Virginia's Ranch Neighbors

by Grace May North

Virginia put her arm about Margaret and drew her down to the sunny window-seat, as she replied: “Mother often told me that we ought to let our lives blossom as a flower unfolds, just peacefully and trustingly, enjoying the song of a bird, and the warmth of the sun and whatever beauty is near us. Many people try to force their life blossoms open and are so continually reaching for something beyond, that they never really enjoy the loveliness that is near them and so they become worried and weary. Every morning I ask myself: ‘What happiness can I find and give today in the place where I am? That keeps me contented and happy.” Then springing up, she laughingly added: “Yum! Doesn’t the pie smell good? I do hope everyone will be here in time for lunch.” But it was long after the lunch hour before Betsy and Trujillo returned.

In the meantime Betsy and Trujillo had reached the sand hills and were standing in front of the three crosses. Trujillo glanced into the cave beyond the shrine. Little did his companion know that in the darkness there was a newly made grave.

At Betsy’s suggestion he began at once to dig beneath the middle cross. The pick was needed to break the sand stone, but suddenly it struck something that did not break. One corner of an iron box was revealed, which however, was so firmly imbedded in the rock that it took a long time to entirely free it. Betsy, after the first exultant exclamation, had stood silently watching.

How she did hope that this box contained the land grant document that the mother and sister of Trujillo might have their home restored to them.

When at last the box was freed, they both knelt beside it to see if the key hole was as queerly shaped as was the key that the mother of Trujillo had given him. When they found that it fitted exactly, Betsy’s joy could no longer be restrained, and leaping up, she clapped her hands and uttered varied exclamations of delight.

Trujillo glanced at her with a happy smile. “Senorita,” he said, “before I open this box, I want you to promise me something. If the papers are here, and if our home is restored, will you and your friends come some day, and visit us? My mother and my sister Carmelita will welcome you gladly.”

Then the key turned and the box was opened. There was a glad cry from the girl who had been watching breathlessly, for there lay a packet of yellowing papers. Placing them in his pocket, the Spanish lad rose and held out his hand to his flushed and excited companion. “Senorita Betsy,” he said, his melodious voice tense with feeling, “I thank you for your interest and my mother and sister will want to thank you when, with your friends, you can visit us.”

Then leaving the heavy iron box in the sand by the crosses, these two rode back to the ranch house to tell the others that, at last, the long lost papers had been found.

There lay a packet of yellowing papers.