[A]True incident in author’s experience.
True incident in author’s experience.
CHAPTER XUNEXPECTED NEWS FROM PEBBLY PIT
The young collectors experienced the usual “red-tape” in offering the rare picture to the Museum, and after the customary delays, it was accepted with letters of thanks. Individual letters from several officials were written to Polly and her friends, voicing the appreciation of the men at being able to complete the series.
Shortly after this pleasing incident, the girls went out on another excursion just across the Hudson, in New Jersey. They took the ferry at One Hundred and Thirtieth Street, and after reaching Edgewater, drove through the small towns nestling on the Hackensack, until they came to the village of Hasbrouck Heights. All about this section are old, old houses, and if you hunt keenly enough, you will find delightful odd bits from Revolutionary days.
That evening, upon their return, the girls were eager to compare their trophies of the day, but themaid came in with a day letter for Polly. The others waited for her to read it, and as she read, her expression changed perceptibly.
“Oh, oh! It’s happened again!” cried she fearfully, as she finished the letter.
“What! What has happened?” anxiously asked her companions, crowding about her.
“Another slide on Grizzly. This time it has destroyedeverythingso that mining the gold is out of the question,” and Polly gave the message to Mrs. Fabian to read aloud.
“Bad land-slide on Grizzly. Demolished all machinery and wiped out the entire surface of mountain-top. No lives lost, but cave and vein of ore lost. Topography completely changed. Wait for summer to start new search and locate gold. Letter sent to Latimer and Dalken. Ask them for particulars. John Brewster.”
“Oh, Polly! That means that our gold mine has vanished, and all our income from it will be stopped!” cried Eleanor.
“We haven’t had any income to stop,” replied Polly, cynically. “About all the good we’ve ever had from Choko’s Find Mine has been violent physical exercise, expenses and the dreams that buoy hope.”
Her friends laughed in spite of the seriousnessof the matter, and Eleanor added: “It also means that Daddy, and all of our New York investors, have lost the money they invested in the project.”
“Well, when Tom Latimer called on me the evening after our ducking in the Bay, he said he was not in favor of working on the mine so late in the season. He thought John was taking dreadful risks to keep the plant open when snowstorms and slides were imminent.
“But John told him that plenty of snow was just what was needed on the peaks, to cement the chasms and crevices together that had been opened by the summer’s heat and continued drought all Fall. In case no snow came, he said he would agree to abandon work when the cold weather became too severe to remain at that altitude.”
“This unexpected accident and loss of the mine does not prevent the output of the lava jewels, Polly, so there’ll be no noticeable difference in your income, will there?” asked Mrs. Fabian.
“Well, Tom explained it all to me. He said that mine affairs were so involved with the jewel works at Rainbow Cliffs, that one disaster affected the other interest. Rainbow Cliffs is part of Pebbly Pit Ranch, so the Cliffs were incorporated when work began on the mining of the lava. Then when trouble at Choko’s Find Mine started,the mines at Rainbow Cliffs were mortgaged to secure financial aid for the gold mine on the mountains. So that everything is mixed up now in this calamity,” explained Polly, tearfully.
Soon after this, the telephone rang. Mr. Latimer said he was coming to call, that evening, and Mr. Dalken wished to come in at the same time. Would the girls be home?
Polly assured him they would, and also that he would be welcomed as she wished to hear about the important matters that he could fully explain to her.
Soon after eight o’clock, therefore, Mr. Latimer and Mr. Dalken were announced. Polly and Eleanor—the latter had realized that maybe her future, because of this disaster to the mine would not be as luxurious as she had dreamed of—anxiously welcomed the two men. Polly lost no time in polite nothings, but asked, at once, about the conditions at the mines.
“I see you have heard about the trouble?” ventured Mr. Latimer.
“Yes, I received a long night letter from home, this afternoon. But they do not say whether there is anything left to pay my way in New York, or whether I ought to start for home,” said Polly.
Eleanor was shocked at her words. “Why, Polly, surely you have no dread of such being the case, just because our old gold mine is choked again?”
“Don’t you understand, Nolla, that starting work on the mine, and all the machinery for it, costs so much that not only is the lava mine involved, but the very ranch is risked. Maybe father will have to sell out his beloved farm and go away,” explained Polly, with quivering lips.
“Oh no, Polly,” hastily came from Mr. Latimer. “We are all stock-holders in this venture, you know, and one man alone does not bear the costs of the mine and its losses. That is why Mr. Dalken and I came over, tonight, when we got word that John had written you. We feared you might not understand matters.”
“But I understand father, well enough, Mr. Latimer. He will never permit anyone to lose a penny because of him or his interests.”
“Maybe he won’t, Polly, but this mining venture was as much our interest as yours, or your father’s, remember. It seems gone, this time, but we must take our loss as courageously as we would our profits. Tom wired me to come and see you and explain that you need make no change in any of your plans, as everything would go onas usual at the ranch. He and John will devote all of their time to the Cliffs now, instead of dividing their attention between the two mines, as they have been doing, heretofore,” explained Mr. Latimer.
“But your mother wrote me, Polly,” now said Mr. Dalken, “that finances would be rather strained for the next year, because of this tremendous outlay on the mines and no income; and the terrible drought that killed off so many head of cattle on the ranch this year, makes things look rather unpromising. I know how practical you are, and I thought it best to let you hear how matters stand. Your folks asked me not to mention it, because they wanted you to finish your studies here, and there are ample funds to pay for that. But I took it upon myself to warn you about going deeply into any antique purchases, in your auction fever.”
“I’m so glad you did, Mr. Dalken. As you say, I am not a silly child, and now that I know exactly how matters are at home, I will see if I cannot do something while studying in New York, to pay my own way,” responded Polly, anxiously.
“Oh, it isn’t as bad as that, Child!” laughed Mr. Latimer; “but it is best for you not tobuy in Fifth Avenue shops, or give away rare old bargains from the country.”
Polly smiled. “Mr. Latimer, this is what I propose doing to earn my expenses in New York. Instead of buying old objects for fun, I shall secure them to sell again and make money.”
“Poll is right! And I propose going with her as the partner in her first business venture!” declared Eleanor.
“Where will you two girls find customers?” asked Mr. Dalken, admiring the way they accepted the news that their gold mine seemed wiped out for all time.
“Oh, Polly’ll find a way, never fear!” declared Eleanor with fervent faith in her friend’s ability to accomplish things.
“Yes, I’ll get Mr. Ashby, first of all, to permit us to exhibit our goods in his ‘odd room’ and we’ll pay him a commission for sales, just as other folks do who wish to exchange, or sell, their antiques,” explained Polly.
“Well, if you girls manage to find such valuable things as that famous missing picture that the Museum made such a time over, I should say you had found a big gold mine in New York instead of losing a little one in the Rockies,” said Mr. Dalken.
So, shortly after the girls learned that they had to economise on expenses that year, Polly carried her old coverlets to Mr. Ashby’s shop and left them with him to sell. The fine little mirror had been restored and was perfectly beautiful. This was placed on exhibition in the Empire Room of the Ashby Shop, but scarcely had it had time to be friendly with other rare objects in that room, before it was purchased at a high price. Thus Polly cleared several hundred dollars on the first sale, and felt encouraged to invest that money in new purchases.
Mr. Dalken gladly sent Carl with the car, to drive the girls whenever they heard of a place to visit, but Ruth and Nancy seldom accompanied them these days. Ruth had school to attend daily, and Nancy was painting a portrait for a famous stage beauty who had offered her an attractive price for the work.
The girls, with Mrs. Fabian, had gone again to New Jersey, after their great investment that day in Van Styne’s place; but they drove on to Baskingridge that day, and stopped at several ancient farm-houses to ferret for old things. At one of the places, they secured some very old glassware, also odd pieces of Staffordshire, and a well-nigh complete set of old Wedgewood dishes.
At another house they got a set of old brass fire-irons and a crane with all the hangers and pots complete, just as it had been removed from the brick fire-place and thrown up in the attic.
At the third house, Polly became enamored of a wonderful sampler, and several very old silhouettes—the latter, very different from the kind we are familiar with. As these old relics were in the attic and were considered valueless, she got them for a very small sum.
While Polly was bargaining for these trifles, Eleanor was in the grandmother’s room looking at several marvelous patch-work quilts. The old dame told Eleanor the story connected with each quilt; and one, the unusual one of silk pieces, as well as worsteds, patched in with calico, velvet and other odd materials, was said to be made of a collection of famous bits from gowns worn by the ladies of Revolutionary Days.
How the old grand-dame ever came into possession of such a valuable quilt, was beyond Eleanor’s comprehension. Then Polly and the house-wife joined her, and Polly was shown the quilt.
“How very interesting,” remarked she.
“Yes, and I’ll tell you how it came about,” explained Mrs. Johnson. “We’ve always lived onthis place, and when the Army passed this way, our folks helped out in all sorts of ways.
“During the winter that General Washington and his Lady were stationed at Morristown, there was lots of doings all about the county. You’ll read in the history of Lady Washington, how she was entertained by the first families about here—the Fords, the Footes, and others.
“Our great-grandmother was a fine needlewoman and went about to the houses making gowns and cloaks for the ladies. She always saved the scraps of silk and stuff that was wasted, and of these she patched several quilts. On the back of each bit of these materials, she pasted little book-muslin tickets that had the name and date printed on it, of the lady and the occasion she wore the gown. So on the back of each of these pieces is still to be found the printing of that ancestress of mine.”
“Oh, isn’t this interesting!” exclaimed Polly, eagerly.
And Eleanor asked: “Where are the other quilts?”
“We don’t exactly know what happened to the others she made; but this one came right down from grandmother’s mother to her, then to my mother, and now to me.”
“Would any price tempt you to sell it?” asked Polly.
“Nothin’ on earth, whiles I live. But I haven’t any children, and goodness only knows what will become of the dear old heirloom. Why did you ask?”
“How I would love to own it! Not for its value in money but really to hold it as a precious patriotic reminder of those days when the ladies, even though they dressed fine and had good times, performed such heroic and almost super-human deeds for the Army,” explained Polly.
Mrs. Johnson gazed keenly at the girl’s face for a few moments, then said: “Tell me your name and address: I am going to write it out now, that this quilt is to be yours any time I die; and you must be as careful of it as we have been. Always keep tar-paper, or tobacco in it, during summer when moths fly about.”
Polly thanked the lady very seriously and promised to be most careful of it in every way, but she said she hoped Mrs. Johnson would live a long time to enjoy the quilt as her own family relic.
On the drive back through Morristown that day, Mrs. Fabian had Carl stop at Mr. Van Styne’s auction rooms, but the old man was not in, and the door was locked. A sheet of papertacked inside the sash of the door, announced that the owner was at Parsippany numbering household goods for an auction to be held in two weeks’ time.
Mrs. Fabian made a note of the name and location of the house where the sale was to be held, and came back to the automobile. She showed the paper to the girls, and said:
“We’ll try to get out here for that sale. But I’ll write Mr. Van Styne first, and ask him what sort of things the people have.”
“Yes, it would be silly to come so far and find the house contained nothing but horrid old modern stuff,” said Eleanor.
Arriving home, late that afternoon, Mrs. Fabian was given a letter sent from the old auctioneer at Morristown. He had kept his word and notified the young collectors of the sale about to be held at Parsippany: the sale they had heard about that day.
“He says, in this letter,” explained Mrs. Fabian after reading it, “the old farm-house where the vendue will take place, is filled with real old furniture; the family that owned the farm have held it for five generations. Mr. Van Styne admits that he is not enough of a connoisseur to judge the actual value of the antiques, but thereare some mahogany pieces, and loads of queer old things thathiswife would have kept in the attic, or split up for kindlings. As he thinks this is what is now called ‘Period Furniture,’ he would suggest that we run out and have a look at it before the day of the sale.”
“The letter sounds exactly like him, doesn’t it?” laughed Polly.
“Yes, but it is very nice of him to be so honest about it. Most auctioneers would tell us the furniture was wonderful,” returned Mrs. Fabian.
“When do you think we can run out there, Mrs. Fabian?” asked Eleanor, eagerly.
“We’ll find out what day Carl can best arrange for the trip. We mustn’t ‘drive a willing horse to death,’ you know.”
Later in the evening, the telephone bell rang and Polly was called to the ’phone. The maid who answered the ring said it was a man’s voice but she had not been able to understand the name.
Eleanor heard her chum say: “Oh, really! We’ve been wondering what became of you. It was so surprising to find you were an old friend of our Mr. Dalken’s and then never hear from you again, or have anyone know where you had gone.”
Mrs. Fabian glanced questioningly at Eleanor,but the girl shook her head in token of her ignorance of who the caller could be. Then they heard Polly say: “Why, I reckon so. If you’ll hold the wire a moment, I’ll run and ask Mrs. Fabian.”
A few moments later, Polly rushed into the room and said eagerly: “Jack Baxter is on the ’phone and wants to know if he may come in, tomorrow evening, Mrs. Fabian. He says he has a little furniture commission for Nolla and me to take care of.”
Mrs. Fabian immediately replied that the young man would be welcomed the following evening, and Polly hurried back to deliver the invitation. Eleanor waited until she heard the conversation over the telephone resumed between the two, then she said to Mrs. Fabian:
“I bet anything, that Jack Baxter is really in love with Polly! I watched him all that time, after he was formally introduced by Mr. Dalken, and he just hung on her every word and act.”
Mrs. Fabian smiled. “That is the usual experience the young men have with Polly. I think the very fact that she is unmindful of her attractions, coupled with her indifference to the attentions of the male sex, acts as a spur to them; eachtries to see if she will not capitulate to his individual charms.”
Eleanor laughed. “You speak as if you believed the young men to be egotistical enough tothinkthey were charming.”
“They do, Nolla!” retorted Mrs. Fabian. “Every Adam’s son firmly believes he is more alluring and attractive to a girl, than his friends. That is why they all follow tamely after a girl who has no time for them: they cannot believe itpossiblethat she is not overcome with their fascinations.”
Eleanor smiled as she listened, then she remarked: “I guess I’ll try Polly’s strategy and see if the beaus line up for me.”
“You have no need to experiment with any new tricks,” replied Mrs. Fabian, warningly. “There are enough sighing young men already, waiting to break their hearts and necks, for a mere glance from those impish eyes of yours.”
Eleanor laughed merrily at her chaperone’s words, but Polly’s return to the room interrupted their little talk.
“What do you think?” demanded Polly, as soon as she was in the room.
Not giving them time to answer, she said:“Jack Baxter is going to furnish a bachelor apartment in the city, and says he is going to give Nolla and me the contract for doing it. It will be our very first work as interior decorators!”
“Oh,” gasped Eleanor, “how can we do it?”
Polly looked amazed at such a question, and retorted: “Why, with money and brains, to be sure!”
“Is that why he’s coming tomorrow evening?” asked Eleanor.
“Yes; he is now staying at Mr. Dalken’s apartment, and both of them are coming over tomorrow. He says he has been West since we last saw him, and he stopped at Pebbly Pit to see the folks, on his way back from the Coast. That is why he has not been heard from—he was called away so suddenly, and just got back today.”
“I wonder why he took all the trouble to go to Pebbly Pit?” said Eleanor. “He didn’t know a soul there!”
“That’s what I asked him, and he says he will tell us all about it tomorrow night,” explained Polly.
CHAPTER XIPOLLY’S FIRST CONTRACT
Promptly at eight, Jack Baxter and Mr. Dalken were announced to Polly and Eleanor. The Fabians had gone to the Opera and Mr. Dalken was supposed to act as chaperone for the evening.
“This is a new experience for me,” laughed he, “but not one that I dislike. In fact, I will be glad to offer my services in the same capacity, at any time, for you girls.”
“Better beware how you offer yourself on such an altar,” teased Polly, trying to appear calm and composed, whereas she was keyed up to hear about the proposed work young Baxter wished them to do for his new apartment.
Eleanor deemed it wise to mention another subject first, so she asked: “How long were you at Pebbly Pit, Mr. Baxter?”
“That’s one of the reasons we came over to see you,” interpolated Mr. Dalken. “Jack has a lot to tell you about the troubles there.”
“What troubles?” wondered Polly. “You don’t mean the land-slide, do you?”
“We know about that,” added Eleanor.
“You only heard the first news of it. But you never knew what followed that first event,” returned Mr. Dalken. “I’ve known how things stood for a short time, but I talked it over with the Latimers, and we decided to let Jack go West with Mr. Alexander, and investigate matters for themselves.”
“Dodo’s father! What has he to do with it?” asked both girls in surprise.
“More than we can ever appreciate. Because he is such an experienced old miner, having spent years in the Klondike, and later, down in the Colorado mining districts, his going to Pebbly Pit was the best thing that ever happened to our company. Jack had just decided to invest a great deal of his capital in the joint companies, so he decided to accompany Alexander and see for himself how the land lay.”
“And what was Mr. Alexander’s verdict?” asked Polly.
“Listen to Jack’s story of what happened on the mountain, that early morning. It is as thrilling as anything I ever heard,” said Mr. Dalken.
“I’d have given anything to have been on thespot when that old peak divided her earthly substance,” laughed Jack. “But even the telling of it by Tom Latimer and John Brewster, was so exciting that I tried every way possible to reach the mountain where the awful avalanche took place.
“Tom had felt a tremor run along the side of the peak the night before, and had warned John that old Grizzly was ripping mad again. So the two of them rode along the Crest where those claim-jumpers were buried the time that other avalanche occurred, and they saw that Grizzly Slide had broken up great masses of ice-field, and on the far side where it drops suddenly to the valley, thousands of feet below, a great block of ice and rock had fallen from the top-side and had rolled down, destroying everything in its terrific plunge.
“Both boys were satisfied that it was only a matter of time before the gaping crevices showing on the side towards the gold mine, would widen and the top-mass begin to move. It was impossible to say whether a slide would happen on the cave-side or roll down one of the gulleys on either side of the mine. But the two of them made up their minds that everyone must move from the camp without delay, and seek safety.
“Orders were given to strike camp at once, andthe men worked all night, packing away outfits and tools, and such machinery as could be moved inside the cave. Then the mouth was closed against winter storms, and they started, on their horses, to ride along Top Notch Trail, on the down trip.
“It was almost noon when they left the mine, and by two o’clock they halted on one of the crests to cook dinner. The horses were hobbled where a patch of Buffalo grass provided good pastureage, and Rattlesnake Mike started a fire to cook the meal. Tom and John got out their tackle to catch a few trout, when a fearful roll of thunder sounded along the crest.
“‘She come down, pooty queeck!’ exclaimed Mike, startled out of his usual calmness.
“‘Do you mean Old Grizzly?’ Tom asked him.
“But before he could reply, there was such a crash and roar, and the whole ground shook under their feet as if an earthquake had caused it. Everyone stood aghast looking at what had been snow-capped Grizzly but a moment before. So astonished were the men that they couldn’t speak.
“The roar and tumult continued so seemingly close at hand, that the men ran for their horses, and would have ridden down the trail had not Mike laughed and applied a match to the kindling,just as if nothing was happening above them on Grizzly Slide. It instantly quieted the fears of the others, and they turned again to wait for further events.
“Tom Latimer says, that what caused such a panicky feeling in them all, was the fact that one moment they had seen the glistening cap of Old Grizzly, and the next, it was gone, and a great cloud of flying white particles hid the scene for a time.
“The terrific detonation they heard immediately after the peak’s snow-cap rolled down the mountain-side, was caused by the mass of rock, ice, snow and general débris, striking the ground below. How far it fell before striking, they could not say, but Mike claims it must have been hurtled, from the peak of Grizzly, to the great gulch that runs along its lower side, about five thousand feet below—all that distance before landing and filling the ravines about that section.
“All the way down, from Grizzly Gulches to the bottoms that run along Bear Forks branches, the avalanche tore up trees, boulders, moraine, and other heavy matter, that generally forms a dam for smaller slides than this one was. But this time, entire forests were shoved along, still standing, just like a great cake of icing with fancyfrosting of colored sugar on top of it, is pushed off from a slice of birthday cake, when the knife loosens it. The moment any part of this avalanche came up against a cliff, or rolled over into vast ravines, that much of the sliding forest tumbled up against itself, or fell into the gulch to instantly fill up the cleft and cause the remaining slide to roll over it.
“The end of that avalanche did not come until it reached the valley of Bear Forks, just below Pebbly Pit ranch. If your home had not been snugly located up in that crater, but had been down in the valley by the river, it would have been completely covered with the tons of trash that still remained after having rolled for miles, and finally worn itself out on the banks of the stream.
“All the branches of Bear Forks that start up on the side of the mountain, are choked, and the waters rushed in every direction, starting smaller slides by up-rooting trees and loose stones and shale.
“The miners followed Mike’s example, and ate a hearty dinner, although they were all crazy to ride back and ascertain the extent of the damage caused. Mike was for their going quietly on home, but not one of the others would agree tothis. So they turned back and rode as far as the trail was passable. But they could not climb over the great mass of débris that was piled up, shortly after leaving Four Blaze Tree. And the queer sensation of not seeing the old familiar top on Grizzly Peak, unnerved them for further adventure that day.
“They got home past midnight, to hear the account of what happened as witnessed by Anne, and Mr. and Mrs. Brewster.
“At the first rolling of the slide, Anne ran out of the ranch-house and watched anxiously, as she knew the men were up at the mine. She saw such a strange sight that she rubbed her eyes to make sure she was not dreaming. She says, she saw the top of Old Grizzly break right off as if someone had cleft it at a given point down from the peak. And this gigantic mass of ice, still glittering in the sun-rays, toppled down until she heard the crash and roar and felt the earth shake under her feet even at that great distance from the Peak that the ranch was.
“The ranch-house and the out-buildings shook as in a quake, and caused everyone to run toward the terrace that runs along the edge of the crater. There they stood watching clouds of snow float up over the forests that, one moment were to be seen,and the next were moving swiftly down the mountain sides.
“The folks feared the men at the mine had been killed, as the avalanche was the greatest they had ever heard of in that vicinity, so Mr. Brewster rode madly to Oak Creek to get some men to go with him to see if any signs of his boys could be found.
“They met them at Lone Pine Blaze, and Tom said that John’s father sat still and sobbed like a child, with relief at finding everyone in his mining-party safe.
“So, Miss Polly, the gold mine is closed by Nature, for untold repairs. Whether this generation will ever locate the ore and dig out the tools and machinery buried in the cave, remains to be seen. But I was so infatuated with life in the Rockies during the short visit I had there, that I determined to put in all the cramming at college that was possible, and finish my education so I could go out there to join Tom Latimer and John Brewster in their exciting engineering work.”
When Jack had concluded his story, the girls seemed rather downcast at the knowledge that their little mine was gone, but Mr. Dalken said to young Baxter:
“You may as well tell them about the Cliffs, and have all the mourning over at one time.”
Polly glanced anxiously from Mr. Dalken to Jack, and then at Eleanor, but the young man explained without waiting longer: “All the miners working at Rainbow Cliffs went on a big strike shortly after the calamity on Grizzly Slide, and so unreasonable were their demands that Mr. Brewster refused to grant them. That stopped work on the lava jewels, too, and everything is closed down until next year. Of course, while there is no work going on, there are no wages to pay, but there is also no income from the vast amount of money invested in machinery.”
“Dear me, then really, I am a pauper for the time being,” exclaimed Polly, but not in a distressed tone as one would expect after such dire news.
“Your mother told me most emphatically, that that wasnotthe case. Everyone at Pebbly Pit seems to want you to continue with your studies until you have finished; and your father said there was a tidy fortune in a Denver bank for you, so that no matter what happened to others, you were amply provided for. With your business that you wish to take up, you will not have to worry over the future,” explained Jack Baxter.
Eleanor remembered that Mr. Dalken had invested heavily in these two Pebbly Pit ventures, and now she turned to him.
“Will everyone connected with those two mines lose a great deal of money?”
“Your father, the Latimers, the Evans’, myself and John Brewster hold equal shares of stock, but Polly’s father holds twice as much as anyone else, for he holds Polly’s stock as her guardian as well as his own. The Montresor Estate, representing the heirs of Kenneth’s uncle who first discovered the mine on Grizzly, and then willed it to Polly who later re-discovered the same vein of ore in the cave, hold the same number of shares in the stock-company as either of us, although they did not furnish any cash for their stock.
“Now Ebeneezer Alexander told Jack to tell us, that he simply could not stand city-life another day. And, after enjoying the freedom and open life of the Rockies again, he was determined to stay at Pebbly Pit and see the tangle worked out. His experience will be most valuable to Tom and John, who are only young engineers, after all. And Mr. Brewster is a stock-grower with no knowledge of mining. So we think it is a good plan to let Mr. Alexander take up some of ourshares, and sell him an interest in the future of these mines.
“If anyone can pull Choko’s Find Mine out of the grave it is buried in, old Ebeneezer can do it. He has such energy and perseverance that nothing daunts him—excepting big cities.”
“And titles!” added Eleanor, making her friends laugh.
“Oh, I’m glad to hear he will stay there to help. I like him so much!” declared Polly.
“Well, now that most of our evening was given to the story about the land-slide on Grizzly, how much time am I to be given for the furnishing of my apartment?” asked Jack Baxter.
“Just talking about it won’t furnish it,” retorted Polly, smilingly.
“No, but we can get at first principles, can’t we?”
“Yes; if both sides know on what basis each wishes to start!” said Eleanor.
“I know my side of it, and I really think you girls know yours. This is my basis: I have two large rooms and bath near Fifth Avenue, that I want a decorator to do in keeping with the style of the rooms. I don’t care where or how you get the items for furnishing, but I’d like some of the fun of going about with you when you visitodd corners of the country to dig up the antiques.”
“If you waste your time that way, how do you expect to finish a hurried education in engineering?” asked Polly.
“Oh, furnishing won’t last long, and studying will.”
“If Mr. Dalken is a conscientious executor of your estate I should think he’d forbid your wasting any time hunting up furniture and hiring decorators to do it for you, at the same time,” teased Eleanor.
Mr. Dalken laughed and said: “I always said ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’”
“Well, Jack can work for two whole weeks before he gets any play, as far as going to a sale is concerned. There will be no sale, that we know of, until the old house at Parsippany is sold in two weeks,” explained Polly.
“I won’t have to wait as long as that, I hope, for my apartment. I’m paying rent on it already, and am stopping with Mr. Dalken as his guest, until I get a bed and a chair.”
“But I thought you wanted to furnish by going to the sales of antiques,” ventured Polly.
“I did, but I want to go to one tomorrow. Can’t you girls contract to escort me to places in the city where we can get things without waiting?”
“As far as that is concerned, we can take you right over to the Ashby Shop and find everything on earth you can use, right in his collections,” said Polly.
“I wanted to feel that you two girls were getting this contract and the profits, and not a famous establishment,” demurred Jack.
“We’ll have the contract, all right, but we will only buy what we need from Mr. Ashby, at regular discount, you know,” explained Eleanor in a business-like manner.
Mr. Dalken smiled indulgently on his two young friends who had developed such marvelous aptitude for business since their trip abroad that summer. And young Baxter concluded with: “All right; tomorrow, you girls get Mrs. Fabian, and come over to my rooms to get your ‘atmosphere.’ Then we’ll start in and shop.”
So the next ten days were filled with a great many visits to the apartment to determine certain colors and styles of things, and with a great deal of important conferring between the client and the decorators. But eventually, the apartment was almost ready for its occupant, and three young people declared that the decorating was a work of art—simply perfect! And it did not cost soverymuch, either! Mr. Dalken reservedhis opinion on costs, however, and laughed in his sleeve at Baxter, for the latter had no more need of an apartment than a cat has for two tails. It was a whim of his to give the girls a contract, and Jack could afford whims, so his guardian said nothing about the bills.
“Well, I must say,” said Polly the day after Jack held a “house-warming” in his newly furnished domain, “I never saw ten days go by as fast as these did. Here we are almost on top of that sale in the country, and it seems like yesterday that we got the announcement.”
“It shows how much we really love our profession,” said Eleanor, “when we get so much pleasure out of work.”
But Dodo was present at some of the conferences the two amateur decorators held with Jack and she now remarked: “Work! did you two think that going about in Jack’s sporty car and lunching at swell dining-rooms, or holding up a strip of gold-gauze to watch the sheen on your hand, was hard work?”
Mrs. Fabian laughed to herself at the conversation. But Polly answered with an experienced air: “When you have had years of study in decorating, like Nolla and I have had, you will find that work is not altogether a physical effort. Atpresent, in your apprenticeship, you do more than you saw us do in furnishing, but you’ll learn, some day!”
Dodo tossed her head confidently, and remarked: “I have nothing more to learn—if your knowledge is the acme of the understanding of your trade.”
As no reply was given this statement, Mrs. Fabian hurried from the room to laugh quietly to herself at the egotism of youth. Later when Mr. Ashby was told the story, he said:
“When they have been at the profession for thirty years, and have acquired all the knowledge that I have in that time, they will begin to learn that we all know very little of harmony and perfect ideals in decorating.”
CHAPTER XIITHE PARSIPPANY VENDUE
It was a lovely late Fall day when Carl brought Mr. Dalken’s car around to the Fabian’s residence to drive the girls to the Parsippany sale. Jack Baxter was seated beside Carl and announced to the girls as they came out with Mrs. Fabian: “I’m invited to go with you.”
“Who asked you?” was the rejoinder from both girls.
“Carl did. He gets tired of chauffing for hours without rest. So I offered to help him out.”
Of course, Carl’s uncomfortable flush showed that Jack was joking, but he was a welcome addition to the small party, so they started off, a merry quartette.
As there had been no time to drive out, so far, to inspect the household goods for sale, it had been postponed until the day of the sale. Mrs.Fabian said that should there be nothing desirable at the old house, they could go on and have another hunt about the country.
But the sale promised to be an interesting one, for the moment the girls found out that the house they were looking for was an old Colonial two-story farm-house, with wings at each side, they felt sure of its contents being worth-while.
They parked the car out in a large carriage-house and walked over to the front door. It was a true type, with sunburst window over the door, and a wonderful old knocker on the front panel of the door. A narrow high window at each side had diamond panes in them. There was a dear little hood over the doorway that someone called a “rain-shed.” And on each side of the “stoop” which was reached by three steps, was a high-backed wooden seat, with funny low arms at the outer ends.
The windows of the entire house were filled with small-paned sash, the glass being green and wavy in some panes, and as cloudy as mist in others. Then again other panes were of really clear white glass. The city visitors found later, that these old panes were the original old glass set in by the first owner.
But they did not come to admire the outside,so they all went indoors to look about. They entered upon a tiny entry.
The front parlor was a small band-box-like room with a chimney piece at one side, and a stove-pipe hole in it for winter use. Alongside the chimney was a narrow cupboard that was meant to hold books, or other things, to keep the parlor from being “cluttered up.”
Directly opposite the chimney was a long, high-backed settee, with haircloth covering. The frame was old mahogany and the shape hinted at Chippendale, with its six feet having beautiful lines, and the side arms curving graciously out to invite one to be seated.
In this best room were, also, several rush-bottomed stencilled chairs, and a Boston Rocker. An inlaid Hepplewhite table stood against the wall between the two front windows, with its drop-leaf raised against the wall. A number of old pieces of brass and pewter stood on the table. Over it hung an early Georgian mirror but the reflection one got when gazing into it was terrifying.
From the parlor, the collectors went to the long living-room that occupied one wing of the house. Here was a great open fire-place with crane, and everything used in olden times forkeeping a fire in good order. Over the mantel hung a wonderful old mirror with a colored picture of Washington crossing the Delaware in its upper panel.
A rare Empire table with both leaves up, stood in the middle of the room, and Polly instantly made up her mind to own that table, if nothing more that day.
As they went about admiring the antiques, Jack said: “Gee! But I’m sorry we furnished the apartment so soon. What a lot of fine things we might have had at this sale.”
And Eleanor laughingly remarked: “Sell your flat out like so many New Yorkers do, and start in again on another.”
In the low-ceiled, wide dining-room, they found the typical round mahogany table with twelve chairs—two arm and ten side chairs. The seats were covered with rep, but must have had haircloth on them at one time. The backs were very low and curved away from the small of the back in a frightened manner. There was but one cross-piece in the back and that was curved also.
The side-board was nearly eight feet long, with six claw feet, and a high top. On it stood a tea-caddy of mahogany, a knife-box, and several silver boxes. All of them must have been over ahundred years old. Very old china and glassware stood on the large table, ready to be sold. The collectors saw many desirable pieces there, but they were too anxious to visit the upstairs to stop, then, and examine the plates and other pieces.
There were four large square rooms on the second floor and in each one, stood a wonderful four-poster bed—two with canopy-tops and two without. Empire work-tables were in two rooms, and besides the high chests of mahogany drawers, and low dressing-tables with tiny front drawers to hold the comb and brush, there were also ottomans, foot-stools, and ornamental pieces. Mirrors hung over each mantel, and old-fashioned prints and paintings were on the walls.
By the time Mrs. Fabian and the girls went downstairs again, they were dumbfounded to find that a farm-house so near to Morristown and railroad stations, should have preserved such a wonderful lot of old mahogany furniture without having been discovered by collectors. But being strangers to the other people now gathering for the sale, they did not speak of their wonderment.
Mr. Van Styne was late, and as soon as he arrived he began in the kitchen, without any greetingto his followers. There seemed to be a far different type of buyer at this sale, than the girls had found at any of the little sales in Westchester; and once the auctioneer began on the antique pieces, the prices ran up alarmingly.
“That man standing over there just paid a hundred and sixty dollars for that Colonial secretary,” whispered Polly, annoyance expressed in her tone for she had been bidding on the same piece.
“He doesn’t look as if he had sixty cents in his purse,” said Eleanor, scornfully.
A lady standing beside her, looked at the buyer and smiled. “That man is one of the buyers of one of the largest antique collectors in New York.”
“He is!” gasped Eleanor.
“Who is the collector?” asked Polly, but the woman saw a little Toby put up for sale, just then, and she wanted to bid on it, so Polly never heard.
Anything that could boast of being a hundred years old, or more, brought fabulous prices, and the girls were amazed to hear names that they had read of in the columns of the New York papers, called out by the cashier, but never dreamed they would come face to face with the owners thereof.
Jack Baxter spied a woman he knew, and finally brought her over to meet Mrs. Fabian and the girls. This lady was a social leader in the City, and furnished much interesting information to her new acquaintances, about others present who were buying.
That sale taught Polly that it was not always the farm-houses that furnished the rarest bargains at a sale, especially when that farm was in proximity to a well-known residential suburb. But she also found that not everyone who attends a public sale, and bids anxiously, knows the value of what they are bidding on.
Thus it transpired, that she secured several of the finest antiques in the house, because others knew nothing of their true records or had overlooked the objects because of their unattractive finish or form.
Jack furnished much amusement to his friends by bidding on everything the girls did not want. And the most amusing part of it was, he seldom secured a thing he bid on. He finally grew so desperate in his bidding, because Polly laughed at his luck, that the people frowned upon him as being a “professional capper.”
Mr. Van Styne overheard that remark and was furious.
“I want you all to know that I am an honest auctioneer! I never had a booster in my life, and I’ve sold for nigh onto fifty years. That nice-looking young man you call a ‘capper’ is a friend of some friends of mine from New York, out here to buy antiques. To prove it to you-all, that young lady there, next the young man, is the one who gave the ‘Metropolitan’ the rare print she found in my shop. So there! I reckon that will hold you, for a time!”
The surprise felt by the buyers at this news about Polly, was instantly followed by a general laugh at the auctioneer’s final remark to them. Baxter laughed at the interruption, but Polly felt very uncomfortable with so many eyes turned her way. Mr. Van Styne, never dreaming of having made personal remarks, now continued his sale.
The antique furniture in the upstairs chambers brought higher prices than Polly had seen similar pieces on sale at the antique shops in New York, and she wondered still more that a country auction should bring forth buyers who were willing to pay such high prices.
Finally, feeling sure that there were no more bargains for them that day, Polly led the way downstairs. Young Baxter tried to persuade her to remain and try for a high-boy she had admired,but she refused to give the high bids demanded. So Jack stayed when the others left the room.
Down on the side-porch, while waiting for Carl to come from the carriage sheds, a well-dressed lady accosted Polly.
“I heard the auctioneer say you presented a rare print to the Museum in New York City. I should be pleased to hear about it.”
She handed Polly a card. Upon reading the name of one of the best known amateur collectors in New York, Polly forgot to reply. Mrs. Fabian smiled and spoke for her, to give her time to recover from her surprise. After introducing the girls, Mrs. Fabian mentioned the fact that Polly and Eleanor took advantage of every sale in or about the City, in order to familiarize themselves with such articles as they would need in their profession.
“Oh, are you studying this line of work?” asked the lady, deeply interested at once.
“Yes, we have given several years to the study, already, and last Summer we went abroad to visit the best known places where antiques and collections were to be seen,” replied Polly.
“Well then, my dears, this is my lucky day. I want someone to do this sort of work for me, butI want only such interested individuals who love the collecting for itself, and not alone for wages. Also, I want someone who can tell a Sheraton piece from Empire. If you girls will accept a proposition from me, I will be glad to talk it over, some morning, with you.”
Polly smiled and said: “If your orders do not interfere with our studies and other work, we will gladly accept the work.”
So, by the time Jack Baxter hurried down the stairs, Polly and Eleanor had made a new connection with one of New York’s social leaders. Jack looked about for his friends, for a moment, and then smiled in surprise as he rushed forward.
“Why, Mrs. Courtney! I am delighted to see you here. Did you just arrive?”
“Well, if it isn’t Jack Baxter! No, my boy, I came out this morning thinking this was abona fideantique sale. To my disgust, I found it was ‘fixed’ by a clever dealer from the city, who chooses just such suburban towns as are famous for its millionaire residents, then he plans a campaign. He was wise enough, this time, to engage Mr. Van Styne to do the selling for him, as the old man is so popular with the people of his town, and he is a splendid auctioneer, at the same time.”
Polly was dumbfounded. “Do you mean tosay that anyone would take the trouble to ship out all these antiques, so far from the city, just to catch a lot of buyers?”
Mrs. Courtney laughed. “Of course, my dear. People will take any amount of trouble to make a few extra dollars. This dealer owns his own trucks, and why not let them put in a day’s work carting a load of furniture here, if he can get twice as much for his goods as in New York? All he has to do, is to find the right type of old house conveniently near the city for motoring and large enough to show off his wares to the best advantage. This man is clever enough, too, to select only such places as are rich with Revolutionary lore, and near enough to the estates of the rich to be an attraction to owners to come. Then he mails announcements to his city clientele, also. That is how I heard of the sale.”
Jack frowned angrily. “I suppose that darned old high-boy I just bought for a top-notch figure, could have been purchased at this man’s city shop for half the price! Now I have to pay to have it crated and shipped back to New York.”
“Oh, this ‘fixer’ will move it back in his trucks for a neat sum,” said Eleanor.
Her companions laughed. Polly then remindedhim: “I saidnotto bid on it! I knew it would go too high for us to bother with.”
Carl now drove up to the house, and Mrs. Courtney bid them good-day, having reminded Polly that she and Eleanor were to telephone her at their first opportunity.
Polly could not help speaking of the “fixed” sale of antiques, and Eleanor said: “That is why everything brought such awfully high prices. The articles must have had a set price on them to begin with, and when Mr. Van Styne offered a thing, the dealer was there to run it to a figure beyond the given price on the books. I am surprised that the old auctioneer would do such a thing.”
“I don’t believe he knew the sale was what we call ‘padded’; for he seems too conscientious a man to lend himself to such a deception,” remarked Mrs. Fabian.
“If he was just hired to sell the stuff, regardless of how it got out to Parsippany, and told to follow book-orders, he had no choice, had he?” asked Polly.
“He looks such an honest old fellow, I don’t believe he even knew the goods came from a New York dealer. Just because heisso honest, is onereason why people who knew him will listen to his advice and for the same reason a clever New York dealer would hire him. I wouldn’t be surprised, if you girls hear from him, some day, to the effect that he is shocked to learn that this sale was not on the level as far as the yarn went,” said Jack.
“Well, I’d feel better if he did. I really feel hurt, now, to think he might be as tricky as that other dealer,” said Polly.
“But it would not be called ‘tricky,’ Polly, in clever business circles,” said Mrs. Fabian.
“Maybe not, but to me it looks a lot like selling goods under false representations. I’d rather not sell anything than have to sell that way.”
“When you come right down to ‘brass tacks’ and study out the whole scheme of things, Polly, we might be accused of tricky works, too,” remarked Eleanor.
“What do you mean?” demanded Polly, astonished.
“Well, when you think of how we got that pair of old candle-sticks in exchange for a brass lamp! We had no lamp to exchange, but Mrs. Fabian rushed off to a store and got one. Then there were those old pictures at Van Styne’s. We were afraid he’d suspect them of being valuable, so wedusted them well again, as they had been originally, and placed them with two others to make a ‘job lot’ of them, to hide the facts about them.”
“But,” remonstrated Polly, “the lady who had no use for the candle-sticksdidwant a brass lamp the worst way. And Sally Dolan, who never appreciated the pictures when she had them,didappreciate the money we paid for them—while we appreciated the old things other folks failed to value.”
“Polly is right, there, Nolla,” added Mrs. Fabian. “I do not see a trick in giving a person exactly what they ask for a thing—whether they realize the true value of it, or not. That is their affair. In Law, the Judge says there is no excuse or cause, for mitigating a sentence because the prisoner claims he was ignorant of consequences of a deed. So it is in other lines: Ignorance can never claim excuse from consequences—whether it be a sale of a candle-stick or a piece of old land that turns out to have gold on it.”
“Then I should say, ignorance on the part of the buyers at this vendue, exonerates the dealer from all blame,” said Eleanor.
“Legally it does, but we were thinking of the moral,” explained Mrs. Fabian.
When the collectors reached the Fabian house,Jack seemed loath to go on, so Mrs. Fabian invited him in to have a bite with them at an informal dinner.
It had been plainly evident for some time, that the only interest Jack Baxter had taken in furnishing his apartment, or in going about to hunt out old antiques, was because it gave him plenty of opportunities to be with Polly. And as is often the case, when one is completely absorbed in a pursuit, Polly was the last one to suspect the truth of this.
But he forgot discretion that evening, at dinner, and permitted too much of his attention to be directed Polly’s way. Even this might have been overlooked had not an interruption occurred while at the table.
The telephone bell was heard, and shortly afterward, the maid came around to Polly’s side and said:
“A Mr. Latimer on the wire, Miss Polly.”
Eleanor was all interest at once: “Can it be Jim, or Tom, I wonder?”
Polly was excusing herself at the moment, but turned to add: “You know very well that Tom has his hands full at the mines.”
Eleanor flushed, for she had almost given away a secret that Paul had told her in his last letter.Thus far she had kept quiet about the confidence.
Polly ran from the room, and Jack Baxter scowled at his plate. Mr. Fabian smiled at his face and tried to engage him in conversation. But Polly’s continued absence annoyed the youth, so that he lost his appetite, and, in fact, all interest in any subject started.
Polly skipped back after a time, her face wreathed in smiles. “You will never guess who I was talking to?”
Everyone but Jack pretended not to know, but he blurted out: “When I was out at the ranch, that Tom Latimer said something about coming East for the Winter months—as long as Alexander proposed to stay out there and take a hand in the work.”
“Why, this is the first word you’ve said about it,” said Polly, amazed.
“Had I known you were so deeply interested in the plans of young Latimer, I would have told you immediately,” said Jack, with sarcasm born of jealousy in his voice.
Polly refused to answer him, and immediately asked Mrs. Fabian to excuse her from dinner as she wished to dress for the evening.
The rest of the family finished the meal with the uncomfortable sense of Jack’s having lostcaste in Polly’s estimation. He felt it himself, and it certainly did not tend to make him more agreeable that evening.
As soon after dinner as could be politely managed, Jack spoke of a theatre engagement and excused himself. His hostesses felt easier when the door slammed upon him, for they dreaded having Tom announced while his rival was there, and then have the whole evening spoiled by both young men glowering at each other.
While Eleanor and Nancy ran upstairs to dress for the evening, the former whispered: “If Tom remains in New York all this winter, I bet he’llgetPolly before he goes back to the mines, or else he’ll ‘cook his goose’ for all time!”
Nancy laughed merrily, and said: “No goose will be cooked if Polly knows it! But I’ll wager you a box of candy, Nolla, that Tom willnotget his girl before he goes back to the mines.”
“All right, Nanc! That’s a wager; a five-pound box of the bestbon bons, that Tom and Polly will be engaged before the end of this winter season!”