Chicken Little Jane on the Big John Part 8

"Monks? What do you mean?"

"Well, I just guess they did things that made them sicker than eating green cherries, and I didn't intend to eat enough to make me sick, but I didn't seem to feel any sorrier and----"

Chicken Little was stopped suddenly by the expression of her Father's face. He tried to control himself but the laugh would come.

When they had finally got the atmosphere cleared a bit, he inquired, still smiling: "Well, are you sorry now you went to the Captain's?"

Chicken Little smiled back. "No, I'm just sorry I grieved Mother."

"Then suppose we vote this penance idea a failure and don't try it again."

The next few days were so full of the bustle of preparation that Jane soon forgot she had ever been sick. Further, there was a mystery on foot. She and Ernest had not been permitted to accept the Captain's invitation to dinner for reasons that Mrs. Morton explained with great care to that gentleman. But he had been invited over to dine with them.

He was so reserved and silent on this occasion that both Mrs. Morton and Marian wondered at Jane's devotion. After dinner he had a long conversation with Dr. Morton and Ernest, and no teasing on Jane's part could extract the faintest hint from either as to what it had been about.

"It was about your going to Annapolis, I bet."

"Nope, you're a long way off. We didn't say anything more than what you and Mother heard. Father's written to the Senator. Captain Clarke got him all enthused; the Captain promised to write, too. But you'll never guess the other, and it has something to do with you."

She had been obliged to give it up. Ernest had at length reached an age where he could keep a secret. The exasperating part of it was that Ernest was going over to Captain Clarke's every evening and she wasn't asked once. Her pride was so hurt that she came near being sorry she had gone to see the Captain.

The evening before the fateful twentieth, Mrs. Morton and Jane were putting the last touches on the guest room and on Chicken Little's own chamber, which Katy and Gertie were to share with her. The fresh fluted muslin curtains were looped back primly. The guest room had been freshly papered with a dainty floral design, in which corn flowers and wheat ears cl.u.s.tered with faint hued impossible blossoms, known only to designers. Both rooms looked fresh and cool and summery, and the windows opening out upon the garden and orchard revealed also wide stretches of the prairie beyond.

Chicken Little had re-arranged the furniture in her room at least six times in a resolute endeavor to get the best possible effect. Marian had given her a picture of some long stemmed pink roses that exactly matched the buds in her paper, and she had begged an old j.a.panese fan from her Mother. This was decorated with a remarkably healthy pink sunset on a gray green ground, and she tacked it up as a finis.h.i.+ng touch above the bed lounge, which was destined to be a bone of contention among the three little girls for the remainder of the summer. At first, not one of the three was willing to be cast upon this desert island of a bed, while the other two were whispering secrets in the big walnut four-poster. But as the weather grew hotter, the advantages of sleeping alone became more obvious, and they had to settle the matter by taking turns. Chicken Little did her very best to make her room look like the Captain's, but except for her Mother's concession of fresh white paint, a few books on a shelf, and the foreign fan, it was hard to detect any very marked resemblance. Nevertheless, both Jane and her Mother gazed upon their handiwork with deep satisfaction.

"If Annie will only stay through the summer," sighed Mrs. Morton, "she is doing so beautifully I'm afraid she is too good to last. But I mustn't borrow trouble. If she deserts me, our guests will simply have to turn in and help, much as I should dislike to have them."

Ernest came in to supper so excited he could scarcely eat. And Dr.

Morton seemed almost as interested as Ernest. They were both provokingly mysterious during the entire meal, talking over Jane's head in a way that was maddening.

"Does Mother know?" she demanded finally.

"Yes, Mother knows. I tell Mother when I go over to the Captain's."

"Come now, Ernest, that's been harped on enough," said Dr. Morton, then turning to Jane, "If you will hurry and get into your riding habit, you shall know the secret inside of an hour."

It is needless to say that Chicken Little hurried. The black brilliantine skirt fairly flew over her head, the border of shot in its hem rapping her rudely as it slid to the floor with a thud.

"Oh dear, I don't see why girls have to wear such long, silly skirts and ride sidewise. It's so much easier to ride man fas.h.i.+on."

Chicken Little had been permitted to ride man fas.h.i.+on since she had been on the ranch, for safety. But this year her Mother had decided she was too big to be playing the boy any longer, and had made her a woman's habit, in spite of the Doctor's protests. Jane was proud of the smart basque with its long tails and glittering rows of steel b.u.t.tons, but she loathed the skirt.

Hastily fastening the black velvet band with its dangling jet fringe below her stiff linen collar, she cast a parting glance at the oval mirror and skurried down the stairs, not stopping for such small matters as gloves or cap or even her beloved riding whip. Ordinarily, she would not have budged without the whip. It had been a Christmas present from Ernest and was her special pride. Her haste was in vain. After one look, her Mother sent her back for cap and gloves. "I do not wish my daughter riding around bareheaded like some half wild thing. I don't mind on the ranch, but when you go abroad I wish you to look like a lady."

Jane reluctantly obeyed and did not forget the whip this time. She had a fresh rebuff when she reached the road. Instead of the saddle horses she expected to see, Dr. Morton and Ernest were awaiting her in the spring wagon.

"Why, Father, I thought you said to put on my riding habit."

"Maybe I did. But never mind, jump in just as you are--it's getting a little late."

Chicken Little tried to hide her disappointment. She maintained a dignified silence until they had crossed the ford and Ernest turned the horses toward Captain Clarke's.

"Oh, it's at the Captain's."

Her Father nodded and began talking carelessly to Ernest about putting the orchard in clover another year. She saw there was no information to be had, until he was good and ready. Ernest took pity on her, however, just as they turned in the Captain's gate.

"In exactly six minutes you will see the surprise, even if you don't recognize it."

Chicken Little strained her eyes half expecting to see Katy or Gertie appear miraculously from nowhere. But they drove into the door yard without seeing anything or anybody that could possibly interest her.

The Captain was evidently watching for them. He helped her down from the high wagon in his most courtly manner.

"I am consumed with curiosity to know whether you have pried the secret from that brother of yours. I infer you have from your habit."

"Habit?" Jane glanced swiftly from her host's quizzical face to her father and Ernest. They were both smiling broadly.

"Oh, it has something to do with horses--but----"

She never finished the sentence for at that moment one of the Captain's hands appeared leading two Indian ponies, one a red and white piebald with a red blanket and side saddle; the other a black, with a blue blanket and a Mexican cowboy's equipment.

She stared at the horses and she stared at the Captain, not daring to even hope what had come into her mind. Captain Clarke took the bridle off the piebald and held down his hand for her foot.

"Up with you, I have persuaded your Father to share his children with me to the extent of letting me add something to your pleasure and that of your guests this summer. Ernest, however, has left me his debtor in advance, for he has not only finished breaking these in to the saddle but he has tamed the worst-tempered colt on the place as well."

Chicken Little was surprised to see Ernest flush up and stammer.

"Why I--I don't want any pay--I was glad to help out a neighbor."

"That's exactly what I am going to ask you to do, my boy, to help me out by letting me feel that I can still give somebody pleasure. The ponies are part of a large herd I bought in Texas and cost me very little. I have argued this all out with your Father and he understands my feeling.

Won't you be as generous?"

Before Ernest could answer, Chicken Little reached up both arms and gave the speaker a hug and a kiss that were warm enough to satisfy the loneliest heart. Before she had released him, Ernest had hold of his hand and was trying to make up by the vigor of his hand shake for the embarra.s.sing dumbness which had seized him.

Dr. Morton relieved the situation by remarking mischievously:

"Ask Ernest who's surprised now, Chicken Little?"

CHAPTER V

THE GUESTS ARRIVE

The Morton family were up early the next morning. Jane was in a state of p.r.i.c.kly excitement between her delight over her wonderful pony, all her very own, and the expected pleasure of seeing Katy and Gertie.

"If the others have grown as much as you kids, we shan't recognize them," said Frank.