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"Our luggage? How about that?" inquired Mr. Stott. "It will follow." Wallie opened the stage-coach door as a further hint. "I want to get some snap-shots of the town," said Mr. Penrose, who had his camera and a pair of field-glasses slung over his shoulder. "What an experience this will be to write home!" gushed Miss Gaskett. "Let's stop at the office and mail post-cards."
"Lost her?" "Coyotes." "They would have eaten her?" Miss Gaskett nodded. "Undoubteely. They were thick as anything. They howled hideously every morning before sunrise, and it was not safe to leave one's tent at night without a weapon." "Whew!" Mr. Cone's lips puckered in a whistle. His astonishment inspired Miss Gaskett to continue: "Yes, indeed!
And once when I was out walking ever so far from everybody I met one face to face. My first impulse was to run, but I thought if I did so it might attack me, so, trying not to show that I was frightened, I picked up a stick, and just then " Seeing that Mr. Cone's gaze wandered, Miss Gaskett paused to learn the cause of it. She flushed as she found that Mrs.
Miss Gaskett "heeled" Wallie with flattering faithfulness and incidentally imparted the information that a friend from Zanesville, Ohio, Miss Mercy Lane was to join their party in Prouty when the date was definitely set for their tour of the Yellowstone. "She's a dear, sweet girl whom I knew at boarding-school, and," archly, "you must tell me that you will not fall in love with her."
Penrose looked disconcerted for a moment, and then that presence of mind of which he boasted came to his assistance and he said ingratiatingly: "This young lady will vouch for the fact that my clothes were in shreds ribbons " "Why er yes, you had lost your shirt bosom," Miss Gaskett agreed, doubtfully. Remarking that he would finish the story when Mr. Cone had more leisure, Mr.
Gripping his nose and jaw, I had doubled up my leg and thrust my knee into his stomach, which was of course cruel punishment when, just then " A slight cough made Mr. Penrose turn quickly. Miss Mattie Gaskett, whose eyes were nearly as large as Mr. Cone's at this version of the encounter, was standing behind him with "Cutie" in a wicker basket. Mr.
Miss Gaskett, who looked like a returned missionary that had had a hard time of it carrying the Light into the dark places, seemed rather elated than depressed at the aspersions cast upon her character, and by the time they reached the "Paint Pots" she was flaunting Mr.
Miss Gaskett beckoned him. "Have you seen Cutie, Wallie?" "No," curtly. "When I called her this morning she looked at me with eyes like saucers and simply tore into the bushes. Do you suppose anybody has abused her?" Mr. Cone, who was standing in the doorway, went back to his desk hastily. "I'm not in her confidence," said Wallie with so much sarcasm that they all looked at him.
"For twelve years I have been pretending not to know that you used the hotel soap to do your washing in the bath-tub, and it is a relief to mention it to you. "And, Miss Gaskett," the deadly coldness of his voice made her shiver, "I doubt if the fuzz under your bed has troubled you as much as the fact that for three summers your cat has had kittens in the linen closet has annoyed me."
As a matter of course they expected his wife to accompany him, but what they had not known was that Miss Gaskett had been put in Mrs. Appel's charge by her parents and in the light of her indiscreet conduct with Mr. Stott it was deemed best that she should return with them.
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