Mr. Maynard had been wired that his daughter and others in her party were to arrive in Chicago on the noon train, and the moment they stepped from the car, he was seen to be awaiting them. In another moment, Eleanor was being smothered against a broad, fatherly breast, and the other friends were smiling sympathetically at Mr. Maynard’s joy.
“Well, well, well! Where is my little tom-boy? I here behold a tall, up-to-date young woman, whom I almost dread to hug,” exclaimed Mr. Maynard, holding Eleanor off at arm’s length.
“Nothing of the kind!” retorted Eleanor, making a dive and throwing both arms about her father’s neck. “If you have any compunction about hugging in public, your daughter hasn’t!”
“I can verify that, Mr. Maynard,” added Mr. Dalken, smiling, to hide his own feelings as he thought of his daughter, Elizabeth, and her habitual aversion to him and his affection. “We find it very embarrassing, at times, to control Nolla’s desire to hang about our dignified necks.”
“Pooh!” was all the answer vouchsafed him. But Mr. Maynard laughed happily—he would have laughed at any silly thing, so glad was he to have his pet with him again.
The days in Chicago passed swiftly by for those who were to continue on their way to Pebbly Pit. Mr. Maynard gave every moment of his time to his guests,—they had been induced to accept his hospitality, instead of going to a hotel,—and Mr. Dalken found ample time in which to discuss finance with Mr. Fuzzier and the select group of bankers he had interested in his plans to develop the interior of Colombia. Mr. Maynard had already heard the inside information of the scheme, and he had signed up to join the speculators in this vast undertaking.
Finally came the day when Eleanor said good-by to her parents and friends again, and the eager members of Mr. Dalken’s party started on their way to Pebbly Pit.
How familiar seemed the prairie lands to Polly, as the train steamed across the vast plains, and began to approach Denver! Then came a hasty change from the Chicago Express to the local for Oak Creek, and at last the travelers were on the final ride of that journey to Polly’s ranch-home.
More than a year had passed since Polly had visited the mining settlement, where the train stopped to accommodate passengers for and from the surrounding country-side. And in that year great progress had been made in the growth and improvement of the place. Polly was astonished to see the mushroomlike rapidity with which the two-story houses had replaced the shacks of the old town; and now streets were laid out and lighted for the convenience of towns-folk, as well as for the ranchers.
The Brewsters had come in full force to welcome the expected friends, and joyous were the shouts of the young people, when all were gathered upon the railway platform. In fact, so eager seemed every one in that circle that no one paid heed to what the others said—but each one laughed and talked effusively without regard to subject.