"I didn't hear anything more," Frank answered. "I marched into their study and told Mr. Norton and Dan exactly what I thought of them. Then Dan and I got to using some language and we rather broke up the furniture for a while. Of course I can't stay in the house of a man whom I know to be a rogue. But will you tell your overseer, Mr. Colter, that I won't get too far out of this neighborhood to appear when your suit about the ownership of Rainbow Ranch comes into court." Frank looked around for his hat. "I hope you will have a very happy Christmas," he said. He held himself so erect, with a dignity of grace and breeding such as Jack had rarely seen. Before Jack realized what was happening, Frank was out of the room.
For the second time in their acquaintance, she ran after him. This time she put her hand on his and fairly dragged him back with her.
"Oh, please, please don't go. You must stay and have Christmas at the Lodge with us," Jack entreated. "We have plenty of room and we would so love to have you. Do wait here until I go and find Cousin Ruth, I know she will be more apt to persuade you to stay."
Needless to say, Cousin Ruth was successful and at eight o'clock, the ranch girls, Cousin Ruth, Frank Kent, Jim Colter, Aunt Ellen, Uncle Zack, and six bashful cowboys were gathered about the mammoth Christmas tree.
Frieda was to light the candles. She looked like a plump little German fairy in her new white frock, with her long braids of flaxen hair.
But Frieda could not reach up to the tall candles on the big tree and she would not allow either Jim or Frank to lift her up.
On the largest chair in the room, Frieda could tiptoe up to almost the tallest row of candles. But just under a little wax figure of the Virgin and the Christ Child, Jean had set seven in a circle. These were the topmost glory of the tree and Frieda's crowning ambition and were the only candles she could not possibly reach from her chair.
The little Christmas-eve girl slipped onto the floor, and before any of the men in the room guessed what she was after, dragged out from the book shelves an immense old law book, bound in worn brown leather. Frieda started gallantly across the room with it. But it dropped from her small hands and scattered yellow parchment leaves over the floor. The back of the book ripped off and Frieda held only the leather cover. Out of this, from a kind of inner pocket, a folded sheet of paper fluttered and fell at Frieda's feet.
The company crowded to the rescue. Blonde heads and brown heads bumped into each other in picking up the leaves. Frieda started to the fire with the old book cover and the folded paper. She gave them both a toss toward the flames, but the paper fluttered back to her feet.
Frieda laughed and picked it up again. "This paper won't be burned up, Jack," she exclaimed. "Let's light it in the Christmas candles."