But no praise of her brother seemed to the listener to be more than he deserved. Seating herself on the window seat, she took from a basket, (which had been made in the Indian village), a pretty gold brown dress. Holding it up, she asked: “Megsy, don’t you think this especially suits little Sari? There’s a glint of gold in that brown hair of hers and I’m not at all sure but that there is in her thoughtful eyes as well.” Her companion nodded. “I’m glad I have outgrown this rose colored muslin,” Margaret added. “Janey will just love it, and she’ll look like a little wild rose-bud in it. I think she’s the sweetest child, and Oh Virg, now since that nice Gordon Traylor helped Mr. Wallace to perfect his water locating device that forlorn family in Hog Canon won’t be so poor, will they?”
But Virginia shook her head as though she were not at all sure that immediate prosperity would follow. “Of course they have water now on their place, but water won’t buy cattle, nor food, nor clothes. I fear that prosperity is still far removed. Unless,” Virg had dropped her sewing on her lap and was gazing thoughtfully out of the window, “unless Mr. Wallace can induce some rich men to be pardners with him. Without capital, he cannot make his invention of much value to him.”
“Hark, what’s all the shouting?” Margaret looked up to inquire. “It sounds like wild Indians let loose. Isn’t it a shame, whatever it is, for it surely will waken Malcolm and we did so want him to sleep.”
Virginia had leaped to the door to see who was coming. “Oh, good,” she cried. “It’s Babs and Betsy and Peyton no less. Of course they don’t know about brother and so would not think of being quiet.”
Skipping out on the wide veranda, Megsy and Virg waved to the three who were galloping down the mesa trail, but they had ceased their shouting, having correctly interpreted Virg’s signal when she put her fingers to her lips.
“Is anyone sick?” Barbara inquired as she dismounted and gave the mistress of V. M. a girlish hug.
The other two listened anxiously. “Yes, that is, not exactly sick, but I’ll tell you all about it when you come in. There’s Patsy Mahoy.” The small Irish boy came on a run when Virg beckoned, and he was proud indeed when she asked him to take the three ponies to the corral. “Now we’ll go in and I’ll tell you what has happened. My, Betsy, you and Babs look flushed and warm. It’s pretty hot riding so far in the sun. Sit down, everybody, and I’ll go to our cooling cellar and bring up some nice lemonade that Megsy and I made only an hour ago, thinking that brother might like some every now and then.”
“Let me get it,” Margaret was on her feet as she spoke. “You can tell the story of the mine much better than I can.” And so Virg took the chair her adopted sister had vacated and told to anxious listeners how, when she and Margaret had returned from the Three Cross Ranch, there had been no one at all at V. M. Then from poor frightened Mrs. Mahoy they had learned of the cave-in over at the mine.
“Oh Virg!” Babs cried in alarm. “Your brother wasn’t hurt, was he?”
“No, thank heaven, not really hurt,” the girl replied with fervent gratitude, “but he was buried in that smothering place for several hours. Uncle Tex thinks there must have been an air current somewhere, or Malcolm could not have lived until they blasted.”