in thickness, and it would be folly to make them of solid adobe."

"As for that, adobe costs nothing," said Arthur, "and it would be far cheaper to make a solid wall than a hollow one. But between the blocks are a lot of s.p.a.ces favored as residences by our enemies the rats, and there they are safe from our reach."

"But the ghost?" demanded Patsy.

"Oh, the ghost exists merely in the minds of the simple Mexicans, over there at the quarters. Most of them were here when that rascally old Cristoval died, and no money would hire one of them to sleep in the house. You see, they feared and hated the old fellow, who doubtless treated them cruelly. That is why we had to get our house servants from a distance, and even then we had some difficulty in quieting their fears when they heard the ghost tales. Little Inez," added Louise, "is especially superst.i.tious, and I'm sure if she were not so devoted to baby she would have left us weeks ago."

"Inez told me this morning," said Beth, "that the major must be a very brave man and possessed some charm that protected him from ghosts, or he would never dare sleep in the blue room."

"I have a charm," declared the major, gravely, "and it's just common sense."

But now they were among the graceful, broad-spreading olives, at this season barren of fruit but very attractive in their gray-green foliage.

Arthur had to explain all about olive culture to the ignorant Easterners and he did this with much satisfaction because he had so recently acquired the knowledge himself.

"I can see," said Uncle John, "that your ranch is to be a great gamble.

In good years, you win; a crop failure will cost you a fortune."

"True," admitted the young man; "but an absolute crop failure is unknown in this section. Some years are better than others, but all are good years."

It was quite a long tramp, but a very pleasant one, and by the time they returned to the house everyone was ready for luncheon, which awaited them in the shady court, beside the splashing fountain. Patsy and Beth demanded the baby, so presently Inez came with little Jane, and Mildred Travers followed after. The two nurses did not seem on very friendly terms, for the Mexican girl glared fiercely at her rival and Mildred returned a basilisk stare that would have confounded anyone less defiant.

This evident hostility amused Patsy, annoyed Beth and worried Louise; but the baby was impartial. From her seat on Inez' lap little Jane stretched out her tiny hands to Mildred, smiling divinely, and the nurse took the child in spite of Inez' weak resistance, fondling the little one lovingly. There was a sharp contrast between Mildred's expert and adroit handling of the child and Inez' tender awkwardness, and this was so evident that all present noticed it.

Perhaps Inez herself felt this difference as, sullen and jealous, she eyed the other intently. Then little Jane transferred her favors to her former nurse and held out her hands to Inez. With a cry that was half a sob the girl caught the baby in her arms and held it so closely that Patsy had hard work to make her give it up.

By the time Uncle John had finished his lunch both Patsy and Beth had taken turns holding the fascinating "Toodlums," and now the latter plunged Jane into Mr. Merrick's lap and warned him to be very careful.

Uncle John was embarra.s.sed but greatly delighted. He cooed and clucked to the baby until it fairly laughed aloud with glee, and then he made faces until the infant became startled and regarded him with grave suspicion.

"If you've done making an old fool of yourself, sir," said the major severely, "you'll oblige me by handing over my niece."

"_Your_ niece!" was the indignant reply; "she's nothing of the sort.

Jane is _my_ niece."

"No more than mine," insisted the major; "and you're worrying her. Will you hand her over, you selfish man, or must I take her by force?"

Uncle John reluctantly submitted to the divorce and the major handled the baby as if she had been gla.s.s.

"Ye see," he remarked, lapsing slightly into his Irish brogue, as he was apt to do when much interested, "I've raised a daughter meself, which John Merrick hasn't, and I know the ways of the wee women. They know very well when a friend has 'em, and-Ouch! Leg-go, I say!"

Little Jane had his grizzly moustache fast in two chubby fists and the major's howls aroused peals of laughter.

Uncle John nearly rolled from his chair in an ecstacy of delight and he could have shaken Mildred Travers for releasing the grip of the baby fingers and rescuing the major from torture.

"Laugh, ye satyr!" growled the major, wiping the tears from his own eyes. "It's lucky you have no hair nor whiskers-any more than an egg-or you'd be writhing in agony before now." He turned to look wonderingly at the crowing baby in Mildred's arms. "It's a female Sandow!" he averred.

"The grip of her hands is something marvelous!"

CHAPTER V-INEZ THREATENS

"Yes," said Louise, a week later, "we all make fools of ourselves over Toodlums, Really, girls, Jane is a very winning baby. I don't say that because I'm her mother, understand. If she were anyone else's baby, I'd say the same thing."

"Of course," agreed Patsy. "I don't believe such a baby was ever before born. She's so happy, and sweet, and-and-"

"And comfortable," said Beth. "Indeed, Jane is a born sorceress; she bewitches everyone who beholds her dear dimpled face. This is an impartial opinion, you know; I'd say the same thing if I were not her adoring auntie."

"It's true," Patsy declared. "Even the Mexicans worship her. And Mildred Travers-the sphinx-whose blood I am sure is ice-water, displays a devotion for baby that is absolutely amazing. I don't blame her, you know, for it must be a real delight to care for such a fairy. I'm surprised, Louise, that you can bear to have baby out of your sight so much of the time."

Louise laughed lightly.

"I'm not such an unfeeling mother as you think," she answered. "I know just where baby is every minute and she is never out of my thoughts.

However, with two nurses, both very competent, to care for Toodlums, I do not think it necessary to hold her in my lap every moment."

Here Uncle John and the major approached the palm, under which the three nieces were sitting, and Mr. Merrick exclaimed:

"I'll bet a cookie you were talking of baby Jane."

"You'd win, then," replied Patsy. "There's no other topic of conversation half so delightful."

"Jane," observed the major, musingly, as he seated himself in a rustic chair. "A queer name for a baby, Louise. Whatever possessed you to burden the poor infant with it?"

"Burden? Nonsense, Major! It's a charming name," cried Patsy.

"She is named after poor Aunt Jane," said Louise.

A silence somewhat awkward followed.

"My sister Jane," remarked Uncle John gravely, "was in some respects an admirable woman."

"And in many others detestable," said Beth in frank protest. "The only good thing I can remember about Aunt Jane," she added, "is that she brought us three girls together, when we had previously been almost unaware of one anothers' existence. And she made us acquainted with Uncle John."

"Then she did us another favor," added Patsy. "She died."