Meg of Mystery Mountain Part 21

"Indeed I do!" Meg replied. "They seem like live things to me, and so I was not surprised to read recently that a scientist, with some very delicate instrument, has learned that many plants are sentient, though not acutely so. Since then I have never torn a plant ruthlessly. That scientist advised cutting flowers rather than breaking them."

It was indeed Meg's much-loved subject and her eyes glowed as she gazed at the banks of scarlet salvia, at the ma.s.ses of golden glow, and many-hued asters.

"Someone else must love flowers," she commented, turning to look back at Jean. He nodded. "It is my best friend, Mr. Packard. You two ought to be great cronies. I sometimes tell him that I think it is the color effect, rather than the individual flower, that he so greatly admires, but here he comes now."

They were riding up to the circling drive which pa.s.sed under a vine-covered portico. Mr. Packard leaped down the steps with an agility which seemed to dispute the years his graying hair attributed to him.

"Welcome!" he cried, with a wide sweep of his sombrero. "This is indeed a pleasant surprise, although I can hardly call it that as I have been watching for just such a cavalcade to come riding down my foothills ever since the dawn broke." He held out his strong arms to lift little Julie, whose face, still tear-stained and white with pain, appealed to him. He held her close as he listened sympathetically while Gerald told what had happened to the poor little foot. Then, after giving a word of greeting to each of the guests, he bade them follow him indoors to the breakfast that had long been awaiting them.

The girls found that a wing, containing two rooms and a bath, and overlooking the little lake, had been prepared for their comfort. Gerald, with the two older boys, sought quarters elsewhere in the rambling ranch house, which had room for the accommodation of many guests.

"When you girls have prinked enough," Mr. Packard said merrily, "follow the scent of the coffee and you will find the rest of us." When the door had closed and the three girls were alone, Jane held out a hand to Meg, saying: "Will you forgive me for everything, and let me try to be a real friend?" An expression of gladness in the mountain girl's dusky eyes was her most eloquent reply.

Directly after breakfast in the dining-room, which seemed to be all windows and where they were served by a silently moving Chinaman, the girls were told that they were to go to their wing and rest until noon.

This was in no way a displeasing suggestion and in a very short while Julie and Jane in one room and Meg in the other were deep in slumber.

Gerald was also advised to rest, but he declared that he would rather stay awake and see what was going to happen. Dan laughed as he said that Gerald seemed always to believe that an adventure might begin at any moment.

"What boy does not?" Mr. Packard smiled understandingly down at the stocky little fellow whose clear blue eyes and freckled face beamed good nature. Then, quite as though he could read the small boy's thought, the man exclaimed: "Gerald, you ought to wear my grandson's cowboy outfit.

He'd be glad to loan it to you." That this suggestion met with the youngster's entire approval was quite evident by the wild dance which he executed then and there.

Jean led the little fellow away and before long Gerald reappeared, clothed in a costume of the most approved style, a fringed buckskin suit, a red bandana handkerchief loosely knotted about his neck, while in one hand he held a wide felt hat on which to his great joy a dried rattlesnake skin served as band. His own small gun was never out of his possession.

"Great!" Dan said with brotherly pride. "I wish our dad and dear old grandmother might see you now, Gerry. You do indeed look ready to start on an adventure."

"Where'll we go to look for it?" The small boy gazed eagerly, hopefully up at their genial host.

"Well, sonny, what kind of an adventure would you prefer?" the amused man asked as though he were willing, at least, to attempt to provide whatever adventure his small guest might desire.

"I'd like an Indian raid best, or a hold-up." The boy was thinking of the most exciting things he could recall in his set of Wild-West books, but Mr. Packard shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, sonny, but the Utes are a friendly tribe: peaceable, anyway, and they are no longer our near neighbors. They have moved their camp deeper into the mountains. And, as for hold-ups, since we are neither on a stage or a train we cannot provide that, but if you boys are not too weary I am going to suggest that you ride with me to the old stage road. I've been losing some calves lately and Jean believes that they might have been driven into an abandoned corral over in the foothills at night, and later were spirited away." He hesitated. "It's a hard ride, though. Perhaps you boys would rather not undertake it until tomorrow."

But they were glad to go, and Gerald would not agree to being left behind. He was given a small horse that was gentle and used to boys, as the grandson had claimed it as his own, and so they rode away, having left word for the girls that they would return as soon as possible.

In the mid-morning they reached the old abandoned stage road. "No one uses it now, that is, for legitimate purposes, as it is very dangerous.

There are washouts and cutways that make it almost impa.s.sable for stage or for auto travel." Then, pointing to the place where the road circled a high hill, Mr. Packard concluded: "Jean, can you see where yesterday's cloudburst washed out the road? It has started a new canon that will have to be bridged, for now and then a tenderfoot autoist does get started on that old road, thinking that it leads to Redfords. Time and again we have put up signs on the main highway, but they are hurled down in the storms, I suppose."

Dan had been intently tracing the old road until it was lost from sight.

Suddenly he urged his horse forward to Mr. Packard's side. "May I take the field gla.s.ses? I feel sure that I see a dark object moving along that old road and coming this way. You look first, though. Your eyes are better trained to these distances than mine." Mr. Packard gazed long, then he turned to Jean. "Boy," he said, "it looks like an auto moving slowly this way. If it ever starts on that down grade toward the washout there is going to be a tragedy."

Jean was eagerly alert. "What shall we do, Mr. Packard? How can it be averted?"

The automobile had disappeared as the road circled behind a hill, but the watchers well knew that if it did not meet with disaster it would soon reappear above the washout and then be unable to stop because of the steep descent.

"Follow me!" Mr. Packard gave the brief order, and, urging his horse to its utmost speed, he led the way at what seemed to Gerald a breakneck pace. The small boy clung to his wiry little pony, which kept close behind the racing mustangs. It was evident to the boys that Mr. Packard was hoping to round the foot of the hill in time to shout a warning to the autoists before they began the descent which would prove fatal. It seemed a very long distance to Dan and he could not see how they possibly could make it. He kept his eyes constantly on the crest of the hill road, dreading the moment when the car would appear, there to plunge down to certain destruction. Mr. Packard rounded the foot of the hill first, whirled in his saddle, beckoned the boys to make haste, then disappeared, leaving his horse standing riderless. "What can _that_ mean?" Dan asked, but Jean merely shook his head. In another moment they would know. When they, also, had rounded the hill, they saw that "ill fortune," as autoists usually consider a blow-out, had befriended the travelers. The car had been stopped just as it had begun the ascent of the hill, on the other side of which sure death had awaited them.

Mr. Packard was seen breaking a trail through the underbrush. From time to time he hallooed, and the boys saw that at last he had been heard.

"It will be needless for us to make the climb," Jean said, "since Mr.

Packard will warn them," and so the three boys awaited the man's return.

"Who were they?" Jean inquired. Mr. Packard, removing his Stetson to wipe his brow, shook his head. "I do not know. Some family from the East trying to cross the Rockies. They could have done it easily enough if they had not taken the wrong road. The woman in the party is so utterly exhausted that I invited them to come to our place to rest. I showed them the road from the foot of the hill back of them. It certainly isn't in good condition, but, being on the level, it at least will not be dangerous. The woman fainted when she heard how near death lurked ahead of them, but they'll be all right now. We'll inspect that old foothill corral some other day, Jean. These strangers have need of our friendly services." Mr. Packard turned his horse's head toward the ranch as he spoke and they all galloped back at a moderate speed.

"That was sort of an adventure, wasn't it?" Gerald inquired hopefully.

Mr. Packard laughed heartily. "I certainly think it could be so cla.s.sified," he agreed. "I shudder to think what it would have been, however, if that tire had not halted them. We could not have reached them in time."

Although it was not quite noon, the girls were up and dressed when the equestrians returned and were greatly interested in all that had happened. Gerald waxed eloquent as he told Julie the details, and that little girl, who hungered for adventure quite as much as her brother, hoped that if anything exciting happened again, she might be in the thick of it.

Mr. Packard retired to the kitchen to advise Sing Long, the cook, that four other guests were to arrive for lunch. Although that Chinaman's reply was merely "Ally lite" the American interpretation of his pleased smile would be, "the more the merrier." Guests were his joy that he might display the art at which he excelled.

An hour later a big, luxurious closed car limped into the ranch door-yard. Mr. Packard went out to greet the strangers in the same hospitable manner that he had greeted his friends. The girls on the wide porch saw a fine looking man with a Van d.y.k.e beard a.s.sisting a simply though richly gowned woman from the car, then the front door was flung open! There was a joyful cry from a girl who leaped out and fairly raced up the front steps with arms out-held. "O Jane, Jane! How wonderful to find you here! We were looking for your cabin and that's how we came to lose our way."

"Marion Starr, of all things! I thought that you were in Newport!"

CHAPTER XXVIII.

OLD FRIENDS

Jean, Dan and Gerald had gone at once to the corral with the four horses they had ridden and were still there (for Jean had much to show his guests) when the car arrived, and so the excitement was quite over when they at last sauntered around one corner of the porch.

There were four in the party of autoists, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Starr, Marion, and Bob, her young brother.

Jane at once took Merry to her room, while Julie accepted Meg's invitation to wander about the gardens and make the acquaintance of the flowers. Mr. Packard had just returned from showing Mr. and Mrs. Starr to the guest room when the boys appeared. Bob Starr had lingered to look over the car, which was the pride of his heart, and so it was that he first met Jean, Dan and Gerald. Jean proved himself an expert mechanic, as was also Mr. Packard, and they promised the lad that directly after lunch they would a.s.sist him in putting his car in the best of shape.

Meanwhile Jane and Merry were telling each other all that had happened since last they had met.

"I simply can't understand it in the least," Jane declared for the tenth time. "To think that you deliberately gave up the opportunity to spend a whole summer in Newport to undergo the hardships of a cross-country motor trip."

Merry dropped down in a deep easy chair and laughed happily. "Oh, I've loved it! Every hour of the trip has been fascinating. Of course I'm mighty glad Mr. Packard saved our lives, but even that was exciting."

"But wasn't your Aunt Belle terribly disappointed?"

"Why, no; not at all. There are steens of us in the Starr family. She just invited some other girl cousins. Aunt Belle is never so happy as when she is surrounded with gay young girls. Then, moreover, Esther Ballard couldn't go. Her artist father had planned a tramping trip through Switzerland as a surprise for her and Barbara Morris decided to accompany them; so you and I would have been quite alone at Newport. But do tell me who is the girl to whom you introduced me when I first arrived? She is beautiful, isn't she?"

Jane surely had changed in the past week, for her reply was sincere and even enthusiastic. "Merry, that girl is more than beautiful. She is wonderful! I want you to know her better. She has saved me from myself."

Then she laughingly arose, holding out both hands to a.s.sist her friend to her feet. "If you are rested, dear, come out on the porch. I want you to meet the nicest, well, almost the nicest boy I have ever known."

Merry glanced up roguishly. "Are congratulations in order?"

Jane flushed prettily, though she protested: "You know they are not, Marion Starr! Romance is as far from my thoughts today as it ever was, but next to Dan, I do like Jean best."

"Well, I certainly am curious to meet this paragon of a youth." Merry gave her friend's waist a little affectionate hug, then said: "I have a pretty nice brother of my own. He ought to be ready by now to be presented to my best friend." Together they went toward the front door.

"I know Bob must be nice," Jane agreed, "since he is your twin."

The girls appeared on the porch just as the boys had completed an inspection of the machine and so Jane's "paragon," with a smudge of grease on one cheek and smeared hands, laughingly begged Merry to pardon his inability to remove his hat. Before Marion could reply, her brother led her aside and talked rapidly and in a low voice, then returning he said in his pleasing manner: "Miss Abbott, you will pardon any seeming lack of courtesy on my part when I tell you there was something very important which I wished to say to my sister, and there is no time like the present, you know."