JULIE’S TÊTE-À-TÊTE

The distance to the Jemez Forests was about twenty miles over sandy roads. The trail led across the Rio Grande and then climbed up and up. Finally it became apparent that, later, the autos would have to be parked if the scouts wished to visit the “City of the Dead” as they had outlined, so the cars stopped while all planned.

“Now what? Walk up that awful trail and haul the kitchen on our backs?” cried Julie, frowning up at the great layers of shelf which seemed to reach to the heavens.

“No,” giggled Joan, “we’ll leave the ‘kitchen sink’ in the car, but take everything else.”

“We can drive up much farther than this,” said Mr. Vernon. “The trail winds and winds and at last brings us to the mesa where we will lunch. There we will leave Tally to hunt up a suitable cave for his afternoon siesta, while we climb to the sky.”

Finally the cars came out upon a high mesa—perhaps, thousand of acres of park, all shaded by yellow pine.

Upon this wonderful tableland the scouts had lunch and then went on to Frijoles CaÑon. When, finally, they came to the end of a road—they had arrived!

After a time the visitors sighed, and, having broken the spell of awe, the scouts found their tongues.

“Gracious! what a jumping-off place,” exclaimed Julie, as she gazed at the two fearful precipices, the sides all pierced with windows and arched doorways and projecting balconies.

These dwellings, tier upon tier of them, were reached by ladders, and some by steps cut in the stone. It was once a populous city with the main street over twelve miles long.

“Think of all the citizens living in this queer place!” exclaimed the Captain. “Where do you suppose they went after they left here.”

“That’s the question every one asks, and no one has yet answered,” returned Mr. Gilroy. “But come, let’s go down and visit.”

The scouts visited the sacred chamber where the ancients worshiped the god of fire and the serpent-guardian of the water-springs. They took snapshots of the stone circle which the great colony used for its dances. They went in cave after cave, each one having a new interest to visitors, and coming out again, wondered at the marvelous view forever spread out before the front doors of these cliff dwellers of ancient days.

That day the scouts found several flowers which have not been classified by botanists. They saw the blood-red cactus that grows high up on the black rocks; the beautiful mountain pink; the dwarfed field daisy; and others without names, although they were gathered to be pressed for use in the girls’ books. It was late that night when the party motored into Santa FÉ, but it was a satisfied party.

A week of visiting such marvelous places as these girls never dreamed were on earth passed quickly. They had gone to different prominent pueblos within easy motoring distance of Santa FÉ; they had visited the Tiffany Turquoise Mine; they wondered at the old Bonanza; they hunted for bits of gold in the Ortiz placers; and they collected specimen of flowers, minerals, insects and other curios for their scout files at home. Then they took two days to go to the ancient Aztec City, to Chaco CaÑon, and other pueblo ruins in San Juan county.

“The last trip of all, I have kept as the best,” remarked Mr. Gilroy at the end of the week’s rental of the automobiles. “But we will leave Santa FÉ behind us when we start out on this jaunt to the west: I am speaking of a visit to the Enchanted Mesa, to Laguna and Acoma.”

“It’s going to be no joke to reach Acoma, Gilly,” said Mr. Vernon, “but we have plenty of time, and that is one asset in seeing these strange places.”

“When do we start from here, Gilly?” asked Joan, eagerly.

“Well, that depends. I expected to meet a few friends in Santa FÉ to-morrow, and I shall have to wait for them. They should have been here to-day, but I hear they were delayed in Denver by one of the party who had important business to attend to in that city. To-morrow they will surely meet me, then I shall be free to go west with you.”

Not one of the scouts suspected who the friends might be, so they took it for granted that Gilly had business men to meet; but they planned with Mrs. Vernon what to do in the morning, while Mr. Gilroy met his friends from Denver.

To the delight of the girls, the four young men and Mr. Vernon were at breakfast in the morning, when they entered the dining-room. The Ranger instantly sprang up and welcomed the party.

“I suppose you are all on the qui vive this morning, eh?” asked Mr. Burt, smilingly.

Mrs. Vernon hurriedly endeavored to signal him to keep the secret, but the newspaper man did not see.

“We’re trying to kill a morning with nothing to do,” laughed Julie.

“Oh! then you are not going to the station to meet the train that will bring your chums?” was Mr. Burt’s surprised query.

“To meet whom?” demanded the scouts.

Mr. Burt glanced from one to the other, and finally met the glance from Mr. Vernon. Too late, he realized that the plan had been to take these four scouts by surprise.

Julie laughed uproariously, then tried to say: “Isn’t it always thus when so many know of the surprise party? There’s bound to be one who lets the cat out of the bag.”

By this time the other girls began to realize what it all meant and then there was a great hullabaloo.

“Hurry now, and we will go after Gilly to accompany him to the station,” laughed Mrs. Vernon. No need for such advice, however, as the scouts were well-nigh choking themselves in their haste to eat and be off.

As the time on the automobiles would not expire till one o’clock that day, the scouts inveigled the men to drive them to the railroad station. Such a scene when the train came in! Anne, Judith and Amy jumped off into outstretched arms, and were welcomed by wagging tongues all talking and questioning at once. No one heard or understood a word any one else was saying, but that made no difference to these scouts!

Then the newcomers had to tell in detail how it was possible to persuade Mrs. Ward to let Amy leave home, and many a merry peal of laughter echoed in the ancient streets of Santa FÉ as the scouts, all wedged into the automobile, were driven out to the little hotel.

“To tell the truth, it was Julie’s graphic articles in the Elmertown Record that changed Mrs. Ward’s opinion of the west. Every one said it was so wonderful for the girls to have such an opportunity that she felt ashamed of herself,” explained Anne Bailey.

Then the secret of Julie’s journalism came out and her friends applauded loudly when they heard of her success. After a good dinner, shortly before noon, Tally led the horses to the piazza, and Mr. Gilroy said it was time to be off on the trail to the westward. Adair and Chase expected to ride the trail to Las Vegas, but changed their minds when they heard Sandy and Burt plan.

“How about horses for the three girls,” asked Joan, as they all started for the door.

“All ready! Tally had orders long ago, and they arrived this morning,” said Mr. Vernon.

To the great satisfaction of the scouts it was now learned that the four young men had decided to ride with them through the marvelous country west of Santa FÉ, where the ZuÑi Indians and all the remarkable pueblos would be found.

The entire party rode along the Rio Grande trail as far as Albuquerque, camping in the wayside woods, or stopping at the towns on the way, as best suited their inclinations.

Albuquerque proved to be just the opposite of Santa FÉ. There the very air seemed filled with mysterious spirits of the ancients; here in Albuquerque, with its strictly up-to-date activities, the girls felt as though they were back east. The buildings of the University of New Mexico, where Sanderson had been graduated that year, situated upon a plateau more than two hundred feet above the city, was one of the places to be visited by the tourists. The view from that height is beautiful, and the impressions of the city when seen from here, is lasting.

The scouts stopped at the Alvarado Hotel, a luxurious place with every modern convenience, though its style of architecture is Old Spanish Mission. From its verandas the girls could see the peaks of New Mexico as they sent up their snowy tips to the azure sky.

Being the season when tourists crowded the city, the scouts found things very lively with dances and plays and drives day and night. They went to the Musee, to the fashionable restaurants, and forgot they were in the land of the pueblos.

“Lucky we each packed a decent gown for such an occasion,” remarked Julie, as they all sat in the brilliant dining-room of the Alvarado and watched the well-dressed guests, some of whom were dancing to the music of the palm-screened orchestra.

During the trailing from Santa FÉ, Sandy had devoted so much time to the Pueblo matter and Burt’s articles that Julie believed him to have been merely flirting with her before this, so now she snubbed him. But the Ranger never thought of flirting. He was genuinely attracted by the pretty, intelligent scout. With him, however, duty came before pleasure, and he had considered it his duty to attend to the various missions upon which he had been sent in company with Burt. Hence he had not indulged his fancy as he would have liked. Now that he had accomplished most of the work of escorting the newspaper man to the pueblos and assisting him in getting facts first-hand from the Indian chiefs, he relaxed the tension as he pictured the pleasure before him. He never dreamed that a girl might become piqued at being left without a word or glance from him, while he was occupied with getting statistics. But he was to learn that feminine demands are not to be ignored if the admirer wishes to be popular.

To the three scouts who had recently arrived, everything was new and novel, and the Ranger, to them, seemed very handsome and agreeable. They therefore chided Julie for her manner towards him, because it was plainly to be seen that he cared nothing for any one in the party but her.

“Go entertain him yourself, why don’t you?” she would retort. “I’m busy getting points on journalism from Mr. Burt.”

But this was merely an excuse, as Mr. Burt had been engaged with Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon, telling them of his hopes in securing justice for the Indians.

It was not until the party rode into Albuquerque that Sandy said with a sigh: “Well, my holiday ends here; I’ve got to go back to Panchuelo in a few days.”

“Oh, really! I thought you were going to accompany Burt to Acoma,” said Mrs. Vernon.

“No, he won’t need me there, and all the big pueblos of New Mexico have been visited. I wish I could go with you to Acoma, however, Captain. You know, it is said that one can make any good wish when first standing at the Enchanted Mesa, and it will instantly come to pass.”

“What would you wish, Sandy?” asked Joan, mischievously. “Maybe I can act as proxy for you.”

“Well, you might try it,” returned the Ranger, daringly. “I wish that a coveted friend might thaw somewhat, from the icy attitude that she maintains towards me, before I have to say good-by. There are many important matters I would discuss with this friend, but one has no inspiration when the chill is so intense as to stop my circulation.”

“That’s a good wish and I’m sure it will be answered. Anyway I promise you I shall ask it of the guardian spirits of the Mesa,” giggled Joan.

“Lots of good such a wish will do Sandy if he leaves us at Albuquerque,” said Mr. Gilroy.

“We won’t get to the Enchanted Mesa till after we have said good-by to the Ranger,” added Mrs. Vernon.

In spite of such innuendoes, Julie failed to “thaw” until the very last night of Sandy’s stay in Albuquerque. It happened that there was to be a hop at the hotel that evening, and the seven scouts had frizzed and frilled for the occasion; consequently they appeared on the scene looking very fresh and attractive—so thought several young college men who had been smoking cigarettes and talking to the Ranger. Naturally he introduced the scouts to his companions and a most enjoyable evening followed.

If a tenderfoot in the East fancies New Mexico has a climate that is hot enough to sizzle bacon on a rock, or induce a tourist to go to bed at night without sheets or blanket to cover him, that one will have another guess coming. In all the time the scouts had been in New Mexico they had not felt any too warm, even at noon-day, in their woolen shirts and khaki breeches. Now, at the hotel dance, they were decidedly cool in their light dinner gowns, and evening scarfs.

As the young people, chaperoned by the Captain, moved towards the ball-room, Sandy managed to get beside Julie and ask: “Are you not feeling cool without a wrap?”

“I’m so icy that sensation is no longer one of my five senses,” returned she, quickly.

“Perhaps you will thaw out after a dance with me,” suggested Sandy, giving her a look that pleased her mightily—a look of admiration.

“I never thought dancing was part of a Ranger’s duty,” remarked she, casually.

“Oh, but it is! When we are supposed to entertain friends—such as we now are.”

“Who said so? I should say we were mere acquaintances, here to-day, gone to-morrow.”

“Not so, Miss Julie! If you knew me better you’d know that I do not believe in to-morrows. I claim the nows of to-days.”

“Now what can you really claim?” demanded Julie, giving him a quick glance.

The Ranger caught it and smiled. The other members in the group had joined Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon, who were waiting at the door of the room, and now were pairing off for the dance. As Julie and her escort entered the room, the Ranger answered her last question very decidedly.

“You want to know what I claim now?—this”—and he swung her away into the whirl of dancers without as much as asking her would she be pleased.

To Julie’s amazement this partner could dance divinely. She was considered the most graceful dancer in Elmertown, and many times she had contributed for charity’s sake, at bazaars, at pageants, etcetera, the classical Greek and Oriental dances she could do so well. Therefore she considered herself a good judge of partners.

The two had circled the room and both were enjoying themselves immensely, when Sandy said in a low tone: “Are you thawing?”

Julie could not control the ripple of laughter, because she knew that he knew her seeming arrogancy was mere pretense. She was never patterned for a queen, nor for a charmer that spurned her idolators with haughty insolence.

The music ceased, but the joyous dancers encored to such a degree that the orchestra responded. During the interval in the dance Sandy smiled at Julie, and said: “It will not be necessary for Miss Joan to make that wish as my proxy at the Enchanted Mesa. The iceberg is no more.”

Julie tried to pout, but her spirits were too effervescent, and it ended in a laugh, as the Ranger swung her away again in the second half of the dance.

“Think I’ll stop for breath!” gasped Julie, as they came opposite an inviting balcony reached by palm-bowered French windows.

Sandy caught her thought and instantly whirled her over to the alluring tÊte-À-tÊte. As fate had it that evening the balcony was unoccupied, so the Ranger seated Julie in a luxurious wicker chair and took the other vacant chair beside her.

“Oh, what a marvelous scene!” exclaimed the scout, gazing at the sea-blue heavens where the brilliant stars twinkled like signal-lights on unseen vessels riding at anchor in the clear transparency of the heaven. All about she could see the ghostlike peaks that seemed to encircle the city, and back of them other peaks, and then back of these still others, till night swallowed the dim outlines of the Santa FÉ Range, the Pecos, the Sangre de Cristo, and other mountains.

Sandy was silent. He sat and stared at the distant mountains and pondered. He wished to ask a favor of his companion, but he was not sure how it would be received.

“Are you trying to see what your friend Oliver is doing up on Grass Peak?” asked Julie, quizzically, as she waited overlong for the Ranger to speak.

“I was visualizing myself up there in the cabin after Oliver brings up the mail-pouch. I will enjoy reading letters, next to being with Mr. Gilroy’s party.”

“Oh! then I shall see that both the men write you picture post-cards as we travel westward,” suggested Julie.

“I don’t care about that, but I do care about having you write: will you?”

“Post-cards? Why, I will, if no one else has time,” teased Julie.

“You know very well what I mean. Our time is so short, can’t you be serious just for a moment? I want you to promise to write letters to me—tell me what you are doing, where you are going, whom you are seeing! I want to feel that I am with you when you go through that wonderful Canyon in Arizona, when you go down Bright Angel, and when you camp in the bed of the Colorado River. Will you invite me to be with you by sharing your experiences in a letter?”

Julie had had many boyish admirers in Elmertown. After the Adirondack Camp the Boy Scouts of Grey Fox wrote frequently, and she answered their letters. She was too pretty and vivacious a girl to remain in the background of any society, hence she enjoyed light-hearted flirtations, and only last winter a few of her sister May’s callers took notice of her and included her in any party or outing. But this was a very different kind of a man from the boys she knew. While she was highly flattered, she was not quite certain whether she ought to encourage his apparent tendency to become attached to her. Several moments passed in utter silence while she thought. Sandy understood and waited.

Julie sighed in uncertainty and glanced at the young man who sat and awaited her answer. She saw how eager he seemed, and she thought of the life he lived with a much older man all alone on that mountain-top. Then she had a bright idea.

“I’ll send you the copies of the Elmertown Record! There you can read in print exactly what we are doing, eh?”

“No! I’ll have no cold print. I want personal letters in your hand-writing, or nothing!” He was certainly getting to speak with authority, was Julie’s thought. Then she giggled as she heard, in mind, Joan’s comment.

“Regular cave-man manner, Jule!”

“You’re going to say yes—I know you are,” exulted Sandy.

“Then you know more about it than I do. But I promise to think it over. You might give me your post office address, because, should I decide to send you a word, now and then, I’ll have it on hand.”

The Ranger caught Julie’s hand in his pleasure, and his eyes beamed thrillingly. The situation was becoming very romantic, thought Julie, when, quite unexpectedly, Mrs. Vernon stepped out upon the balcony.

“Oh, here you are!” said she, glancing quickly from one to the other. “Mr. Gilroy is waiting to dance with you, Julie, and the girls are deeply offended because Sandy has not asked one of them to dance. Shall we go in and join the others?”

They had to follow, but Julie sent one longing glance over her shoulder at the far-off glimmer that might be Panchuelo; while the Ranger leaned over and whispered: “Here’s my post office address—Julie, dear!”