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Page 32
Then after careful inquiry as to directions, and learning that there was
more than one route to the town he had mentioned in his telegram, he went
back to his companion. She was ready to go, for the presence of other
people about her made her uneasy. She feared again there would be
objection to their further progress together. Somehow the old woman's
words had grown into a shadow which hovered over her. She mounted her
horse gladly, and they went forward. He told her what he had just done,
and how he expected to get his mail the next morning when they reached the
next town. He explained that there was a ranch half-way there where they
might stop all night.
She was troubled at the thought of another ranch. She knew there would be
more questions, and perhaps other disagreeable words said; but she held
her peace, listening to his plans. Her wonder was great over the telegram.
She knew little or nothing about modern discoveries. It was a mystery to
her how he could receive word by morning from a place that it had taken
them nearly two days to leave behind, and how had he sent a message over a
wire? Yes, she had heard of telegrams, but had never been quite sure they
were true. When he saw that she was interested, he went on to tell her of
other wonderful triumphs of science, the telephone, the electric light,
gas, and the modern system of water-works. She listened as if it were all
a fairy tale. Sometimes she looked at him, and wondered whether it could
be true, or whether he were not making fun of her; but his earnest, honest
eyes forbade doubt.
At the ranch they found two women, a mother and her daughter. The man
asked frankly whether they could take care of this young friend of his
overnight, saying that she was going on to the town in the morning, and
was in his care for the journey. This seemed to relieve all suspicion. The
two girls eyed each other, and then smiled.
"I'm Myrtle Baker," said the ranch-owner's daughter. "Come; I'll take you
where you can wash your hands and face, and then we'll have some supper."
Myrtle Baker was a chatterer by nature. She talked incessantly; and,
though she asked many questions, she did not wait for half of them to be
answered. Besides, the traveller had grown wary. She did not intend to
talk about the relationship between herself and her travelling companion.
There was a charm in Myrtle's company which made the girl half regret
leaving the next morning, as they did quite early, amid protests from
Myrtle and her mother, who enjoyed a visitor in their isolated home.
But the ride that morning was constrained. Each felt in some subtle way
that their pleasant companionship was coming to a crisis. Ahead in that
town would be letters, communications from the outside world of friends,
people who did not know or care what these two had been through together,
and who would not hesitate to separate them with a firm hand. Neither put
this thought into words, but it was there in their hearts, in the form of
a vague fear. They talked very little, but each was feeling how pleasant
the journey had been, and dreading what might be before.
They wanted to stay in this Utopia of the plains, forever journeying
together, and never reaching any troublesome futures where were laws and
opinions by which they must abide.
But the morning grew bright, and the road was not half long enough. Though
at the last they walked their horses, they reached the town before the
daily train had passed through. They went straight to the station, and
found that the train was an hour late; but a telegram had arrived for the
man. He took it nervously, his fingers trembling. He felt a premonition
that it contained something unpleasant.
The girl sat on her horse by the platform, watching him through the open
station door where he was standing as he tore open the envelope. She saw a
deathly pallor overspread his face, and a look of anguish as if an arrow
had pierced his heart. She felt as if the arrow had gone on into her own
heart, and then she sat and waited. It seemed hours before he glanced up,
with an old, weary look in his eyes. The message read:
"Your mother seriously ill. Wants you immediately. Will send your baggage
on morning train. Have wired you are coming."
It was signed by his cousin with whom he had been taking his
hunting-trip, and who was bound by business to go further West within a
few days more.
The strong young man was almost bowed under this sudden stroke. His mother
was very dear to him. He had left her well and happy. He must go to her at
once, of course; but what should he do with the girl who had within the
last two days taken so strong a hold upon his--he hesitated, and called it
"protection." That word would do in the present emergency.
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