"See here, boys, I'm right sorry, but I've got to see Benson to-morrow about those steers6. That means that I've got to go as far as Bolo to-night, and that I sha'n't be back in time to start with the rest of you to meet the folks. But I'll see you in Bolo day after to-morrow at noon. The train is due then. Now be on hand, all of you that can. We want Miss Genevieve and her friends to have a right royal welcome. I reckon now I'd better be off. So long! Now remember—day after to-morrow at noon!" he finished, turning away.
"As if we'd be a-forgettin' it," grinned Long John, a tall, lank7 fellow sprawled8 in a hammock, "when the little mistress hain't set her pretty foot on the place since last August!"
"If only she wa'n't bringin' all them others," groaned9 the short, sandy-haired man on the steps. "I'd just like to rope the whole bunch and send 'em back East again, old lady and all—all but the little mistress, of course. Boys, what are we a-goin' to do with an old lady—even though she ain't so awful old—and five tom-fool girls on the Six Star Ranch?"
"Ees not the Señorita a gurrl, also?" laughed a dark-eyed Mexican from his perch10 on the gallery railing. "Eh, Reddy?"
"Sure, Pedro," retorted the sandy-haired man, testily11. (Pedro was the only Mexican cowboy at the ranch, and even he was barely tolerated.) "But the little mistress ain't no tenderfoot girl. She don't howl at a rattlesnake nor jump at a prairie dog; and she knows how to ride, and which end of a gun goes off!"
There was a general laugh, followed by a long silence—the boys did not usually talk so much together, but to-night a curious restlessness pervaded12 them all. Suddenly the tall man in the hammock pulled himself erect13.
"Look a-here, boys, that's jest it," he began in a worried voice. "What if the little mistress has changed? What if she hain't no use for us and the ranch any more? I never told ye, but at the first, last August, 'fore4 she went away, I heard the boss and Mr. Hartley a-talkin'. They was sayin' she'd got to go East to learn how to live like a lady should—to know girls, and books, and all that. They said she was runnin' wild here with only us for playmates, and that they had just got ter pasture her out where the grass was finer, and the fences nearer tergether."
"They sure did—and more. They said two real ladies was a-goin' ter take her and make her like themselves—a lady. And, boys, I was wonderin'—how is a lady goin' ter like us, and the ranch?"
There was a moment's tense silence. The boys were staring, wide-eyed and appalled15, into each other's faces.
From somewhere came a deep sigh.
"Gorry!—she can't, she just can't, after all her book-learnin' and culturin'," groaned a new voice.
For a time no one spoke; then Reddy cleared his throat.
"Look a-here, there ain't but jest one thing to do. If she don't like the ranch—and us—we'll jest have to make the ranch—and us—so she will like 'em."
"Slick 'em up—and us," retorted the sandy-haired man, with finality. "I was raised East, and I know the sort of doin's they hanker after. To-morrow mornin' we'll begin. I'll show you; you'll see," he finished in a louder tone, as Teresa's clanging supper bell sent them in a stampede through the long covered way that led to the dining-room which, with the cook room, occupied the large, low building thirty feet to the rear of the ranch house.
When Tim Nolan arrived at the Bolo station a little before noon two days later, he stared in open-mouthed wonder at the sight that greeted his eyes. In a wavering, straggling line stood ten stiff, red-faced, miserable17 men, dressed in what was, to Tim Nolan, the strangest assortment18 of garments he had ever seen.
Two of the men were in dead black, from head to foot. Four wore stiff, not over-clean white shirts. Six sported flaming red neckties. One had unearthed19 from somewhere a frock coat three sizes too small for him, which he wore very proudly, however, over a flannel20 shirt adorned21 with a red-and-green silk handkerchief knotted at the throat. Another displayed a somewhat battered22 silk hat. But, whatever they wore, each showed a face upon which hope, despair, pride, shame, and physical misery23 were curiously24 blended.
For an instant Tim Nolan peered at them with unrecognizing eyes; then he gave a low ejaculation.
"Reddy! Carlos! Jim! Boys!" he gasped. "What in the world is the meaning of this?"
"Eet ees that we welcome the little Señorita an' her frien's," bowed Pedro, doffing25 his sombrero which was the only part of his usual costume that he had retained.
"But—I don't understand," demurred26 the foreman; "these rigs of yours! Reddy, where in time did you corral that coat?"
Reddy shifted from one uneasy foot to the other.
"Pedro's told you—we're here to welcome the little mistress, of course. We've slicked up. We—we didn't want the shock too sudden—from the East, you know."
For another moment Tim Nolan stared; then he threw back his head and laughed—laughed till the faces of the men before him grew red with something more than discomfort27.
At that moment a pretty young girl in khaki and a cowboy hat made her appearance astride a frisky28 little mustang. She wore a cartridge29 belt about her waist—though there was no revolver in her holster.
"Is Genevieve coming to-day, sure?" she called out joyfully30. "I heard she was, and I've come to meet her."
"There, boys," bantered31 the ranch foreman, "now here's a young lady who knows how to welcome the mistress of the Six Star Ranch!" Then, to the girl: "Sure, Miss Susie, we do expect Genevieve, and we're here to welcome her, as you see," he finished with a sweep of his broad-brimmed hat.
It looked, for a moment, as if the wavering, straggling men would break ranks and run; but a sudden distant whistle, and a sharp command from Reddy brought them right about face.
"Buck32 up, boys," he ordered sharply. "I reckon the little mistress ain't a-goin' ter turn us down! She'll like it. You'll see!"
The train had scarcely come to a stop before Genevieve was off the car steps.
"Mr. Tim, Mr. Tim—here I am! Oh, how good you look!" she cried, holding out both her hands. A minute later she turned to introduce the embarrassed foreman to Mrs. Kennedy and the girls, who, with her father, were following close at her heels. This task was not half completed, however, when she spied the red-faced, anxious-eyed men.
As Mr. Tim had done, she stared dumbly for a moment; then, leaving the rest of the introductions to her father, she ran toward them.
"Why, it's the boys—our boys! Carlos, Long John, Reddy! But what is the matter? How queer you look! Is anybody sick—or—dead?" she stammered33, plainly in doubt what to say.
"Sure, it's for you—we're a-welcomin' you," exploded Long John, jerking at his collar which was obviously too small for him.
Genevieve's face showed a puzzled frown.
"But these clothes!—why are you like this?—and after all I've promised the girls about you, too!"
"You mean—you don't like it—this?" demanded Reddy, incredulous hope in his eyes and voice.
"Of course I don't like it! I've been promising34 the girls all the way here that you'd give them a welcome that was a welcome! And now—but why did you do it, boys?"
Long John drew himself to his full height.
"Why? 'Cause Reddy said to," he answered. "Reddy said we'd better ease up on the shock it would be to you—here, after all you'd been used to back East—fine clothes, fine feed, and fine doin's all around, to say nothin' of books and learnin' in between times; so we—we tried to break ye in easy. That's all," he finished, a little lamely35.
"And then these clothes mean—that?" demanded the girl.
Long John nodded dumbly.
Genevieve gave a ringing laugh, but her eyes grew soft as she extended her hand to each man in turn.
"What old dears you are—every one of you!" she exclaimed. "Now go home quick, and get comfortable." She would have said more, but some[68] one called her and she turned abruptly36. Cordelia Wilson, looking half frightened, half exultant37, but wholly excited, was pulling at her sleeve.
"Genevieve, Genevieve, quick," she was panting; "is that a cowboy—that, over there—talking to your father?"
Genevieve turned with a wondering frown. The next moment she burst into a merry laugh.
"Oh, Cordelia, Cordelia, you will be the death of me, yet! No, that isn't a cowboy. It's Susie Billings. She lives on a ranch near here."
"A girl—dressed like that—and carrying a revolver! Just a common 'Susie!'" gasped Cordelia.
"Yes—just a common 'Susie,'" twinkled Genevieve.
"But I thought she was a—a cowboy," quavered Cordelia. "You said they'd be here in—in all their war paint!"
"Boys, she thinks that's a cowboy! Come on—say we show 'em! Eh?"
Genevieve laughed softly at what Cordelia had said, and at the disappointment in her voice.
"Cowboys? Well, they are here," she acknowledged with twitching39 lips, "and in their war paint, too—of a kind! They're right here—Why, they're gone," she broke off. "Never mind," she laughed, as she caught sight of a silk hat and a black coat hurrying toward a group of saddled ponies40. "I reckon you'll see all the cowboys you want to before you go back East again. Now come up and meet Susie—and she hasn't, really, any revolver there, Cordelia, in spite of that cartridge belt and holster. She's always rigging up that way. She likes it!"
Susie proved to be "a girl just like us," as Cordelia amazedly expressed it to Alma Lane. She was certainly a very pleasant one, they all decided41. But even Susie could not keep their eyes from wandering to the unfamiliar42 scene around them.
It was a bare little station set in the midst of a bare little prairie town, and quite unlike anything the Easterners had ever seen before. Broad, dusty streets led seemingly nowhere. Low, straggling houses stretched out lazy lengths of untidiness, except where a group of taller, more pretentious43 buildings indicated the stores, a hotel or two, several boarding houses, and numerous saloons and dance halls.
From the station doorway, a blanketed Indian looked out with stolid44, unsmiling face. Leaning against a post a dreamy-eyed Mexican in tight trousers, red sash, and tall peaked hat, smoked a cigarette. Halfway45 down the platform a tired-looking man in heavy cowhide boots and rough clothes, watched beside a huge canvas-topped wagon46 beyond which could be seen the switching tails of six great oxen.
"There's Fred's 'boat,'" remarked Bertha, laughingly, to Cordelia.
"Where? What?" Cordelia had been trying to look in all directions at once.
"Now that looks like the pictures," asserted Cordelia. "I wonder if the cowboys will."
"I declare, the whole thing is worse than a three-ring circus," declared Tilly, aggrievedly, to Genevieve. "I simply can't see everything!"
"All aboard for the ranch," called Mr. Hartley, leading the way around to the other side of the station; and like a flock of prairie chickens, as Genevieve put it, they all trooped after him.
"Why, what funny horses!" cried Tilly, as Mr. Hartley stopped before a large, old-fashioned three-seated carriage drawn48 up to the platform.
At Genevieve's chuckling49 laugh, Tilly threw a sharper glance toward the two gray creatures attached to the carriage.
"Why, they aren't horses at all—yes, they are—no, they aren't, either!"
"I always heard young ladies were a bit changeable," grinned Tim Nolan, mischievously50; "but do they always change their minds as often as that, Miss?"
"Yes, they do—when the occasion demands it," retorted Tilly, with a merry glance; and Tim Nolan laughed appreciatively.
"Well, they aren't horses," smiled Mr. Hartley, as he gave his hand to help Mrs. Kennedy into the carriage. "They happen to be mules51. Now, Miss Tilly, if you'll come in here with Mrs. Kennedy, we'll put two other young ladies and myself in the other two seats, and leave Genevieve to do the honors in one of the ranch wagons52 with the rest of you. The baggage, the boys are already putting in the other wagon, I see," he added, looking back to where two men were busy with a pile of trunks and bags. "They'll come along after us. Mr. Tim is on his horse, of course. We'll let him show us the way. Now stow yourselves comfortably," he admonished53 his guests. "You know we have an eighteen-mile ride ahead of us!"
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1
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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plentifully
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| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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steers
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| n.阉公牛，肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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skeptical
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| adj.怀疑的，多疑的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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assortment
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| n.分类，各色俱备之物，聚集 | |
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unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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doffing
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| n.下筒，落纱v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的现在分词 ) | |
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demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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frisky
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| adj.活泼的，欢闹的；n.活泼，闹着玩；adv.活泼地，闹着玩地 | |
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cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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bantered
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| v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的过去式和过去分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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51
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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