"I must say that you two have chosen a fine pastoral scene!" observed
Mr. Boltwood.
"Hhhhhhhhow did you get here?" gasped Claire.
"Auto 'bus over Blewett Pass, train here from Ellensburg. That
woman--everything all right?"
"Yes, everything's fine. We were just starting back, sir," implored
Milt.
"Huh!"
"Awfully sorry, sir, to take Claire on such a hike----"
"I don't blame you particularly. When that young woman gets an idea into
her head, the rest of us are pawns. Why, even me--she's dragged me all
over the Rocky Mountains. And I will admit, Claire, that it's been good
for me. But I begin to feel human again, and I think it's about time I
took charge. We'll catch the afternoon train for Seattle, Claire. The
trip has been extremely interesting, but I think perhaps we'll call it
enough. Daggett, want to get you to drive the Gomez on to Seattle. Beach
tells me your car is completely wrecked. Lose any money in it?"
"No, sir. Had my roll in the bug. I'll have to go back to it and get
some clothes out of it, though."
"Well, then, will you drive my car in? Charge me anywhere up to fifty
dollars, if you want to----"
"I'd rather not----"
"It's a perfectly honest job--I'd do it, too quick! Or if your
confounded pride won't let you charge anything, bring the car on anyway.
Come, dolly, I have a jitney here, please observe my graceful use of
'jitney,' and I have the bags. We'll hustle to the station now. No! No
arguments, chick!"
On the station platform, Claire and Milt were under the surveillance of
Mr. Boltwood, who was extremely irritable as every two minutes the train
was reported to be two minutes later. They tramped up and down, speaking
in lowered voices, very meek but in their joint naughtiness very
intimate.
"That was a nice place to end a transcontinental drive--in the back yard
of Mr. Johnny Kloh, with an unrestricted view of tin cans!" lamented
Claire.
"Still, your drive didn't end at Kloh's; it ended way up in the
mountains."
Mr. Boltwood bumbled down on them: "Another minute late! Like to know
what the matter is!"
"Yes, father!"
When Mr. Boltwood's impatiently waiting back was turned, Claire gripped
Milt's hand, and whispered to him, "You see, I'm captured! I thought I
was father's lord and chauffeur, but he sniffs the smoke of the ticker.
In his mind, he's already back in the office, running things. He'll
probably turn me over to Jeff, for disciplining! You won't let them
change me back into a pink-face, will you? Come to tea, at the Gilsons',
just as soon as you reach Seattle."
"Tea---- Now we're so near your Gilsons, I begin to get scared. Wouldn't
know what to do. Gee, I've heard you have to balance a tea-cup and a
sandwich and a hunk o' cake and a lot of conversation all at once! I'd
spill the tea, and drop crumbs, and probably have the butler set on me."