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Updated: June 2, 2025
"What would father say, if he knew about it?" But fortunately Captain Rugley was not at hand with his suspicions. Frances wished to believe the young man from Amarillo truly her friend; and on this ride toward Peckham's they became better acquainted than before. That is, the girl of the ranges learned to know Pratt better.
He too had regretted parting with the property, and to my relief assented. Once more I spent nearly a year ranging about the whole western country, looking into different propositions, and again I came back to Amarillo, again was impressed with the desirability of the same lots, and actually demanded of the still more astonished owner if he would sell them to me.
Fortunately, a herd of steers, crossing from one of the extreme southern ranges of the Bar-T to the north where juicier grass grew, attracted the attention of the guest from Amarillo. "Are those all yours, Frances?" he asked, when he saw the mass of dark bodies and tossing horns that appeared through rifts in the dust cloud that accompanies a driven herd even over sod-land.
Her diatribes about Frances and the old Captain were not to be easily forgotten by the girl from Boston. Not so much was she smitten because of her unkindness; but she felt that she had played the fool! Her friends from Amarillo must be quietly laughing in secret over what Sue had said regarding the uncouthness of the Captain and the lack of breeding of the "Cattle Queen."
Anyhow, our big duck wants to forget the time he was wearing a mask and bending a six-gun for a living. Also and moreover, he's right anxious to have other folks get a chance to forget. From what I can hear he's clean mashed on some girl at Amarillo, or maybe it's Fort Lincoln. See what a twist Strove's got on him if he can slip into the Mal Pais country on the q. t."
A momentous event of 1910 was the death of King Edward VII., which threw everybody into deep mourning; and it seemed to me Englishwomen never looked so well as when dressed in black. In the autumn I started for New York and Amarillo.
For the last time the curtain was lowered and then rose again. On the screen was pictured Amarillo as it is to-day. First a panorama of the town and its outskirts. Then "stills" of its principal buildings, and its principal citizens.
She could credit Pratt with natural curiosity; but if her father had seen that act he would have been quite convinced that the young man from Amarillo was concerned in the attempt to get the treasure. It was shortly thereafter that the trail grew rough. Some heavy wagon-train must have gone this way lately.
The young fellow talked more freely of himself, his mother, his circumstances. "Just because I'm in a bank the Merchants' and Drovers' in Amarillo doesn't mean that I'm wealthy," laughed Pratt Sanderson. "They don't give me any great salary, and I couldn't afford this vacation if it wasn't for the extra work I did through the cattle-shipping season and the kindness of our president.
It had passed right over a crowded football stadium at Santa Fe, New Mexico, and people in Denver said it "turned night into day." The crew of a TWA airliner flying into Albuquerque from Amarillo, Texas, saw it. Every police and newspaper switchboard in the two-state area was jammed with calls. One of the calls was from a man inquiring if anything unusual had happened recently.
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