"Goodness, children, you do look comfortable," Ruth announced, coming in the door at this minute, with her coat and hat heavy with rain. "Here, Jack, is a letter in Jim's handwriting. It is a pretty thick one, so I suppose he has written to say why he is letting you girls go away from home without coming to say good-by to you."
Ruth looked older and a little worn, but her expression was cold and reserved. She could not understand why Jim had hardly seen or spoken to her since their last long talk; it had never been a part of her plan not to be friends with him.
Slowly Jack read the first of her letter, while Frieda and Jean fairly danced with impatience and Olive stood with her arm about Carlos, who had crept in softly behind Ruth. The boy was to stay behind at the ranch with "The Big White Chief" he adored, yet he was solemn and desolate at the thought of the departure of the girls.
"Jim is desperately sorry, but he can't get here in time to see us start to-morrow," Jack read slowly. "Don't cry, Frieda. He sends you a dozen kisses and says you are to buy the biggest doll in New York as soon as you get there, as a present from him."
Frieda sniffed, her eyes brimming with tears. "Jim's silly; I'm too big for dolls," she answered, "and I just can't see why he don't come home!" She was about to break down and cry, but Jean knew this would mean the signal for them all to weep, so she stamped her foot indignantly. "Frieda Ralston, don't you dare shed a tear for Jim Colter or any other man," she commanded. "If Jim does not love us enough to want to say good-by to us then he can stay away. Come on, baby. I can smell hot gingerbread, so let's get some. Aunt Ellen thinks we are going to starve to death when we leave the Lodge. Perhaps we may have to eat solid gold food like poor King Midas, now that Rainbow Creek has given us the golden touch." Jean flitted from the room, holding Frieda's hand, and Olive and Carlos followed. When they had gone Ruth sat on the floor in front of the fire near Jack's couch, waiting while she finished her letter.
By and by Jack looked over at Ruth thoughtfully, and there was an expression in her gray eyes that made Ruth suddenly shield her face with her hand.
"Jim has written me everything, Ruth," Jack said. "Please don't be angry. He and I have been such pals since I was a little girl, and he didn't want me to go away thinking he had neglected me when I was ill. As though I would! Foolish old Jim! He has written me too about some wicked thing he did years and years ago. Now he thinks maybe he ought to have told me before, because I might not have wished him to run the ranch and to take care of our money if I had known." Jack was smiling, though the tears were running down her cheeks. "And the last thing he writes is—that he won't be hurt if I get a man to superintend his work and to look over his accounts. Of course Jim is willing to continue to work for us almost for nothing; but now that we are going to be so rich he thinks we might like a guardian with a different history." Jack choked in her effort to pretend indignation. "As though anything Jim Colter ever did in the past keeps him from being the most splendid and unselfish person in the whole world now!" she ended loyally with a look of utter bewilderment at her companion.
Ruth leaned so near the fire that her cheeks flushed and her eyes shone from the heat of the glowing ashes. "Do you really feel that way about Jim, dear?" she questioned wonderingly. "I can't understand it."
"I can't understand feeling any other way, Ruth," Jack answered. "But I know people look at things differently. And Jim said I was never to speak of this to you or to try to influence you in any way—so please forgive me; I never will again."
Ruth made no reply and was unchanged in her determination, although her heart was heavy with the thought of turning her back on the Rainbow Ranch and all the wonderful things it had meant to her. They were to return she knew not when. Silently she slipped away, and Jack Ralston was left alone in the firelight. Her eyes were soon closed, and in a little while she must have been dreaming, for some one touched her and a familiar voice said with a slow drawl: "How you feeling, boss?"