CHAPTER VIII.

A GLIMPSE OF HOME.

Jack hastened his departure from the ranch on the Troublesome, stopping at Hot Sulphur Springs one night, crossing the Berthoud pass, early in the day, again fighting snow drifts as big as houses, as he skirted around and over the great continental divide but a little distance from the summit of cheerless Gray's Peak buried in her white mantle. Leaving his pony at Georgetown for the mail carrier to lead back, he continued his journey by rail to Denver and from there eastward to his home. Jack dearly loved his New England home and, as the old scenes again appeared before him, he saw new beauties to enchant and impress him. His mother, sister and sweetheart were all on the veranda of the grand mansion, and, as he jumped from the carriage, he found himself attacked by a center rush such as no college boy ever before struck. At least five touch downs were scored before they broke away.

"Did you bring any Indian things?" all demanded in a chorus.

"I say Jack," said Hazel, "where is the pony you promised me?"

"I want those eagle plumes for my hat," said one of his sisters. Even his mother could not resist the avalanche of wants and, during an opportune lull, archly asked if there was any danger of her having to give up the "spare room" to an Indian daughter-in-law, which of course produced a laugh at the expense of Hazel.

With the first greetings over, Jack at last got his mother and father alone, and plunged into the subject uppermost in his mind.

"My son," his mother commented, "be cautious regarding your actions with this heathen daughter of the wilderness. You can not tell what kind of an ambush she may lead you into. Fancy Hazel trotting about educating one of the young warriors!"

This was logic with a vengeance. Even Jack could not gainsay it. It was the same old proposition of woman's prerogative to outdo a man. Jack pondered over the trip from the Ute village across the divide and the night camp in the willows. He looked a little sheepish and waited in discreet silence.

"Is it necessary, Jack," asked his father, "that you should go to this unheard-of mine with the old Indian? Why not let him go and return with the treasure alone as he has done before?"

"He is too old to attempt the journey and it is his desire that Chiquita be one of the party, as he will give the mine to her and myself equally," answered Jack, not at all assured that the reply would make matters any better.

"Have you such an unbounded faith in a crafty Indian as to believe that he knows of any such fabulous treasure that even a nation might send an army to snatch away from its rightful owners, and that he will lead you to this mine simply to reward you for standing as press agent for his equally crafty daughter?"

Jack saw that his father was beginning to tread upon dangerous ground, that it would take but little to cause an unpleasant scene unless he could overcome the prejudice now gaining ground with his parents. He keenly felt the implied lack of confidence which both displayed, and for a moment he was inclined to become a trifle skeptical himself, but he quickly reasoned, "If I show any weakening they will hammer all the harder."

"Father," he slowly began, "and mother, you are both ripe in the experience of this world, with the civilized method of taking from the untutored forest man his hunting ground, his home, by the simple process of a representation from each state of a government; a proposition is voted upon to drive this native farther and farther toward the setting sun, farther and farther back, until now he lives in a barren country, his larder empty and his proud mien broken. The remnant of former greatness drooped to a low ebb of cunning, outmatched only by the cunning of the frontier statesman, backed by the grasping political land-grabber and office-holding despot bidding for votes--these jackals whose blighting breath corrupt juries, legislatures and even the church into a belief that it is justice to waylay the child of nature in the onward march of civilization, to wrest from him the land which God gave as an heritage. Yes, father, I have unbounded faith in Yamanatz that he can and will show me the greatest mass of gold in one mine ever uncovered by the hand of man. I will forestall you as to finance. See, in this pouch is some twenty pounds of gold dust, which the great chief gave me for 'pin money,' and in the strong box of the express company is one hundred pounds of the same kind of dust. This is earnest money. This deposit, made of his own accord, warrants my belief in his ability to produce the property. Coupled with this was the watchfulness over me by both Yamanatz and Chiquita, and but for their care and warning I should not be here now."

As Jack unrolled the buckskin pouch of nuggets and grains of dull, rich gold, the look on his father's face changed from one of intense scorn to deference, from sarcasm to a fawning smile. The avarice in his nature manifested itself in so apparent a manner that Jack was tempted to make one little fling, but restrained himself.

"My son, what you have uttered about the Indian being deprived of his land is the old story. Every once in a while it comes out in a little different cover, but are we to blame for the actions of our ancestors? They came here to live, to escape the tyranny of rulers whom they renounced, and in the seeking of a new world were obliged to treat with these pagans. Is it not far better to have this country populated with a race of God-fearing, civilized, labor-giving people, a people who by their master minds and master hands today provide the world with food, with clothing, with machinery that other nations may become enlightened and as progressive as we are?"

"Yes," interrupted Jack, "and with our own machinery send back goods and experienced laborers to compete with the skilled labor we have educated up to the necessary standard. You would add also, that this class of citizens, with its Saturday night carousals and Monday's line of police court criminals, is superior to the noble red man, who knew not fire water nor knavery until these civilized, God-fearing people taught it to them."

"Well, Jack, are you going to head a tribe of Utes to drive us back across the big sea?"

"No, father, I guess I shall have all the work of philanthropy I need in piloting this young heathen through the 'hell gate' of learning into the whirling vortex of society and accomplishments," laughingly answered Jack.

"When will you start on this quest?" timidly asked his mother.

"Not later than the first of March, for I must be at Rock Creek soon after that time, and part of the trip is via the snow shoe route."

Just then Hazel and Jack's sisters knocked imperatively for admission.

"Oh--ee, Jack, is that real gold dust in that nasty looking bag?" said Miss Hazel, as she sniffed at the pouch suspiciously.

"Yes, Miss Tenderfoot, that is the real stuff."

"What is that you call me, tenderfeet? Why, my feet are not tender."

"Oh, that is the mountain name for what sailors call 'landlubbers,' and--say, when I get a couple of wagon loads of that you will tack my name onto your own with a little hyphen, won't you, dear?"

"I say, Jack," broke in one of his sisters, "did you run across any good looking white men, with lots of money, that want some one nice, 'to cook for two?'" And the dear little apron-bedecked bit of sunshine pirouetted on her toes in gleeful anticipation of Jack's reply.

"Sure I did. Bill commissioned me to get him a cook, dishwasher, milkmaid and wood chopper,"--

"Hold on, Mr. Jack, I draw the line on milking. Ugh! I tried it once down at Uncle John's and I squirted my eyes full of milk. You need not laugh so. Uncle John just laughed fit to kill himself. That wasn't half so bad as Hazel, though. She tried to put blankets over the little pigs so they would keep warm, and when the old pig chased her"--

"You stop, stop, stop! Fire! Water!" screamed Hazel and no one ever found out what happened during the chase.

Then sister Katherine wanted something.

"Jack, you know what you promised to get me once, and you said when you had enough money you would buy me a nice canary and brass cage, and now that you have got it--such lots of it--won't you keep your word?"

"They raise larger and louder voiced birds in the west than they do in the Hartz mountains. The 'Rocky mountain canary' is the greatest warbler on earth. I have my mind on one that is a daisy and when I come back you shall surely have it."

"Oh, Jack, you are so good," murmured she.

Jack's eyes twinkled as he thought of the joke he would have on Katherine, but he never said a word. Turning to Hazel he said: "Well, Lady Jack, what do you think of my chaperoning a dusky maiden for several years in her search for a continuous performance of good deeds, hospitals, nurses and the study of political and social economy? Do you think her thirst will find a quencher?"

"Oh, Jack, go by all means, only don't attempt to get her into any clubs or societies and expect me to help you out. I recommended Daisy Deane for initiation in our B. A. F. club,--you know 'Bachelors Are Forbidden,' and she got one black ball. Daisy is a stenographer, you know, and her employer is Mr. Doolittle and Mrs. Doolittle is our High Priestess."

"Yes," said Jack curtly, "and she does not belie her name, I guess."

"That isn't all, Jack. Mrs. Doolittle has got her ax sharpened for me, I understand, at next election. I was going to run for corresponding secretary, but I guess I will give it up!"

The short visit made to his home was devoted mainly to making arrangements with tutors and deciding on the best lines to follow in fitting Chiquita for the work she had chosen.

Hazel and his sisters made quite a bit of sport of the undertaking, but Jack took it all good naturedly, holding his own against the combined forces in repartee.

After these details were disposed of he joined Hazel at her home for a few days, then started for the frontier.