“Lem, do you think you can run San Leon without me for a few days?”
Captain saluted his “chief” and replied, a trifle testily: “That’s what I have been doin’ for a purty consid’able spell, ain’t it, Boss?”
“Yes, but you hadn’t eight youngsters on your hands then, to keep happy and out of mischief. Boys you know, Lem—”
“I know. I’ve been one. Wish ’t I was again. What’s up, Boss?”
The girls had followed the Captain, slowly, and eagerly discussing Jim’s message—if it was such—and its probable meaning; but they paused at a little distance, not wishing to interrupt the men’s interview which, from the expression of their faces, was a serious one.
But Mr. Ford saw them and beckoned them to come up; and then explained to them as well as to the old ranchman:
“We have had telegrams that call us east. Away east, as far as New York. I feel that we must leave you young folks—for a few days—as few as we can possibly make them. It isn’t business or I’d depute somebody else to act for me. It’s this: A wireless dispatch has been received that a very old lady, an aunt of Erminie’s, will arrive in that city on the steamer which is due in just three days. She has lived abroad for many years and is now very feeble, helpless, in fact, from paralysis or something of that nature. She brought Erminie up and has been the best and truest friend my wife ever had. We owe her everything, and feel that we cannot leave her to land in a strange city, broken in mind and body, without her ‘daughter’ to care for her. We must go, for I don’t want Lady Gray to take the trip and responsibility without me. If all goes well, we should be back in less than a fortnight—could be much sooner except that Lady Gray wants to bring Aunt Rachel to San Leon; and we will have to make the return journey by very easy stages, as her strength will allow. It is trying, too, that, having learned of our trip east, Miss Milliken insists upon returning with us. She hasn’t been happy here and I find she’s worrying about her heart. The altitude of San Leon is bad for her, she thinks, and since she puts it on that ground neither Erminie nor I can urge her to remain. But—”
“‘But,’ don’t you worry a minute, dear Uncle Dan!” cried Dorothy, clasping her hands around his arm and using the title he had asked for many times, though she had rarely done so before. All along, despite his great generosity and kindness, she had stood just a little in awe of the “Railroad Boss,” and he had been simply “Mr. Ford” to her as well as to all his other young guests. But it needed only one look of anxiety on his noble face to rouse all her loving sympathy. She repeated: “Don’t you, nor sweet Lady Gray, worry one single minute about us or things up here at San Leon. We’ll be as good as good! Helena, here, is a better caretaker than poor Miss Milly. Between ourselves, we’re glad she’s going. She’s been a burden to Nell, all the time, instead of a help. I’m sorry about her heart but—I’m glad she’s going. Now—when do you start? Isn’t there something I—we—can do to help you off? Do let us help!”
The gentleman’s face had lightened. His girl guests had accepted the situation beautifully, and he could but hope as much for the lads. In any case he must go; and, indeed, at once. He was so pressed for time that they disliked to trouble him with the message the lamb had brought, and watched him walk swiftly away without a further word.
“Huh! He needn’t be afraid we’ll do anything we oughtn’t! And I don’t see as we’re going to be so much alone, after all. There’s the trained nurse, and though the doctor’s gone to Denver he’ll come back.”