We’ll give it a friendly rub,—”
“Rub?” queried Ruth.
“I want it to rhyme with club. Now, you’ve knocked it all out of my head, and it’s so hard for me to get an inspiration.” Ted retired into a melancholy reverie, and kept repeating under her breath, “Rub-tub-club-dub-hub.”
“Time to go, girls,” Jean said. “Wait a minute. Let’s gather some wild flowers, and put in a tumbler on old Zed’s table.”
It was a beautiful tribute they left to the old man’s memory, wild roses, and ferns, and wild convolvulus mingling with the rich dark green of spruce boughs over the mantel. The only sounds in the gulch were the songs of birds, and the falling water. It was so beautiful and quiet, the girls could hardly bear to break the charm by leaving, but the sun was slipping westward, and it was a long trip back.
“We’ll ride over to the ranch to-morrow, and tell the Chief,” said Jean, and on that promise they went back, each in her own way building a day-dream out of the bones of the gulch treasure.
CHAPTER XIX
“MRS. SANDY”
Mrs. Murray did not think it wise to take the long ride the following day.
“Better rest up a wee bit, or you’ll be tired out before you’ve played,” she told them. “Jeanie had better get out the tent, and see if it needs any mending, if you’re going camping. I think there’s a rent on one side.”