LITMIR.BIZ

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– "

      "Oh, bother society! I hate it."

      "True," he agreed; "it's a regular treadmill when it has enslaved one, and keeps you going on and on without progressing a bit. The object of society is to tire you out and keep you from indulging in any other occupation."

      "You know nothing about it," observed Patsy, demurely, "and that is why you love to rail at society. The things you know, Daddy dear, are the things you never remark upon."

      "Huh!" grunted the Major, and relapsed into silence.

      Mumbles had finished his after-dinner nap and was now awakening to activity. This dog's size, according to the Major, was "about 4x6; but you can't tell which is the 4 and which the 6." He was distressingly shaggy. Patsy could find the stump of his tail only by careful search. Seldom were both eyes uncovered by hair at the same time. But, as his new mistress had said, he was a wise little dog for one who had only known the world for a few months, and his brain was exceedingly alert. After yawning at the fire he rubbed his back against the Major's legs, sat up beside Patsy and looked at her from one eye pleadingly. Next he trotted over to Uncle John. The big white handkerchief attracted him and one corner hung down from the edge of the reclining chair. Mumbles sat up and reached for it, but could not quite get it in his teeth. So he sat down and thought it over, and presently made a leap so unexpectedly agile that Patsy roared with merriment and even the Major grinned. Uncle John, aroused, sat up and found the puppy rolling on the floor and fighting the handkerchief as if it had been some deadly foe.

      "Thank goodness," sighed the Major. "The little black rascal has providently prevented you from evolving another idea."

      "Not so," responded Mr. Merrick amiably. "I've thought the thing all out, and completed our programme."

      "Is it still to be California?" anxiously inquired Patsy.

      "Of course. I can't give up the sunshine and roses, you know. But we won't bore the Major by four solid days of railway travel. We'll break the journey, and take two or three weeks to it – perhaps a month."

      "Conquering Caesar! A month!" ejaculated the old soldier, a desperate look on his face.

      "Yes. Listen, both of you. We'll get to Chicago in a night and a day. We will stop off there and visit the stockyards, and collect a few squeals for souvenirs."

      "No, we won't!" declared Patsy, positively.

      "We might sell Mumbles to some Chicago sausage factory," remarked the Major, "but not for two whole dollars. He wouldn't make more than half a pound at twenty cents the pound."

      "There are other sights to be seen in Chicago," continued Uncle John. "Anyhow, we'll stop off long enough to get rested. Then on to Denver and Pike's Peak."

      "That sounds good," said Patsy.

      "At Denver," said Uncle John, "we will take a touring car and cross the mountains in it. There are good roads all the way from there to California."

      "Who told you so?" demanded the Major.

      "No one. It's a logical conclusion, for I've lived in the West and know the prairie roads are smoother than boulevards. However, Haggerty told me the other day that he has made the trip from Denver to Los Angeles by automobile, and what others can do, we can do."

      "It will be glorious!" prophesied Patsy, delightedly.

      The Major looked grave, but could find no plausible objection to offer. He really knew nothing about the West and had never had occasion to consider such a proposition before.

      "We'll talk to Haggerty," he said. "But you must remember he's a desperate liar, John, and can't be trusted as a guidepost. When do you intend to start?"

      "Why not to-morrow?" asked Uncle John mildly.

      Even Patsy demurred at this.

      "Why, we've got to get ready, Uncle," she said. "And who's going? Just we three?"

      "We will take Beth along, of course." Beth was Elizabeth De Graf, another niece. "But Beth is fortunately the sort of girl who can pull up stakes and move on at an hour's notice."

      "Beth is always ready for anything," agreed Patsy. "But if we are going to a warm climate we will need summer clothes."

      "You can't lug many clothes in a motor car," observed the Major.

      "No; but we can ship them on ahead."

      "Haggerty says," remarked Uncle John, "that you won't need thin clothes until you get out to California. In fact, the mountain trip is rather cool. But it's perpetual sunshine, you know, even there, with brisk, keen air; and the whole journey, Haggerty says, is one of absolute delight."

      "Who is Haggerty?" asked Patsy.

      "A liar," answered the Major, positively.

      "He's a very good fellow whom we sometimes meet in the city," said Uncle John. "Haggerty is on the Board, and director in a bank or two, and quite respectable. But the Major – "

      "The Major's going to California just to prove that Haggerty can't speak the truth," observed that gentleman, tersely heading off any threatened criticism. "I see there is no opposing your preposterous scheme, John, so we will go with you and make the best of it. But I'm sure it's all a sad mistake. What else did Haggerty tell you?"

      "He says it's best to pick up a motor car and a chauffeur in Denver, rather than ship them on from here. There are plenty of cars to be had, and men who know every inch of the road."

      "That seems sensible," declared Patsy, "and we won't lose time waiting for our own car to follow by freight. I think, Uncle John, I can be ready by next Tuesday."

      "Why, to-morrow's Saturday!" gasped the Major. "The business – "

      "Cut the business off short," suggested his brother-in-law. "You've to cut it somewhere, you know, or you'll never get away; and, as it's my business, I hereby authorize you to neglect it from this moment until the day of our return. When we get back you can pick up the details again and worry over it as much as you please."

      "Will we ever get back?" asked the Major, doubtingly.

      "If we don't, the business won't matter."

      "That's the idea," cried Patsy, approvingly. "Daddy has worked hard all summer, Uncle John, looking after that annoying money of yours, and a vacation will do him oodles of good."

      Major Doyle sighed.

      "I misdoubt the wisdom of the trip," said he, "but I'll go, of course, if you all insist. Over the Rocky Mountains and across the Great American Desert in an automobile doesn't sound very enticing, but – "

      "Haggerty says – "

      "Never mind Haggerty. We'll find out for ourselves."

      "And, after all," said Patsy, "there are the sunshine and roses at the end of the journey, and they ought to make up for any amount of bother in getting there."

      "Girl, you're attempting to deceive me – to deceive your old Daddy," said the Major, shaking his head at her. "You wouldn't have any fun riding to California in a palace car; even the sunshine and roses couldn't excite you under such circumstances; but if there's a chance for adventure – a chance to slide into trouble and make a mighty struggle to get out again – both you and that wicked old uncle of yours will jump at it. I know ye both. And that's the real reason we're going to travel in an automobile instead of progressing comfortably as all respectable people do."

      "You're a humbug," retorted Mr. Merrick. "You wouldn't go by train if

      I'd let you."

      "No," admitted the Major; "I must be on hand to rescue you when you and Patsy go fighting windmills."

      CHAPTER III

      MYRTLE DEAN

      "We were due in Denver three hours ago, and it's an hour's run or more yet," remarked Beth De Graf, walking briskly up and down the platform of a way station where the train had stopped for orders.

      "And it's beginning to snow," observed Patricia Doyle, beside her. "I'm afraid this weather isn't very propitious for an automobile trip."

      "Uncle

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