L. Frank Baum_Aunt Jane 06 Read Free

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.