"And is that the reason--" began Nancy, while her friends trembled for fear of what the inquisitive child would ask next.
"The reason I was so blue?" he asked gently. "It certainly was. You guessed right again. If you had six guesses, I believe you would get six secrets from me, Miss Nancy," he laughed.
"Then you are not a Mormon?" asked Billie.
"Most assuredly not. I was born in Kentucky, educated at Harvard and settled on this farm my uncle left me three years ago. But before that I spent some time in Salt Lake City."
"That you--that she--I mean, that the father----"
"It is a shame," he interrupted, evidently enjoying his confession to the four earnest young girls immensely. "And the worst of it is that I can't even write to her and as for seeing her, I might as well try and see the Empress of China. I can't get a letter to her because all her mail is opened by that old dragon of a father."
"And can't Evelyn write to you?" asked Nancy, her eyes as big as saucers.
"I've caught you," he cried, his handsome face lit up with merriment. Nancy could have bit her tongue for having thoughtlessly mentioned the girl's name. The other girls could not help joining in the laughter. Miss Campbell waked up a moment, smiled sleepily at the group and closed her eyes again. The thunder of the rain on the roof and the whistle of the wind as it blew around the corner of the house muffled their voices into far-away sounds.
"Confess, now, Miss Nancy. You know this young lady."
"Oh, ho!" he cried. "You've been reading Kipling."
"We couldn't help reading the message at the same time we saw the postcard. We know it was impolite."
"I only wish it had been more of a message," said Daniel Moore. "It was the last one I have ever had from her."
"Why don't you go and find her?" suggested gallant Billie.
"I have been," he answered. "I've almost camped out in front of her house. I've done about everything I could do without breaking down the door and abducting her. If I could only get one more message to her, somehow----"
"Why couldn't we take it?" asked Billie. "We're going to Salt Lake City."
Daniel Moore rested his chin on his hand and sat thinking.
"Why, you could," he said at last. "You could do that thing for me and I would be everlastingly in your debt. It could be done in this way without any risk for any one concerned. You could write her a note as if you were an old school friend and ask her to meet you."