JULIE’S SECRET AMBITION

Pleadings and prayers availed naught for those girls who were yearning to go southwest, yet dared not oppose parental judgment. Hence the Captain and four scouts only took the early Sunday train to Philadelphia, and there boarded the Limited to Chicago.

True to his word, Mr. Gilroy stood waiting at the terminal for the Dandelion party. “‘Oh, say, can you see,’” he began to sing as a welcome to the scouts when they ran down the station platform to greet their friend.

After doing his best to answer the questions of five females who all spoke at the same time, Mr. Gilroy held up both hands in despair. “I’ll do anything you say, girls, but spare the remnant of my ear-drums.”

Thus Mrs. Vernon was given a chance to be heard. “Are we to remain in Chicago for any length of time, Gilly, or do we take a train from here to-day?”

“We leave here this evening at eight on the Santa FÉ; I have the railroad and Pullman tickets in my pocket. All you will have to do between now and then is to amuse me,” replied Mr. Gilroy.

“How about taking you for a nice dry walk out on Lake Michigan, as you suggested in your letter of instructions,” giggled Julie.

“Or better still, give you a deep-sea bath up in North Chicago in the vicinity of Edgewater Beach,” added Joan.

“I’ve had both those constitutionals this morning, thank you,” returned Mr. Gilroy instantly.

“Well, then,” declared Mrs. Vernon, “we ought to take you to luncheon and see how much you can eat for the money we are willing to spend on you.”

“Now! that’s more to my fancy,” retorted Mr. Gilroy. “I’ll never refuse an invitation to eat. But, then, you know that, after having hiked the Rockies in my company last summer.”

Mr. Gilroy, as he spoke, escorted the scouts to the taxi-stand. They drove from the station and went along Michigan Boulevard to a well-known caterer’s and there enjoyed the luncheon. Although Mr. Gilroy had been the invited guest of the scouts he managed to turn the tables on them when the check was delivered by the waitress. In spite of all protests, he paid the bill and then laughed at the would-be hostesses.

After leaving the restaurant, Mr. Gilroy secured a large seven-passenger car and took the scouts for a sight-seeing trip. They passed the Museum and Public Library, and then drove up the Lake Shore Drive to Lincoln Park. At the Edgewater Beach hotel they stopped for afternoon tea.

“As this is the last chance you have for the summer to enjoy the social cup, I advise you to make the most of it,” suggested Mr. Gilroy, as he led his party out upon the vast balcony that extends over the Lake.

“How beautiful are the ever-changing colors of the water,” exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, as she watched the great lake before her.

“It’s said to be one of the most remarkable bodies of water in America, because of its kaleidoscope manner of merging one color to another in so short a time. Look out there by the lighthouse, for instance: the water over there looks quite green. Up to the north it is a deep blue, and down in front of us it is a tawny yellow. Towards Jackson Park it is brown—all at the same time,” remarked Mr. Gilroy.

“But you ought to see it in the winter, folks, when the northeasters tear loose and lash it into a wild beast,” said Mrs. Vernon. “The year Mr. Vernon and I were here we lived at the Grand Beach Hotel, where my windows had a fine view of the water.”

The tea and tempting French pastry now appeared and Lake Michigan became a dry issue to the girls.

Mr. Gilroy and his party boarded the train shortly before the time of its departure, but they had not dined in the city, therefore they sought the dining-car soon after the train pulled out of Chicago. Here they sat and enjoyed the scenery until it was too dark to see anything from the wide windows.

That night on the Pullman sleeping car Julie decided not to miss one bit of that wonderful ride. She literally followed Mr. Gilroy’s suggestion to use the suit-case for her head, but she placed the pillows of the berth on top of the luggage to enable her to prop up her head and gaze from the car window. The moon was almost full, and the silvery translucence which bathed everything seen from the flying train soothed and rested Julie’s nervous activities as she reposed and enjoyed the night scenes.

The speed of the train created a breeze which cooled the hot June night; and, there being little dust along the road bed, not to mention the fact that the smoke from the engine was blown back on the other side of the train, added greatly to the exhilarating delight of the trip.

Julie had a secret mission to perform during this summer’s outing, but she had taken no one into her confidence, not even the Captain, nor her twin-sister Betty. As she rested in a sitting position in the berth, she smiled as she thought of how she had to maneuver since leaving Elmertown on Sunday morning.

“But I did it and no one is the wiser,” murmured Julie to herself. “This ought to be a fine opportunity to write my impressions of Chicago and the railroad journey going west.”

Consequently the girl turned on the small electric light in the berth, and got out a pad of paper and a fountain pen. In a few moments she was scribbling away as if for dear life. She wrote and wrote exactly as though the flowing of the ink from her fountain pen caused an automatic flow of ideas from her brain down to and through her fingers which guided the pen.

After an hour’s steady writing and the rewriting of certain portions of the script, Julie sighed with relief.

“There! Another day’s work reeled off for the Elmertown Record. I wonder what Daddy will say when he reads the story of our daily doings in his own home paper?”

So that was Julie’s secret! One way she had of reaching the mothers of those scouts who were left behind, to tell them of the wonderful opportunities they had caused their daughters to miss; at the same time Julie was earning money—real money—for these contributions to the local newspaper.

Mr. Vernon was waiting for the train when it pulled into the station at Kansas City. His welcome was vociferous from the girls, hearty from Mr. Gilroy, and happy from his wife.

“Well, Gilly, did you fix up the stop-over privileges on your tickets?” asked Mr. Vernon as they all stood on the platform of the station.

“Yes, I arranged it so that we have all day in Kansas City and leave on the 10.20 to-night for the west. Did you wire Tally the change of time when we would arrive at La Junta?”

“Yes, and he wired back that he’d be there on time.”

All that day was spent in seeing the city, and at night the scouts took the train and, after traveling all night and the following morning, arrived in La Junta at one o’clock.

There would be no time to lose at the station, hence both Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon got off to seek Tally and his outfits. In a few moments they caught sight of the Indian and helped him to board the train. The two men assisted Tally in carrying the huge packs to the Pullman, and there the girls eagerly welcomed him.

“Oh, Tally, how do you do?” cried the scouts who had been with the Indian the previous summer.

“Me pooly well,” grinned Tally, pulling off his cap and bobbing his head many times.

Mrs. Vernon, approaching, extended her hand and spoke cordially to the guide, who was devoted to her. With Tally’s advent came also the bulky bundles, but by that usual persuasive power which operates with public servants Mr. Gilroy induced the Pullman porter to stow away the outfit during the remainder of the trip.

The tents, cook-stove, utensils and harness were to be purchased in Trinidad, the junction where Mr. Gilroy planned to leave the train and take to the trail.

Soon after they started southward for the Enchanted Lands Mr. Gilroy began to catechize.

“I see you obeyed my orders to travel light, but I want to know just what you brought. I may have to supplement the baggage at Trinidad.”

Mrs. Vernon enumerated: “We each have a khaki suit; a pure wool suit; waterproof coats; cowboy’s slickers; several pairs of wool golf stockings; three changes of wool underwear—one light weight, two pairs heavy weight; one pair knee-length rubber boots; one pair scout hiking shoes, and one pair riding boots. Then we have a few minor items such as toothbrushes, combs, etcetera.”

As the Captain read from a paper, Mr. Gilroy checked up the items on a memorandum he had taken from his pocket.

“I see where you’ll need more shoes, Captain. Once we start on the trail it will be difficult to get the kind I want the scouts to have this summer. We will try and buy them in Trinidad. Otherwise I shall have to telephone to Denver and have a sport-shop send them to Santa FÉ, where we can get them from the express-office.”

“What special kind do you want, Gilly?” asked Mr. Vernon, who had been listening to the conversation.

“Tally says elk-skin boots never shrink when wet, nor do they harden as they dry. They have broad extension soles which keep the stirrups from rubbing against the sides of the foot. These soles, made partly of cork, give a spring and lightness to the hiker, and are thick enough to protect the soles of the feet from being bruised from the sharp projections of the rocks. We figure that a pair of these high boots will last throughout the trip if ordinary care is given them.

“Tally ought to be a competent judge of elk-skin,” returned Mr. Vernon. “If you tried to get them in New York, the chances are you’d get a clever imitation which would soak up into a pulp the first time the girls waded through a stream.”

“That’s why I said nothing about these boots in my letter to the scouts. I wanted to buy them out here where I knew we should find the genuine article,” explained Mr. Gilroy.

During this conversation the scouts had been entertaining Tally with the story of all they had accomplished in their scout work since last he saw them.

Then Tally began a recital of his thrilling experiences through the hunting season in the mountains, while pursuing his usual occupation of trapping and hunting. He had narrated but the first part of these adventures when Mr. Gilroy called to him.

“Say, Tally! what about the horses and packburros? Will your dealer in Denver have them waiting for us at Trinidad, as I ordered?”

“No, Boss; he say me hav’ card to fren’ in Santa FÉ who have fine hoss,” replied Tally, showing Mr. Gilroy the note of introduction.

“Great Scott! We want the mounts when we arrive in Trinidad! I have planned to ride from there over the Raton Mountain, then follow along the Cimarron River, through the Cimarron Canyon as far as Springer. At Springer we can take the train to Las Vegas. From there I plan to ride to the Pecos. So, you see, we’ve got to have horses at Trinidad, Tally.”

“Leaf him to me. Some way we get him fur you all,” promised Tally confidently. And so it was left.

Nothing of importance occurred during the trainride to Trinidad, though the wonderful scenery of Colorado caused constant “oh’s” and “ah’s,” or calls of “look at that” and “come here and see this” from the scouts.

Arriving at Trinidad with his party, Mr. Gilroy despatched Tally at once to hunt up suitable mounts and burros for the trail he had outlined. While the guide went upon this quest, the touring party sought for the desired elk-skin boots.

“Looks as if you’d have to wire to Denver for them,” suggested Mr. Vernon, as one shop after another was canvassed without success for the desired boots.

This shopping excursion was very interesting to the scouts; they would stop to admire or inspect the displays in the stores, or watch with curiosity any unusual sight on the streets. As all these diversions took time, it was several hours before Mr. Gilroy turned back to The Cardenas, the hotel where they had registered.

“As soon as we get there, I’ll have to get in a call on the long distance ’phone and order those boots from Denver,” Mr. Gilroy was saying to the girls, when Tally ran up to them.

“Say, Boss; me hope you no got shoes, eh?” exclaimed he, anxiously.

“No such luck, Tally. Why ask?” responded Mr. Gilroy.

“Me fin’ sure Indian what mak’ him fine! One Indian keep hoss-farm down Raton Mountain way, an’ he take me to house where fam’ly all mek’ fine shoe. Plenty elk-skin you fin’ dere. So me run back, mebbe you no buy in store, eh?”

“That’s good news, Tally. Lead on, and we’ll follow gladly,” declared Mr. Gilroy, with a relieved sigh.

“What about the horses, Tally,” said Mr. Vernon, as they started down the side street.

“Indian promees he fetch righda-way to Trin’dad. He hully off ’fore me all tru spick wid heem. Mebbe he not hear me want tree pack burros.”

“Well, let’s hope he can provide us with enough to give us each one horse,” added Joan.

“Otherwise we might have to leave Gilly and the Vernons behind,” laughed Julie.

“He say he got plenty fine mule. You no want hoss in Mex’co mountains. Onny sure-foot mule an’ burro,” explained Tally.

“Tally, when does this ‘righda-way’ mean,” asked Mrs. Vernon, smiling at the guide.

“Oh, he hully back to fahm what sit down Gray Mine road; ’en he tie rope along mule an’ hep ’em to Trin’dad,” explained Tally, earnestly.

“When—to-night, or to-morrow, Tally?” repeated Mr. Vernon.

“Mebbe, t’nighd; mebbe, t’mollow,” was Tally’s reply.

At one extreme end of the town the scouts found several Indian families living in small adobe houses. Each family had a patch of ground highly cultivated, and each made a living by basket-weaving, bead-embroidery, and moccasins. One family, the one Tally had found, made elk-skin boots. These were all sewed by hand and were the softest, most comfortable things possible to imagine. The sizes were not as true as they might have been had the pattern been cut in a shoe-factory, but they made up in style and ease that which they lacked in accurate measurement.

“Ah! I only hope the fellow has enough to fit each one of us with a pair of these,” whispered Mr. Gilroy in the Captain’s ear.

“I believe I’d buy two pair for myself, if there are any to spare,” said Mr. Vernon, after examining the quality.

“He mek moocha boot for shop in Santa FÉ, an’ way back Denver,” was Tally’s interpretation of the old Indian’s speech.

“Ask him how many he’s got on hand, Tally,” said Mr. Gilroy.

Tally turned to the little family group that stood at one side of the low-ceiled room listening to and watching the Eastern people. When Tally asked them Mr. Gilroy’s question, the old man shoved one of the young squaws out of the room, at the same time jabbering some lingo to her. In a few minutes she returned dragging a heavy packing-case at her heels. In this box were more than a dozen pairs of boots of different sizes.

“Where shall we sit to try them on?” asked Mrs. Vernon, seeing there were no chairs in the hut.

“On the floor, where the host sits to work or entertain,” laughed Julie.

Meantime Tally had been busy with the foot-wear, and now handed out pairs of the boots that he thought would fit the various members in his party. Thus, in half an hour’s time, each one was provided with a pair of the boots. The men each took two pair, and then insisted that Tally select a pair for himself. He protested.

“But our guide is more important than our outfits. Keeping you comfortably shod is an asset for the season,” declared Mrs. Vernon.

Then the girls began to argue with him, till finally, holding aloft both hands in mimic surrender, Tally accepted the gift.

“Now, how much do we owe your new acquaintance, Tally?” asked Mr. Vernon, taking a roll of bills from his pocket.

Tally asked the Indian, but that salesman shook his head and replied in native speech.

“He say he not know onny whad he get f’om agent. Mebbe you not lak pay so mooch,” explained Tally.

“How much is that a pair?” asked Mr. Gilroy.

Tally interpreted again and told his employer the price.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed Mr. Gilroy, in astonishment. “Tell him to trot out another case of these same boots, Tally. The scouts will each take two pair at that price, and we men will take three each.”

But Mr. Gilroy’s greed to buy out the stock at bargain prices was foiled. There were enough small sizes to supply the scouts each with two pairs, but no extra ones for the men.

Mr. Vernon gave the man an extra ten dollar bill for his honesty in the deal, and the old squaw immediately suggested something to Tally.

“She say you want plenty moccasins!”

“We haven’t any!” declared the Captain and the scouts in one breath.

“You’ll need them, on cold nights,” said Mr. Gilroy.

“Yes, I know; but we were going to buy them in Denver,” explained Mrs. Vernon.

“Gude bis’niz you diden’,” chuckled Tally. “Now you buy fine moccasin fer same ten dollah money.”

The squaw ran away and in a short time returned with her skirt filled with exquisitely beaded pairs in all sizes.

“Too beautiful to wear in the wilderness,” sighed Julie, as she handled a pair with the toes a solid mass of bead-work.

When the “Whites” left that tiny home they left great wealth behind, for they had each added two pairs of moccasins, thick-skinned and simply made, to their outfits, and had purchased the elaborate ones to send home to those scouts who had not come west.