Jean had gladly accepted the offer. "It would be just the thing," she said. Then they could really see why she loved the mesa as she did, and especially her very own corner of it. The dogs would be glad of company, for she had driven the three cows that very morning to the neighboring homestead, and except for the chickens, Watch and King were all alone. The cabin door had no lock, and they might go right in and make themselves at home. There was an extra cot in the kitchen, bedding in plenty, and loads of food supplies. She would simply love to have them do it!

Virginia had turned questioningly to the listening Vigilantes.

"Let's!" said Mary.

"Oh, do let's!" cried Priscilla.

"Of course," faltered Vivian, insuperably buoyed up by company.

"All right," said Jean MacDonald as she turned Robert Bruce toward the road. "It's settled then! There's plenty of b.u.t.ter and milk in the creek-refrigerator--I left them there--and lots of fish in the creek.

You'll have to rustle your own wood, I guess. Help yourselves to everything! Good-by!"

William, who was working among his flowers, had waited only for Aunt Nan's approval. Now that it had come, he was off to saddle the horses, while the excited Vigilantes flew to get into their riding-clothes.

"I'm so glad you dared to suggest it, Virginia," said Priscilla, struggling with her boot lacings. "I thought of it, too--that's what I meant by nudging you--but, of course, I wouldn't have liked to propose it.

In the two weeks I've been here, I've had the best time I ever had in my life, and I really believe this is going to be the best of all."

"I suppose," observed Virginia, "that the boys will be more or less disappointed because we won't be here to go on the gopher hunt, but we can shoot dozens of gophers any day."

"Of course," returned Vivian, who had never shot one in her life.

"Of course," echoed Mary, who was in the same cla.s.s with Vivian.

"Besides," continued Priscilla, "the experience of shooting a gopher, while doubtless thrilling in the extreme, doesn't compare for one moment with homesteading. Do you know, girls, I believe I'll take along my Thought Book. Something might come to me!"

"I would, if I were you," acquiesced Virginia. "No, Hannah, dear," she added, turning to the faithful retainer in the doorway, "we don't want a thing to eat. Thank you just as much. It wouldn't be homesteading at all if we carried food. Jean says there are plenty of supplies out there.

We're just going to take our night-dresses and combs and tooth-brushes and Priscilla's Thought Book."

Hannah smiled dubiously.

"Supplies is all right, deary," said she, "but who's going to cook them?"

"I can make biscuits, I think," offered Mary. "At least, I did once."

Virginia thought for a moment, uncertain of her contribution.

"I'm sure I can fry fish," she said. "I've seen you do it a hundred times, Hannah."

Priscilla and Vivian, not being culinary experts, made no promises; but Virginia, even in the face of discouragement, still insisted that they take nothing.

"Then don't go till after dinner," called Aunt Nan from her room. "It will be ready in an hour."

"Better wait," reiterated Mr. Hunter. "William's had to go on the range a piece for the horses, anyway."

So it was after dinner that the four homesteaders started for their borrowed claim, leaving behind three disgusted boys armed for a gopher hunt, an amused father, an interested William, a still doubtful Aunt Nan, and a much-worried Hannah.

"Can't we even come to call?" asked Carver, holding Vivian's horse for her to mount.

"No, Carver," said Virginia sweetly, "you can't. We want to see how it will really seem to be homesteading all alone. We'll be back by noon to-morrow, and will go after gophers in the afternoon, if you want to wait. If you don't, it's all right."

"Why not invite us to supper?" suggested Donald. "We'll go directly afterward, and won't come too early."

"I should say not," cried Priscilla, much to Hannah's amus.e.m.e.nt as they galloped away. "Supper is to be an experiment for us, and we don't want any guests."

They rode south through the hills to Elk Creek Valley, where the pink and blue of the blossoms were fading a little in the August sun. It would be a golden Valley soon, Virginia said--yellow with sunflowers and golden-rod. Then they climbed the foot-hills to the mesa, and rode eagerly toward their newly-acquired cabin in the southwest corner.

"I feel exactly like the owner," confided Virginia, urging Pedro forward toward their goal. "I'm wondering if anything has happened since my trip to town."

Apparently nothing had happened. The cabin was slumbering peacefully in the August sunshine. Watch and King, however, were wide awake. They came bounding around the corner of the house, ready to guard their mistress'

property from all intruders. But in their superior dog wisdom they soon remembered that these young ladies were the friends who a few days before had made their mistress happy, and they gave the Vigilantes a royal welcome--both for Jean and for themselves.

Virginia considered matters for a moment before dismounting.

"I think I'll leave Pedro's bridle on," she said. "Then he won't stray far, and the others will keep near him. We'll unsaddle and put the things on the porch. Then that will be done. It's three o'clock now," she continued, consulting her watch, "and I don't think it would be a bad plan to get settled and consider supper, do you?"

No, they did not, they told her, as they dismounted. Virginia, with Pedro unsaddled and eager to feed, proudly watched Vivian as she tugged at Siwash's saddle-straps, and took off his bridle. It was some time since Vivian had asked a.s.sistance. Her heart might be beating fearfully inside--it probably was--when Siwash shook his head impatiently and stamped a foot; but only an instinctive backward movement proved that the fear was still there.

"Vivian's making new roots every day," Virginia said to herself, "and deep ones, too." And she smiled encouragingly into Vivian's blue eyes, as, the horses freed, they carried the saddles, blankets, and bridles to the porch.

Jean MacDonald was right. The cabin door would not lock. Three Vigilantes looked somewhat askance at one another when this fact was made known, though the fourth seemed not to consider it at all. The cot in the kitchen was examined and p.r.o.nounced comfortable.

"At least as comfortable as one would wish, homesteading for one night,"

said Priscilla.

Lots were drawn for beds and companions. Vivian and Virginia, it was thus decided, should sleep in the living-room, and Priscilla and Mary in the kitchen.

"Of course, we could move the kitchen cot into the living-room," said Virginia, "but it really isn't worth the trouble where the door is so small. Besides, you girls don't feel the least bit frightened about sleeping out there, anyway."

Mary looked at Priscilla and Priscilla looked at Mary. Not for veritable worlds would they have confided to Virginia the joy which would fill their hearts if that refractory kitchen cot could be moved into the living-room; not for untold riches would they have confessed the sinking feeling which attacked them upon the thought of sleeping in the kitchen nearest that unlocked door. A bear might push open that door, or a mountain lion roar outside their window--they would be game to the end!

"Now," announced Virginia, quite unconscious of the sensations which were agitating her friends, "I think we'd best begin to get supper. It may take some time. Mary, I see there's a cook book in the kitchen. If you've made biscuits only once, it might be well for you to study up a little. Vivian can set the table, and get some lettuce from the garden. I'll rustle the wood for the fire, and get the potatoes ready. Hannah told me to bake them about an hour. Priscilla, why don't you take one of Jean's rods and follow up the creek? There are some quaking-asps in a shady place up a little way, and it wouldn't surprise me at all if you got a trout there. Use some of those little dark flies--they're good this kind of a day. Come to think of it, Jean has some already on. You might add a gra.s.shopper or two.

There'll be plenty of them hopping around. Pinch their noses and they'll keep still."

Priscilla, armed with Virginia's directions, and a total lack of experience, took the rod and went her way. Never in her life had she caught a fish, but the zest of a possible catch seized her. If she could only get one, it would be something more to tell Alden, and might elicit praise as high as the bear-trapping experience had done. She saw the quaking-asps some rods above the cabin, crawled under the wire fence, and went toward them. Something hopped out of her way. A gra.s.shopper! She jumped, but missed him! Personally she did not care for the _feel_ of gra.s.shoppers, and their kindred of crawly things, but if she would accomplish her purpose, she must procure one. She dropped on her knees, and began her search. There were gra.s.shoppers in plenty, but they were of a very swift variety. Priscilla darted and dove on this side and that before she finally caught her prey. With loathing and disgust she proceeded to pinch his nose and render him helpless. She placed him awkwardly and none too securely on the hook beneath the little black fly, strode to the quaking-asps, disentangled her rod and line a dozen times, and at length managed to drop the baited hook into the creek. Then she straightened her weary form, grasped her rod firmly in her right hand and waited. The question was--should she do anything more than wait? Were one's chances of success greater if she wiggled the rod? Should one just stand still or walk back and forth, dragging the line after her?

If the trout in the dark pool under the shadow of the quaking-asps had seen the performance that preceded the appearance of that fly and gra.s.shopper, he never would have deigned to approach them. But his late afternoon nap had fortunately prevented, and now supper was before his very eyes. He darted for the gra.s.shopper and securely seized it.

Priscilla, standing motionless upon the bank, felt a tremor go through the rod in her hand, saw the tip bend, felt a frightful tug as the fish darted downstream. Something told her that her dream was realized--that she had at least _hooked_ a fish!

Had the fish in question been less greedy, he would have a.s.suredly made his escape. Priscilla knew nothing of the rules of angling. She only knew that she should never recover from chagrin and shame if that fish eluded her. She dropped the rod, grasped the line tightly in both hands, slid down the bank, stood in the creek to her boot-tops, and pulled with all her might. The trout, hindered by surprise as well as greediness, surrendered, and Priscilla with trembling hands and glowing eyes drew him to sh.o.r.e.

It never occurred to her to take him from the hook. Her one thought was to notify the Vigilantes of her success. Holding the line in one hand, just above the flapping, defeated trout, and grasping the rod in the other, she ran with all her might to the cabin, burst in the door, and exhibited her fish and her dripping, triumphant self to the Vigilantes. Fears of unlocked doors had fled! It was still light, and she was a conqueror!

Supper that night, in spite of Hannah's fears, was an unqualified success.

Memory and the cook-book had sufficed to make very creditable biscuits, the trout, rather demolished by vigorous cleaning, lay, brown and sizzling, in a nest of fresh lettuce leaves, and the potatoes were perfect.

"Isn't it fun?" cried Virginia, as they ate the last crumb. "It's better even than I thought."

"It's lovely," said Vivian, "only I feel just the same way that I did about staying all alone as Jean does. Look outside, Virginia. It's getting dark already!"