Cowboy Meg's Christmas Stocking: A PAIR OF REVOLVERS.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 237, 22 December 1916, Page 2 (Supplement)

Cowboy Meg's Christmas Stocking: A PAIR OF REVOLVERS.

By A. B. COOPER, in "The Weekly Scotsman."

"Oh dear! Oh dear! She'll be the death of us all, herself included." There were sounds of clattering hoofs ou the gravel of the drive, auu Lady Barrington, looking out of the French window, saw Meg mounted on Firefly, tearing across the broad terratle, and taking a flying leap over the stone-carved balustrade on to the tin* of the park, whilst her own son and daughter, the Hon. Jack and tne equally honourable Joyce Barrington—who certainly ought to have known better —openly and loudly applauded the feat.

Yes, what about the real thing? | Jack especially wanted to seize and use 1 this unique opportunity. He had never dared hitherto to give 31eg anything except chocolates and candy, and trifles of that sort. She was not a girl ic .whom cue could offer presents with impunity, despite iter Alberta rearing, lie could imagine her "chucking" a gilt which savoured of " spooniness"' into the cabbage patch. Oh, yes. besides, she had most things already. So the conclave came to nothing, and the 23rd cf December arrived and poor Jack had not made up his mind, and it was nearly worrying him to death. What should it be? What would she really value? He was walking up St. James's Street alone, going to his club for lunch, for he was in Town for the day ding some special Christmas commissions for his mother. Hallo, Jiarrington!" Jack wheeled round and saw .\lajor Macherworth of the Blues, and shook him heartily by the hand. "Awfully glad 1 met you, old chap." said the Major, " What think of these —eh?" * * * Like a conjuror lie produced a case; still like a conjuror he touched a ' Spring; and there lay a pair of the I daintiest, silver-mounted revolvers that one could wish to see, chased with a scroll of work which looked Indian or Persian, or something Eastern at least. "Bv —jove!" said Jack. "For sale. Barrington. I was a fool yesterday. Cleaned out at Newmarket,

Certainly the style of Meg's riding was little short of scandalous. Even ir her skirt had been such as certain ladies wear when they go riding in the Row, Lady Barrington would not have greatly approved. She liked the old habit and side-saddle, which shj thought particularly graceful and beicoming, 'especially to a girl who had shape and looks such as Meg possessed. But this wild and foolish girl from Alberta actually wore leathern Indian fringed " unmentionables," and a beaded tunic to match —and —Lady Barrington had to confess it despite herself —looked lovely 1

Yes, thai was the worst of it. Jack was as hopelessly " gooa" oa Meg Mo*» ton from Alberta, as she had once fondly hoped lie would be on another Meg, of Mayfair ana many other fine plages, who had everything to commend tier except looks. Oh, why had she invited this uninspected and unsuspected girl to cross the Atlantic? Now she feared it would require more than an ordinary ccean to keep Jack from proposing. * * ♦ Lady Barrington would not have takei. this unfortunate attachment much to hea'.rt if Meg of Alberta had not been such a tom-boy—nay, rather, cowboy! She was "as pretty as a pictre," and "as rich as Crocus," as Mrs. Maiaprop would say, and, being a ( little worldly wise, Laoy Barrington did not dcsipise these qualifications. If she had not had those barbarous habits of cracking stock-whips', shooting at bottles and other less innocent marks wit 1 ! { revolvers, riding across the park barebacked, like —well, exactly like a cowboy, and all that sort of gaucherie slu would Lave welcomed her to her liea t and home with much goodwill. And it was not use talking to Meg. She was utterly proof against reproof. Her fathc-r —one of Lady Barrington's oldest and truest friends —must have "spoiled'' her utterly. Indeed, the moment Lady Barrington said a cross word Meg would take her for a jig round the room, whether she wanted *,o dance or whether she didn't, and . call her "a dandy little darling that wanted to be nasty and snarly with her poor little Mieg. " Now what could she do under those circumstances, especially when Jack and Joyce were simply shrieking with • laughter, and not inclined to sympathise with their mother in the least? She must laugh too, she supposed. At any rate, she generally did. But Lady Barrington had one consolation. It was evident that Meg did not care a rap for Jack. She simply bounced him about the place, whistled r for him to go out with her, as she would have whistled for one of the dogs, and took all his gifts and attentions as her due. She seemed utterly oblivious of the fact that Jack worshipped her. Lady Barrington liked her for that. She had none of the artifice of the coquette. Jack was just ( .comrade, a chum, a "good sport." Lady Barrington could imagine her laughing in Jack's face when lie proposed to her. She was just that sort. And it was a good job she was, for •Jack was as hopelessly moonstruck as he could be, and simply followed Meg about like her shadow. That was her Ladyships' chief trouble at present. Yet she could not send Meg home. What had she done to deserve expulsion? Absolutely nothing, except break njll the rules of polite society in the most charming manner, and make most of them seem as ridiculous as they really are. Certainly there was Joyce to think about. But Lady Barrington felt instinctively that there was nothing to fear from Meg in any essential sense. Meg might bo a cow* boy in attire and manner sometimes, but she was a Joan of Arc in morals. # * * Joyce and Jack were in deep and 6olemn conclave. The subject of discussion was a weighty one than this • What should Jack put in Meg's stocking on Christmas Eve? It was a decision which needed duo deliberation, and the wisdom of Solomon ;i nd Cocr.ites combined. Meg had openiy confessed that she always hung up her stocking in Alberta. It was a custom her father had brought from the Oul Country, away back in the eighties, and it had been kept up ever since. Who was she that she should let drop so hoary and memorable a custom, because, forsooth, she had turned nineteen, and occasionally put up her hair?" j Thus Lady Barrington had pointed out in vain that it was a children's custom, and tlnvt a girl in England of .-Jcg's ,ige nineteen would not dream of hanging up her stocking on Christmas or any other eve. but would consider t distinctly derogatory to ner dignity to do anything so childish. But Meg was adamant whore stocking hanging was concerned. She had never missed yet, she said, " since the days when .•-lie used to swop bottles with Teddy Briscoe, tire trapper's baby'', and she didn't intend in do now . It Jack wouldn't buy her a stick of chewing gum." and Joyce "a dandy liltle Teddv gear," or something equalI ■ Christmassy and homelike, she would pack up her trunk, including al Iher stocking, except the pair she wore —and "make back tracks for die old log cabin in Alberta!" Of course. Lady Harrington didn't really care whether Meg hung up her stocking or not. Sue would have liked to wean so pretty, and. in many ways, •e charming a girl both from her Wild West wavs and her childish customs, out hanging a stocking was infinitely bettor, at least, than tho<?e dreadful, fringed, cowboy trousers! Oh, yes, let her bang her stocking, especially if Mich a concession might pave the way for reform in the other direction. So Joyce and Jack were racking their brains and getting lit'le "forwarder." The chewing gnni and Ihe Teddy bear were already bought. They were only gifts to laugh at —t- exhibit at the breakfast table wi+li shout* ot mirth. They were not serious. They ■' were not the gifts of price which Jack I wished to lay at his lady's feet—s>r, rather, put into the hosiery which sometimes contained them. They were a mere detail.

and—We'll, you know! Any bids?'' Tiro minutes later the two men were lunching together, but the case of revolvers was in Jack's pocket, and two ten-pound notes were in the impecunious Major's wallet. Yet, funnily enough, Jack did not relaise that he truly and sincerely wanted those revolvers until lie showed them to Joyce that evening. Indeed, it .was mere accident that Meg was not there also. She might- have been, and then the whole thing would have been spoiled, for he would certainly have shown them to her as well. "The very thing!" said Joyce. '"What very thing?" queried Jack. ; "For Meg's stocking!" .Joyce ainiost screamed. Then he saw it, and called himself all kinds of a fool for not thinking of it before. 1 * * * Of course, Jack ought not to have [ done it, but he did, all the same. What? Why, went with Joyce into Meg's bedroom when .Joyce had mad* (sure she was ''safe in >the. arms of Methu.saleh," as Mrs. Malaprop would say again, and together they "fixed things. They nearly burst with merriment, and ran :i risk of awakening the fair Islrrper, as they "Mixed" the two revolvers so that their butts stuck up "lit of th'* dangling stockings just- .is the old hoi so pistols were seen sticking out of a highwayman*' belt in the pictures in the Christinas Annuals. They iniaginod Meg waking up and, looking round lor her stockings—for she had .pinned them to her bed-head with her own fair hands —seeing the stock* an ! stockings at one and the same time' That was Jack's joko, and 11.> thought of sending it to " Punch". Hut it wasn't thus she woke. Meg indeed woke much too early, and with a strong sense of something impending. It wasn't nigl.marc either. Xo. 11 was Then a eo'd shiver ran down Meg's /•j.ine, and softly, oh, so softly, she raised herself upon her elbow, and stared horror-stricken across the darkened room. Two figures were silhouetted against 11.-» blind. Their backs were turned towards her. They were busy, very busy. Shadowy fingers straved among her treasures, and n small (lis- of brightness danced on silver b:v'icd mirrors, brushes, and "other tbini's t'O numerous to mention." as the auction catalogue put it. ' Almost involuntarily she touched the switch of the electric liirht at her h<v|head. Tt was n hold aetion, but it was done now. It's soft radiance filled the i room. ; "Ah-h-h—h!" i With a snarl hoth men faced round,

and one of them fingered a revolver very delicately. It was not the first time ho had got "the drop" 011 a feU lcw-ereature. Meg knew it, and if she had thought of screaming or rushing to the door, or any other silly thing liko that, she ceased to think of it. She was frightened. Of course she was. A slip of a girl in her night-dress opposed to two midnight marauders intent on getting aawy with the swag I Who .would not be frightened? But she was not panic-stricken. She noticed two things—the open window, for instance, and a bulging bag. This room wji.s the burglars last call, probably, and they were going to make their exit down the lattice-like stems (>f the great wisteria, and away across the park. At Packington Junction they would pick up the express and b» in Town before daylight. It >s strange she should think of that. The mind has strange vagaries. All this meant the melting pot for seme of the choicest treasures of tho Manor, and the escape of two dastardly ruffians. Meg thought of that more than of her own safety, more even than she thought of that revolver pointed at her head. She was used to revolvers. Then something new and strange gleamed from tiie bed-head. Her stockings! But what was protruding from them? Not a stick of chewing gum Not even a Teddy Bear! But two most lovely "guns." Not twenty seconds had ticked since the switching 011 of the electric light. But they were twenty seconds of wondrous intensity. When the charged clouds of thought shoot out lightning flashes of inspiration or terror, they do it with infinite rapidity. The sight of these revolvers neutral ised the terror and left the inspiration supreme. Meg foil Hat upon her face, as if her awful terror had suddenly taken a- new form, and, pulling the pi 1 low frantically over her head, seemed determine! to emulate the fabled ostrich. and try to thing the danger nor. existent because she could not see >t She would be, for the nonce, one o( Jane Austin's fainting females. A law chuckle came from the neigh bourhood the' dressing table. The

two men were evidently plea-sod to find ] that instead of a wild cat they had i only a timorous kitten to deal with. I Meg got the corner of her right eye j in the direction of the burglars. She saw that the revolver was lowered f The men evidently thought they could ! finish their task before bothering to gag this silly little girl and tie her to | the bedpost whilst they cut across the park. Then, like the wink of an eyelid, Meg clutched at the gleaming stocks protruding from her hanging stockings and. still lying flat, levelled them at the two nun. I ."Put em up'.'' she said, in the growliest voice she could muster. The two men swung round as if they had worked on swivels and somebody had pulled the crank. Their eyes began to bulge. Their hands wavered . half up. j "Higher!" growled Meg. i The hands went highter. ;• Higher still! ■ They tried to reach the ceiling. Then, like a snake in the grass, Meg wriggled to her knees, keeping the men ' still covered all the time. j ''Hand it over!" she .said, glaring; at ih" man vilm had originally got the drop on her. j The man, who still held the revolver, ! came gingerly towards the bed, but, ! just as he was la\ing the weapon down, j the other beast, thinking he was un- j covered, made a grab at his hip. j "Ha! ha!'' scoffed Meg. "You've got one too? Well, I hoe were not loaded, b:i this is." She pointed the surrendered "nun" at his head, flung aside Jack's gift which had served her s<: well, and the burglar wilted instantly. ! "1 II thank you for yours, sir.'' said Meg. and she not it. "Xow walk!" she said. They walked—back, back, through her door, and up—always backward with uplifted hands—up a flight of j blond stairs. j "Halt!" -aid Meg. i They halted. | ' ''.Tuck! Jack! I want yon!" she j streamed, still keeping them covered. Lady Harrington and Jack appeared at I the same instant, from their separate I rooms, closely followed by Joyce." Per- ! bails they had all had bad dream-, or j some occult, sense of dinger made their , sleeping ears acute. "Meg* My child!" Lady Harrington was just in time, and so was Jack. "Keep 'em covered, Jackie," gasped i Meg, and then she fainted into Lady llarington s motherly arms. Well, now. what could La<lv Barrington sav after that? What indeed? It is really much more to the point to record what Jack said. Ho said it first ! to his mother. He told Iter that lie

should pack up his traps and go ranching in West Australia or some other outlandish place, because he was sic-k of "the whole bally show in this country." And his mother said: —"Have you asked her, boy ?" Then .Jack nearly fainted, and stammered " X—n—no. How —did —you know? Besides—she wouldn't look at me." "I should try before I emigrated. Jack," said his mother with a tsmile. She had changed her opinion of Meg's indifference in the wink of an eyelid on Christinas Eve. But Jack was tremendously surprised when Meg wept on his stioulder, and told him she was the happiest girl in the wide world, and, if he hadn't asked her, she would have been the most miserable. Imagine that! Such a. cowboy, dreadnought sort of girl, too! But a girl's a girl for a' that, as Bobbie Burns nearly said.