CHAPTER XX

ON POINT LOMA


Next morning a beautiful bunch of roses was brought to Myrtle's
room--roses so magnificent that it seemed impossible they could be
grown out of doors. But there are few hothouses in California, and the
boy who brought the flowers confided to her the information that they
were selected from more than five hundred blooms. She ran to show them
to Patsy and Beth, who were amazed not only by the roses but by the
fact that the queer Mr. Jones had sent them to Myrtle. There was no
card or note accompanying the gift, but after the younger girl had
related her conversation with Mr. Jones the previous evening, they
could not doubt but he had sent the flowers.

"Perhaps," reflected Patsy, "we've been misjudging him. I never beheld
such a stolid, unimpressive countenance in my life; but the man must
have a soul of some sort, or he would not think of sending flowers to
his new friend."

"It's a pretty idea," said Beth. "He wanted to assure Myrtle that he
appreciated her kindness."

"I'm sure he likes me," declared Myrtle, simply. "He wasn't a bit
cross when I ran in and took away his pistol, or when I preached to
him. I really gave him a good talking to, and he didn't object a bit."