“But, Ma, the Pullman porter will look after the luggage,” was Dodo’s reminder.
“Not mine! thank you. I wouldn’t allow one of those strangers to handle one of my bags. In this desert land, I could never replace my cosmetics and toilet articles. Algy loves to oblige me, so why disappoint him?” was Mrs. Alexander’s tart reply.
Algy said nothing, but he gathered the bags in both feeble hands as well as he could. Then Jack, taking pity on his futile efforts to hold them all, waited for Mrs. Alexander to march off towards the door, before he tied the seven leather bags together with an end of rope which the porter had handed him. Thus Algy could swing them over his back, but it was a heavy load for one so slender and limp.
“Oh, Jack! Why don’t you carry some of them?” asked Eleanor.
“Why should I? I’m paying the Pullman porter to take all the luggage, and now that Algy is so easy that he does whatever Mrs. Alex. asks of him, let him obey. I am not that kind.”
“But he looks as though he might break in half,” laughed Polly.
“May be a good turn for him—put some bone and brawn into his frame,” chuckled Jack, watching Mrs. Alex.’s obedient follower toddle along the platform at the heels of the owner of the bags.
As the cabs carried the tourists to the leading hotel of Santa Fé, the girls were interested in looking at the interesting sights of the old Spanish city. Jack knew no more about the points of interest than they did, but he pretended to do so, and he drew their attention to the plaza—not easily mistaken for anything else; and he told them a certain old church was the Cathedral of San Francisco, when it really was the Church of San Miguel—but the girls did not find this error out until later.
That first day was spent in visiting the quaint old city and its ancient buildings and the new museum and art gallery. Then the second day was devoted to an auto trip along the scenic road of the Pecos River, through the forests of the Pecos, as far as the forest rangers’ headquarters at Panchuela. That evening they stopped at Bishop’s Lodge for supper, and drove back to Santa Fé in the clear moonlight.
They had preferred driving in a large seven-passenger car, instead of using two smaller autos, and the young folks felt merry and high-spirited as they crowded into their seats upon leaving the Lodge. Soon after they started along the fine highway to Santa Fé, Jack began to hum a popular air, and soon the three girls were singing the words. Algy listened, but he never opened his lips, and the expression upon his face seemed to say that he disapproved of jazz-time songs.