Polly of Pebbly Pit Part 9

"Then those two girls are my company," groaned the rancher, causing a scramble at his words. The cow-punchers whipped off their hats to salute and the miners shuffled behind the daring cow-boys, the better to hide their faces from the "Boss."

Mr. Brewster hurried over to rea.s.sure the girls that the whole fight had been staged to entertain them. He explained the cause of his not being on hand to meet them, and waving his hand for the cow-boys, he called:

"Get busy, boys! Shake those trunks into the wagon."

While the men eagerly lent shoulders and muscles to the task expected of them, the three princ.i.p.als in this group made personal notes of each other, albeit not a word was said.

"Ah never did see such ridiculous styles as this!" thought Sam Brewster, looking the girls over from top to toe.

"This rough man Mr. Brewster! Why, he's a common farmer!" thought Barbara, disdainfully.

"I bet Polly's father's a heap of fun!" thought Eleanor.

When Mr. Brewster realized there were _seven_ great trunks belonging to two girls, he groaned within himself, wondering what in the world could be found to fill so many!

The men were handed cigars, and as they doffed their hats to say "Thank you-all" they backed away to permit the Boss to help the girls up the high wagon-side.

Barbara looked at the rough stained hands and said insultingly: "No, thank you!"

"Here--let me jump up and pull you in," laughed Eleanor, uncomfortably, seeing that her sister had offended their host.

Sam Brewster turned to give his horses a pail of water while the two girls attempted to climb up. But the small steel foot-rest was too high to be reached without a boost from below, so they had to climb, hand over hand, up the great wheel with its spokes clogged with the heavy mud from the trails.

When they were finally seated, both girls looked at each other. Fresh natty traveling suits were streaked by the mud, and their gloves--soft chamois-skins--could now be thrown away. Even their faces had been smeared with mud when they slipped and had to clutch at any possible rescue. Naturally, they were not in too amiable a frame of mind for what awaited them at the end of the trip.

The high spring-seat was the only one, so Barbara had to sit there. "I simply cannot hold on to this sky-sc.r.a.per!" complained she testily.

"It's the only one, Bob, so you will _have_ to!" replied Eleanor.

In another moment, Mr. Brewster climbed up easily and sat beside the strangers. He churked to the horses and drove away in a manner that threatened to hurl the city girls from their earthly perch into kingdom come.

"Oh, this is terrible!" groaned Barbara, at an unusually hard b.u.mp of the wagon over a rutty road.

"Maybe we can sit down on the floor of the wagon where the trunks are?"

ventured Eleanor, looking at Mr. Brewster.

"Sh.o.r.e--if you-all want to. The senseless trunks make better company than a rough old farmer," replied Mr. Brewster, without the least suspicion of malice in the words.

The exchange was made and the girls felt protected by the trunks, so they could take a livelier interest in the ride. As they left the road leading from Oak Creek, the sight of imposing mountains towering in the distance thrilled them in spite of their determination to dislike everything they saw. And the gorgeous hues and beauty of the strange wild-flowers caused exclamations from Eleanor, while Barbara gasped at the vast herds of cattle, grazing, as they roamed over the plains.

Finally Mr. Brewster guided the horses away from the wide trail, into the Bear Forks trail that wound in and out, now on the brink of the river's chasm, or again between jagged cliffs. Anon the awed girls gazed down into fearful depths as the wagon skirted the dangerous brink, or craned their necks to look at the wonderful vines and foliage hanging from the tops of ma.s.sive rocks. By the time they reached the ridge of foot-hills where the trail led off to the cliffs at the Devil's Grave, both sisters were silenced by the impressive scenery, so that petty problems of puny mortals faded into a misty back-ground.

Suddenly the trail turned around a group of great rocks and the first glimpse of Rainbow Cliffs could be seen. As the wagon drew nigh the gorge running through the cliffs, Anne Stewart and Polly were found waiting for the visitors.

Anne introduced Polly, and Eleanor acknowledged the courtesy, but Barbara rudely failed to notice it as she was so obsessed with the desire to complain about the railroad, the natives of Oak Creek, the trails to Pebbly Pit, and everything connected with the coming.

Polly felt dreadfully shy with such unusual-looking girls. Not that their hats had feathers or fine flowers, nor their suits had any expensive tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs on them, to suggest wealth, but the way they _looked_ in their clothes! What made the difference, she wondered. Had Anne told her the actual cost of those hats and suits, poor Polly would have fainted from shock.

Barbara was holding forth on her wrongs. "I can't see for the life of me, Anne, why you selected such an outlandish spot as this, for us, in which to waste a precious summer. Why, it is simply _unbearable_--nothing but mountains and trails in sight! And no one but just farmers to a.s.sociate with! Oh, oh!" The accent on "farmers" made Polly wince and Eleanor frown, at the speaker. Anne hastened to change the subject for she feared Mr. Brewster might turn his horses and take them all back to Oak Creek station.

It was a duel of dialogue between Anne and Barbara after that, each one trying to keep up a conversation they wished to down the other with.

Thus the wagon reached the porch.

Polly sprang out and ran indoors unnoticed by any one. Eleanor was deeply interested in gazing out at the great crater bowl that formed the pasture and farm-lands of Pebbly Pit. Anne was anxious to have her charges make a good impression on Mrs. Brewster and so she jumped out and held a hand to a.s.sist Barbara.

The lady of the house stood waiting to welcome the girls, when Sary ran out from the kitchen, hurriedly drying her wet hands on an ap.r.o.n. She fully expected to shake hands with the fine ladies, when her turn came to be introduced. She stood directly back of her mistress peering eagerly at the new-comers in their simple straw hats, severe cloth suits, and shoes, gloves, and veils of the finest.

Before Anne Stewart could open her lips to introduce the girls, Barbara sent a scornful glance over the group and then at the ranch-house, and said: "What a barracks! It's nothing more than a log cabin on a gigantic scale."

"Oh, I think it is great! Just like the wonderful cabins we read about in the Adirondacks, or other large camp-sites," quickly added Eleanor.

"But this is not a camp, my poor little sister! And we haven't the same set either, as we would have had at a fas.h.i.+onable camp," sneered Barbara.

"You needn't 'poor me,' Bob! I'm just crazy over the farm and--and everything. Hurry up, Anne, and introduce me so I can get acquainted,"

cried Eleanor, nudging the teacher to remind her of her duty.

Mr. Brewster had driven the team to a post a little farther up the road, and was not present when the introductions took place. Mrs.

Brewster summoned a pleasant smile for Barbara, and a motherly pat on the shoulder for Eleanor. Then Sary stepped forward to be introduced, as it was customary for her to be treated as a member of the family.

"Glad t' know you-all!" simpered Sary, bowing stiffly and offering her reddened hand to shake the gloved ones of the girls.

Barbara completely ignored the par-boiled digits and slightly lifted one eyebrow at Sary. Eleanor felt so humiliated at her sister's actions that she came forward to make amends but Sary would have none of it.

When Barbara gave her a frozen look, Sary examined her hands for a moment, then humped her shoulders and stamped back to the kitchen-range where she had been boiling soap-fat and straining out the sc.u.m before the arrival of the city misses.

"Anne, would your friends like to refresh themselves in the bedroom?"

asked Mrs. Brewster to break the embarra.s.sed silence.

"Oh, yes, of course!" replied Anne, anxiously turning to Barbara.

Eleanor took the initiative of going toward the door. "I never saw such a darling bungalow! I just love everything spread out on the ground floor. No stairs and no elevators--Oh, how nice!"

"It is a change from your brown-stone mansions, isn't it?" replied Mrs.

Brewster, smiling at the concerned face.

"To me it is the most awful place! I don't suppose you have baths, or electric light, or telephone service?" said Barbara.

"Now you see here, Barbara Maynard! You've got to stop this whimpering or I'll wire Daddy to make you go home! I just won't have my whole summer spoiled by your complaints!" cried Eleanor, angrily, and stamping her foot to emphasize her words.

"I hope you didn't expect me to _stay_ here, did you?" demanded Barbara.

"I hope you won't--that's all I've got to say! Come on, Anne, and show me the place. Where's Polly gone?" said Eleanor.

Polly was found in the large living-room, looking the picture of disappointment. Anne understood how she must have felt, so she diverted the attention of the newcomers to the great yawning fire-place that could hold several tree-trunks at one time.

"And do you know, Nolla, every bit of wood in this house was hewn and carted here by Mr. Brewster? You see the government allows settlers just so much timber with which to construct a home and barns. There is a county sawmill to saw and trim logs and then the owner has to cart them himself. Naturally, one hasn't time to carve fancy _ideals_ in the wood one uses for the house. And having it sent from Denver, or other large cities where labor is to be had, is also out of the question. The freight costs, and the long haul from Oak Creek to the Pit presents difficulties not to be overcome. So folks build homes as solid and strong as they can, and leave the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs for a future generation."

Anne explained all this for Barbara's benefit, and Mrs. Brewster smiled her grat.i.tude to the girl.

Eleanor seemed more impressed than ever after she heard of the time and labor it must have taken to construct such a house as the Brewster ranch boasted; and Barbara was taken back, as she had not thought of such things, but she pretended not to care.