Dorothy on a Ranch. Raymond Evelyn

tell of him and money talks. Fares, please.”

      Dorothy and Alfaretta clung together, really afraid of the cabman who was now growing decidedly angry. He was a stranger to that city and had just embarked in a rather losing business, his outfit of horse and cab being a second-hand one and too shabby for most patrons.

      Also, “Buttons,” as Leslie had called the bell-boy, now returned to say that “no name of Ford was on the register and the clerk wouldn’t bother.”

      Here was a dilemma. The trio who had ridden in state now felt very small, indeed, and glanced at one another in dismay. Then Leslie surveyed the name over the hotel entrance and exclaimed:

      “Pshaw! This isn’t the place at all. That donkey of a driver has brought us to the Metropole and not the Metropolitan. I might have known Dad wouldn’t put up at such a third-rate tavern as this! Now, you idiot, we’ll get in again and you take us where you were bid! and there, it’s likely, you’ll make the acquaintance of Mr. Daniel Ford in a way you don’t like! Get in, Dorothy – Alfy! We can’t stand foolin’ here!”

      But the cabman closed the door of his vehicle with a bang and calmly folded his arms to wait. Dolly pulled out her little purse. It contained one nickel and two cents. She had carefully cherished these because coins smaller than a nickel are not plentiful in California; but she tendered them to Leslie who smiled and shook his head. Alfaretta discovered a dime, but it was her “luck piece,” wrapped in pink tissue paper and carried thus in order that she “might always have money in her pocket,” and she hated to give it up. Both she and Dolly thought regretfully of the little pocket-hoard they had begged the Gray Lady to keep for them, lest they spend it on the trip. However, neither the cabman nor Leslie accepted their offering, and the latter exclaimed:

      “Ain’t this rippin’? Lost in a strange city, in the middle of the day, and not a soul willing to help us out! What in the world will Dad say!”

      “What, indeed! But look here, Leslie Ford, we’ve got enough to pay for telephoning that other hotel, if the man in here will let us use his ’phone! Then your father will send somebody after us or do something. Please try. I feel so queer with so many folks staring at us as if we’d done something bad!”

      By this time the hotel clerk had become more amiable. The name of Ford had impressed him if it hadn’t the hackman, and though he, too, was new to the town he bade Leslie:

      “Go ahead! Call him up, if there is such a man.”

      With a glance of angry contempt Leslie put the receiver to his ear and rang up “Dad;” only to hang it up again in disgust, as the answer came back: “Line’s busy!”

      CHAPTER II

      A SPILL BY THE WAY

      The “line” remained busy for so long that the loungers in the hotel lobby grew amused at Leslie’s impatience while the two girls became very anxious.

      “It was only an hour or so, Mr. Ford said, before Aunt Betty’s train would leave and I shall be too late to see her – to bid her good-by – and it’s for all summer – a whole long summer! I must go, I must find her, I shall – I will!” cried poor Dorothy, her own words increasing her fear of this calamity, and with a sudden burst of tears. For an instant she tried to keep them back, then careless who might see her crying, darted outward to the curbstone and to the hackman waiting there.

      In so doing she collided with a gentleman entering, who staggered backward from the impact, then quietly put his hands upon the girl’s shoulders, to steady her also.

      “Beg pardon, little miss! and hello! What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Beg pardon twice, in that case!”

      The tone was kindly and to Dorothy it was a case of “any port in a storm.”

      “No, no, sir, you didn’t! But I’m – we’re – in dreadful trouble. Do you know – do you? – where that other hotel is, that Metropolitan?”

      “Surely, I know. Why?”

      “Is it far? Can I run there quick? The cabman – we haven’t any money – it was a mistake – and I must go, I must!”

      Leslie laid a soothing hand on Dorothy’s, which she had clasped imploringly before the stranger, and told their story.

      The effect was surprising. This gentleman was the proprietor of this establishment and he well knew Mr. Ford, by reputation at least. With one angry glance around the lobby and at the now obsequious clerk, he wheeled about, strode to the cab, opened the door and lifted Dorothy within. Then he as promptly settled Alfaretta beside her, himself took the forward seat and motioned Leslie to follow. Then he ordered:

      “Now, cabby, drive like lightning! It’ll be worth your while. Straight ahead, five blocks – east two – north three! Drive, I tell you.”

      And “drive” the man did, as fast as his slow horse could be urged, while within the carriage the three young folks sat in anxiety, Dorothy leaning far forward, as if by that means she could reach her destination sooner.

      Their new friend beamed upon her, asking a few questions which drew out a brief history of their trip and the plans for their coming summer. Then almost before the cab was halted before a big hotel he had opened its door again and taking the hands of the two girls piloted them straight into it and through some great halls to the dining room. There he halted and gave the name:

      “Mr. Daniel Ford and party.”

      “At dinner, sir, private dining room. May not wish to be disturbed. I’ll send to inquire – step into the reception room please,” bowed and explained the employee the gentleman had summoned.

      “That’s all right. Direct us. I’m Darby of the Metropole. These young people belong to Mr. Ford’s party.”

      A moment later they had met Mr. Ford himself, issuing from his private room, vexed and anxious at their delay and starting out in their pursuit.

      “Well, laggards! What does this mean? Wasting the time when there’s so little of it? Mrs. Calvert’s fretting so she can’t eat her dinner and – in with you! In with you! There’s but fifteen minutes before her train starts east!”

      When a good natured man is angry he seems another person and Dorothy drew back in fear. But Alfaretta’s own temper rose and she exclaimed:

      “Don’t scold us, please, Mr. Ford, it wasn’t our fault!” while Leslie vainly tried to explain: “A gentleman, a stranger, brought us here and paid our cab fare. I want a dollar, Dad, to refund him.”

      But, for once, the doting father was deaf to his son’s words. He did not even pause in his rapid stride along the corridor, fairly dragging Dorothy off her feet in his unconscious haste, and finally depositing her in an empty chair beside Aunt Betty’s, with the remark:

      “Here’s your ‘bad penny’ again! She – they all – will learn some lessons up at San Leon, this summer, or I’m a mistaken man. The one thing nobody should dare lose is – time!”

      Mrs. Calvert gave him a surprised look but she had also been hurt by Dorothy’s absence during the brief space that remained to them together, and she hastened to deliver the many last charges and bits of advice that seemed needful before their parting.

      A waiter placed their dinner before the three young folks and Alfy and Leslie fell to work upon it with hungry zeal, but Dorothy could not eat. Her eye had discovered a clock on the wall, with the hands pointing five minutes to three. At ten minutes past that hour the “Eastern Limited” would roll out of the station and she be left behind. In a sudden impulse, she threw her arms about Aunt Betty’s neck, begging:

      “Take me with you! Please take me with you! I – I love you best of all the world, so why shouldn’t we keep together?”

      If there were tears in Mrs. Calvert’s bright, dark eyes, she did not allow them to fall. Unclasping her darling’s arms and gently laying them down, she silently signalled to Mrs. Ford and almost as silently left the room.

      The “Gray Lady” followed and Aunt Betty whispered:

      “I’m