Dorothy on a Ranch

“Oh! sir, have you found him?”

A negative shake of the head answered her. Then she plied him with all sorts of questions: how long could a sick boy live exposed to the night air, as Jim had been; without food or medicine; and couldn’t he think of some place that nobody else had searched, so she might go and try it?

He laid his hand upon her head and gently asked:

“Was he your brother, little girl?”

“No. I haven’t any brother. I haven’t anybody but Jim, that has known me always, seems if, and – and dear Doctor, won’t you please, please find him?”

Clasping her hands about his arm she looked up piteously into his face, and his own grew pitiful as he answered:

“I will do my utmost. What I hope is that he will wander back, of his own will, just as he wandered away. Be sure I shall keep a sharp lookout, but it is Mr. Ford’s wish that I do not leave the home-place till – at present. If he is found, I mean when he is found, he will need my care and it wouldn’t do for me to be away then. Else I should have gone out with one of the searching parties.”

That “when he is found” was reassuring. Evidently, the doctor expected the speedy return of the lad and all were relieved, even Dorothy. Alfaretta expressed her own feeling by saying:

“Out here in this Colorado, seems if there wasn’t anything but folks gettin’ lost and other folks searching for ’em. I never heard anything like it,” she finished with a sigh.

The sigh was echoed by all the rest; then Mrs. Ford suggested:

“Let us have luncheon now, then call on Lemuel to give us our first lesson in rifle-firing.” She assumed a cheerfulness she did not really feel, but felt that the happiness of so many should not be spoiled by the absence of one.

“Oh! Lady Gray, will you practice with us?” asked Leslie, eagerly.

“To be sure. I’m going to ‘play pretend,’ as children say, that I’m just as young as any of you. In my busy life I’ve not had much time for ‘playing’ but I mean to make up for lost time. Come, I’m sure that Wun Sing has made something nice for us. He – ”

“Wun Sing! Wun Sing? Why that was the name of Aunt Betty’s cook at El Paraiso! How odd that yours should have the same name!” exclaimed Dorothy, forgetting her troubles for the moment.

“Not so odd, dearie, because it is the same man. He came to Mr. Ford one day while we were still in San Diego and confessed his regret for his behavior at Mrs. Calvert’s home. And my good Daniel can never turn his back upon any penitent; so the result is the Chinaman reigns in our kitchen here. Doubtless he’ll be pleased to see Alfaretta who taught him so many fine dishes.”

“Oh! good! May we go see him, Mrs. Ford?” demanded that young person, eager not only to see Wun Sing because he was one more familiar acquaintance but because she wished to settle a few old scores. “I’m so glad! I’ll make him toe the mark here, see if I don’t. Come on, Dolly Doodles, he’s an old friend of yours, too.”

Alfy’s eagerness infected even anxious Dorothy and gave an agreeable turn to the thoughts of all. So, at a nod of consent, the girls sped along the cloister, seeking the great kitchen and the salaaming grinning Chinaman within it.

“Oh! how good you look, Wunny! Same old purple sack! same old shoes; same old twisted cue around your same old shiny black head! Same old nasty messes cooking! and same old Alfaretta to get after you with a sharp stick!” cried Leslie bursting in with all the others.

Even Dorothy was laughing now, Jim quite forgot, while the cook held such a reception as had never been his before. Leslie went through some formal introductions, beginning with the lady of the mansion and ending with Miss Milliken, who had followed unseen till now.

Wun Sing’s back must have ached, so often and so low he bowed, while his tongue mumbled compliments to the most gracious and honorable visitors; but a look of real delight was on his swarthy face and one of great affection for smiling Alfaretta.

“My heart! Ain’t it just grand to find an old friend up here on the mountains! I declare, it does beat the Dutch!” and to this, her expression of greatest wonderment, Leslie added his own:

“Just downright rippin’! He’s worth all he costs just to make our Dolly forget that horrid Jim Barlow. I can’t forgive him for running away and stirring up all this mess, sending Dad off on a tiresome ride and spoiling sport this way. He was good enough, I’d have treated him decent, all right, but I wish now he’d never been heard of.”

But the most of this was whispered in his mother’s ear, as he stood beside her, his hand upon her shoulder, in that familiar, loving attitude which always made her so happy.

Then she demanded of the proud chef how soon he could have lunch ready, and he replied with another gesture of profound respect:

“Light away, this instlant! By my honorable forefathers it is fittee for the most bleautiful!”

Then he bowed them out of the place and they wandered to the pretty room where the meal would be served, and which because of its simple, cloister-like effect, Helena at once named “The Refectory.”

It had been a trifling incident, but it had had a happy effect. All tongues were talking now, planning, anticipating, wondering over the things they meant to do and to learn; while a man was sent across to the “Barracks” to tell Lemuel that they would like to begin their rifle lessons that afternoon.

Mrs. Ford suggested naps for everybody, on account of their previous long journeys but none wished to sleep just then.

“How can anybody be tired in this glorious air?” asked Helena, burying her nose in a beautiful bunch of wild flowers somebody had placed beside her plate.

Even Miss Milliken was wide awake now and as happy as she ever could be anywhere. Her one complaint was that it was “so far from civilization.”

“But you knew that, Milly, before you came. Mamma stated everything to you as plainly as could be. You knew you were going to an isolated ranch on a mountain, so how could you expect daily papers, visitors, and such things? You’ve always said you loved quiet and, now you’ve got it, do be satisfied,” begged Helena. She was really fond of the nervous little governess but sometimes lost patience with her.

“Yes, dear, but suppose – suppose something happened? Illness at home, or something serious.”

Lady Gray gently interposed, and made, also, her little speech. It was her first and last advice, or request, to her guests and most of them were impressed by it.

“Dear Miss Milliken, don’t be troubled by ‘being so far from civilization.’ You aren’t that, at all. My husband has brought civilization with him. I am amazed at all he has accomplished. We have a telegraph line – that he found necessary for his business, but that can be used by any of us. Bad news travels fast. Be sure if ‘anything happens’ we shall hear of it all too soon. And now I have but one suggestion to make for our life together, and I mean to apply it to myself first of all. It is: Let us put everything unpleasant under our feet, as far as possible, and each do his and her share to make this a wholly joyous summer. I’m inclined to ‘worry’ and it’s a most unfortunate inclination. This is the first time I have had a chance to make a ‘home’ for Daniel and Leslie and I want it to be perfect. Will you all help me? Will you all take my dear husband’s words for a summer text and make life at this dear San Leon a synonym of ‘Peace and Good Will’?”

Lady Gray’s beautiful face was very earnest, there was even a suspicion of tears in her long-lashed eyes, but they did not fall, and, after a moment’s silence, Leslie sprang to his feet with a:

“Hip, hip, hurra, for the Gray Lady and her maiden speech! All in favor of following her lead, say ‘Aye’!”

All the company rose and the deafening “Ayes” which those young throats emitted were as flattering as confusing to the “speech” maker. Then she waved them back to their chairs and Wun Sing’s perfection lunch was served.

Of course they all missed their jolly host, and their hearts were still troubled because of the missing Jim; but each strove with the other to keep these feelings out of sight. This was hardest for Dorothy, who guessed that the lady’s suggestion was meant for her most of all; yet she bravely tried to smile at every witticism made by her mates and to respond in sort as far as she could. They had been a little company of eight and because one was away should the seven be made to suffer? She would try not, and contented herself with one final question, as the hostess rose from the table and, the others hurrying “Barracks”-ward, she could whisper:

“Even if they don’t find my poor boy right away, you won’t let them give up looking, will you, dearest Gray Lady?”

Mrs. Ford drew the child close into her arms and kissed her tenderly:

“Don’t fear that, for a moment, darling. As if James Barlow were our own Leslie, the search for him would never be given up till he were found. Scouts will be looking for him everywhere; though, of course he’s sure to be found near home and soon. Now, my dear little girl, shorten up that long face and trust to older heads to do the right thing. Your business now, as it has always seemed to be, is to make your playmates happy. Jim shall be found; and soon – I do believe. You’ve heard the men say that whatever ‘Dan Ford, Railroad Boss’ undertook he accomplished. Now let’s put that matter aside and learn how to handle a rifle.”

“Captain Lem” had made great preparations for his “shooting school.” He had called upon his own company, as far as he could find it, to help him. Most of the “boys” had gone searching, but the few who were left soon had a row of benches set out, a target placed, and the finest guns available stacked in readiness. It was really a very business like arrangement and the would-be students soon found Lemuel’s rule was business only. For the boys he had placed arm-rests and they were to fire from the ground, aided by these slight supports.

“The females can stand and shoot, on account o’ their petticoats worryin’ ’em, lyin’. An’ as I can’t do nothin’ unless it’s by rule an’ rod, I lay it this way: Mrs. Ford, bein’ she’s the eldest – though she don’t look it, Ma’am! – she’ll begin. Nobody can have more ’n two tries to a round. Then Number Two takes it. The schoolma’am next, an’ mebbe I mistook in that matter of age. But that’s not here nor there. Mrs. Ford, Number One; the schoolma’am, Two; the rest the females follerin’ in order. Then the boys. One, two, three – attention! Step right here, lady, and I’ll show you the first position – how to hold your rifle.”

Captain Lem had put on a rusty uniform, a relic of former grandeur “back home,” and carried his bent shoulders with a military precision that quite transformed him. He gave Gray Lady a salute, moved forward and placed her “in position” and handed her the rifle.

“Hold it just this way, scholar, and sight your bull’s-eye. Keep your eye on that, allowin’ for a little play in the carryin’, and now – pull your trigger – let her go!”

Mrs. Ford obeyed, or thought she did. The result was that the gun kicked, she screamed, and threw it as far from her as she could. What became of the bullet she never knew, but she firmly declined any further lessons in the fine art of sharpshooting.

“Look at Lem’s face!” whispered Herbert to Molly who giggled and returned:

“Wait till it comes my turn, I’ll show him something!”

The Captain, as they henceforth called him tried to hide his look of disgust by turning his back upon the group, and asking in a sarcastic tone:

“Any more females want to take a try? The schoolma’am lady, for instance?”