The aromatic smell of coffee and bacon filled Bess’ nostrils as she awoke to a glorious morning. At first she looked about in wonderment, trying to think where she was. With the sudden realization she sprang out of the snug bed, and going to the open window, filled her lungs with deep draughts of pure, mountain air. It did not take her many minutes to dress and place her belongings in the trunk, which she fastened so it would be all ready and cause no delay. One of her habits was punctuality, and she never felt that she had a right to infringe upon the time of others by keeping them waiting. She came downstairs, and going into the sitting-room to see if her brother was there, was greeted by a cheery “good-morning” from Mrs. Strong.
“Breakfast is nearly ready, Miss Fletcher. The boys are out getting the horses ready and putting the trunks on the stage.”
Just then they came upon the porch, and Bess hastened forward with pleasant greetings. “James, your cheeks are getting tanned already.” Turning to Henry West, she continued, “You are certainly good medicine to have such a marked effect upon my brother so soon.”
“I have never aspired to the dignity of the Medicine-man, Miss Fletcher, but with your permission I shall certainly consider the matter,” he replied facetiously.
The flush of shyness mounted to her cheeks. “Really, Mr. West, you—I—I did not mean it in that way,” she said, trying to cover her confusion.
He felt sorry for her and assured her that she might say anything she wished concerning the Indians, as neither his mother nor himself were at all sensitive on the subject.
However, Bess was greatly relieved when just then Mabel Strong came to announce breakfast. Again their appetites seemed abnormal, and the rainbow trout, caught not an hour before in the stream which skirted the mountains, together with the delicious muffins, bacon and eggs, golden-browned potatoes and coffee, disappeared as if by magic.
Henry West ate sparingly, and watched James with gratification as he enjoyed his meal. “Jim, old boy,” he said, in his low, softly modulated voice, “you’ll be ready for the June round-up if you keep up that clip at grub.”
“How about me, Mr. West?” asked Bess, as she helped herself to the third muffin and the second egg.