style="font-size:15px;"> “Isn’t he a dear! I declare he’s just a heavenly handsome boy, with his blue eyes and – and his air! He really is too sweet for words, that boy!”
Whereat Dolly laughed and answered:
“Oh! you funny Molly! You don’t change a bit! Still ‘doting on boys’ as much as ever! How’s Melvin?”
“Melvin’s a poke. The invitation included him, too, but he sets himself up stiff as stiff and said he had no time to waste visiting. He’d got to learn the business soon as he could, for his mother – Oh! a lot of bosh about his mother, and her trusting him. Even my father – ”
“Never mind him, then, but tell me how in the world you happened to come just here and now?”
The two had retreated to the window and stood with arms about each other and Dorothy’s eyes now free from tears. Indeed, so surprising was this whole affair that she had, for a moment, forgotten Aunt Betty’s departure.
“Why, it’s this way. Mr. Ford is an old friend of Papa’s and when he found out that you knew us, too, he just planned the whole thing for a grand treat to you! He wrote Papa that he was under ‘lifelong obligation to you’ because – well, of something or other. I wasn’t told what, but it doesn’t matter. The thing that does matter is that we’re to be together all summer long, at least for three whole months. Think of that, girlie, just think of that! He wrote Papa, too, that he’d have liked to gather the whole ‘House Party’ together if it had been practical, but his wife didn’t think it would. I reckon she knew she’d have her hands full enough, chaperoning eight youngsters, without asking more. We came pretty near not getting Helena and Herbert, though! Mr. Montaigne fancied it was too much like an imposition to let them come, because he didn’t know the Fords. Helena wrote me that, so I got Dad to send him a letter to make him stop and think! Besides, Jim – that boy is just grand! He – ”
“Of course, honey. He’s a boy, you know.”
“Laugh away! I’m too happy to care. I do like boys best. Why shouldn’t I? They’re heaps more fun than girls – except you. And to think! Helena and Jim were the real chaperons of our trip, though Helena’s governess, Miss Milliken, was called such. But she’s a stick! I had the time of my life, keeping her scared all the way on. Oh! I’m glad to be off that train. Mr. Ford says we’re to finish our journey in wagons. I like that.”
“But I don’t see Miss Milliken, Molly.”
“No. She knows some people here in Denver and they met her at the station and carried her off to dine with them. I wish she’d get belated and left behind. She was a regular kill-joy all the way out.”
“Poor, meek, timid woman! She used to have so little snap that Herbert nicknamed her ‘The Worm.’ It was horrid – ”
“Well, she’s ‘turned,’ then. Of course, we were pretty full of fun and scared her with some of our pranks. But – Ah! there she is now! You can’t lose that woman! Mrs. Montaigne told her that ‘the lives of her precious children were entrusted to her hands,’ and the governess feels her responsibility to the full, I tell you. Even Helena – ”
“Dinner for the newcomers!” called Mr. Ford, interrupting, as a fresh meal was placed upon the table and they were invited to their seats. The zeal with which they accepted and the fine appetites they displayed sent a satisfied smile to their host’s lips, and he nodded merrily to his wife:
“No invalids among them! Glad of that! But youngsters, eat first, chatter afterwards! The wagons will be at the door very soon and I want to get in a good thirty miles before bedtime!”
They tried to check their eager talk but they were all too excited for quiet, and presently rose from the table, ready for the ride, while Mr. Ford said:
“Now, Erminie, wife, you do the pairing off of the youngsters, and arrange how we shall divide. First, count noses! Eight youngsters, three oldsters, two ‘boys’ – thirteen passengers in all! Miss Milliken, did you ever ‘cross the plains’ before?”
The prim little lady, who had been standing beside Mrs. Ford, appeared not to hear the gentleman’s question, but turned with an air of anxiety to ask in turn:
“Madam, did I hear there were ‘thirteen,’ THIRTEEN?”
“Yes, Miss Milliken. Why?”
“Then I think you’ll have to excuse me. I might follow you later if there were some way but I positively decline to make the thirteenth of any party.”
There certainly was nothing wormlike, or undecided, about the governess, whose lips had closed in such a thin line of obstinacy as changed her whole appearance, while her would-be hostess inquired with amusement:
“Are you superstitious, Miss Milliken? Surely, with your culture and – ”
Helena advanced with an air of authority:
“Milliken, this is absurd! Please get back your common sense. Remember we are guests and have no right to object to anything.”
The chaperon bridled, but kept silence, till Mr. Ford explained:
“Thirteen doesn’t mean the whole party. There’ll be three drivers, besides. Possibly more men picked up along the road. Moreover, thirteen is my ‘lucky number,’ if ‘luck’ is anything. Well, Mrs. Ford, have you arranged the company?”
“No, I cannot. I know them so slightly, as yet, and the best way is to draw lots. How many will the first buckboard carry?”
“Eight, all told. A dozen, if need be. Well, time’s precious! Here’s a lot of matches. The whole ones go in number one, the next lengths in wagon two, and the little ones in the last. See, I’ve snapped them off, and Miss Milliken, as head of the expedition, please draw first!”
The lady flushed and drew. Her lot was in the last and smallest buckboard which would carry but two more beside the driver; and it fell out that her companions would be Alfaretta and Monty Stark. The driver was known as Silent Pete, and it certainly was an odd combination which had resulted from the first “drawing.”
To the leading wagon the “lots” assigned the three Fords and Jedediah, their colored “boy,” with Molly, Helena and Herbert – their driver, Lem Hunt, the most talkative man at San Leon but, also, the crack whip of the ranch.
The driver of the second team was “Tenderfoot Sorrel,” so called because of his red hair and his comparatively recent arrival from the east. He was less familiar with the country than the other two teamsters and had been assigned to the place in the middle of the little cavalcade, so that “he can’t lose hisself afore or ahind, ary way,” as Lemuel explained it.
Naturally, everybody was disappointed at the result of the lots, Mrs. Ford protesting that it was inhospitable to put all her family in one vehicle, and that the best, but that “a Ford should have been in each.”
“Let’s change, then,” begged Monty, “and let one of the girls settle it as she knows we’d like it.”
But Alfy gave him such a frown that he ducked his head, avoiding an imaginary blow, while Miss Milliken as vigorously declared:
“You mustn’t do that. Oh! don’t do that! ’Twould be the very worst luck of all. Something would surely happen!”
“Well, if there doesn’t I shall
