Going Some | Page 9

his buck-board and two figures prepare to descend.
"It's Mr. Speed!" cried Miss Blake. Then she uttered a scream as the velvet darkness was rent by a dozen tongues of flame, while a shrill yelping arose, as of an Apache war-party.
"It's the boys," said Jean. "What on earth has possessed them?"
But Stover had planned no ordinary reception, and the pandemonium did not cease until the men had emptied their weapons.
Then Mr. J. Wallingford Speed came stumbling up the steps and into the arms of his friends, the tails of his dust-coat streaming.
"Really? This is more than I expected," he gasped; then turning, doffed his straw hat to the half-revealed figures beyond the light, and cried, gayly: "Thank you, gentlemen! Thank you for missing me!"
"Yow--ee!" responded the cowboys.
"How do you do, Miss Chapin!" Speed shook hands with his hostess, and in the radiance from the open doorway she saw that his face was round and boyish, and his smile peculiarly engaging.
She welcomed him appropriately; then said: "This reception is quite as startling to us as to you. You know, Mr. Speed, that we have with us a friend of yours." She slightly drew Helen forward. "And this is Mrs. Keap, who is looking after us a bit while mother is away. Roberta, may I present Mr. Covington's friend, and ask you to be good to him?"
"Don't forget me," said Fresno, pushing into the light.
"Mr. Berkeley Fresno, of Leland Stanford University."
"Hello, Frez!" Speed thrust out his hand warmly. Not so the Californian. He replied, with hauteur:
"Fresno! F-r-e-s-n-o"; and allowed the new-comer to grasp a limp, moist hand.
"Ah! Go to the head of the class! I'm sorry you broke your wrist, however." The Eastern lad spoke lightly, and gave the palm a hearty squeeze, then turned to Jean.
"I dare say you are all disappointed, Miss Chapin, that Culver didn't come with me, but he'll be along in a day or so. I simply couldn't wait." He avoided glancing at Helen Blake, whose answering blush was lost in the darkness.
"I did think when you drove up that might be Mr. Covington with you," Miss Chapin remarked, wistfully.
"Oh no, that's my man." Speed glanced around him. "And, by-the- way, where is he?"
The sound of angry voices came through the gloom, then out into the light came Still Bill Stover, Willie, and Carara, dragging between them a globular person who was rebelling loudly.
"Stover, what is this?" questioned Miss Chapin, stepping to the edge of the veranda.
"This gent stampedes in the midst of our welcome," explained the foreman, "so we have to rope him before he gets away." It was seen now that Carara's lariat was tightly drawn about the new arrival's waist.
Then the valet broke into coherent speech, but he spoke a tongue not common to his profession.
"Nix on that welcome stuff," he burst forth, in husky, alcoholic accents; "that goes on the door-mat!" It was plain that he was very angry. "If that racket means welcome, I don't want it. Take that clothes-line off of me." Carara loosened the noose, and his captive rolled up the steps mopping his face with his handkerchief.
"What made you run away?" demanded Speed.
"Any time a bunch of bandits unhitch their gats, I'm on my way," sputtered the fat man. "I'm gun-shy, see? And when this hold-up comes off I beat it till that Cuban rummy with the medals on his dicer rides a live horse up my back."
"You don't appreciate the honor," explained his employer; then turning to the others, he announced: "Will you allow me to introduce Mr. Lawrence Glass? He isn't really a valet, you know, Miss Chapin, and he doesn't care for the West yet. It is his first trip."
"I have heard my brother speak of Larry Glass," said Jean, graciously.
Mr. Glass courtesied awkwardly, and swinging his right foot back of his left, tapped the floor with his toe. "You were a trainer at Yale when Jack was there?"
"That's me," Mr. Glass wheezed. "I'm there with the big rub, too. Wally said he was going to train during vacation, so he staked me to a trip out here, and I came along to look after him."
"Come into the house," said Jean. "Stover will see to your baggage."
As they entered, Mr. Berkeley Fresno saw the late arrival bend over Helen Blake, and heard him murmur:
"The same unforgettable eyes of Italian blue."
And Mr. Fresno decided to dislike Wally Speed, even if it required an effort.

CHAPTER IV
It was on the following morning that Miss Blake made bold to request her favor from J. Wallingford Speed. They had succeeded in isolating themselves upon the vine-shaded gallery at the rear of the house, and the conversation had been largely of athletics, but this, judging from the rapt expression of the girl, was a subject of surpassing interest. Speed, quick to take a