“Aw—now—Sally!”
“So that Ruth Fielding says,” laughed Sally. “You’re sure popular with those youngsters.”
Ike grinned feebly. But he was feeling better. He had actually forgotten his feet—even in Sally’s presence. Jennie Stone, although an all too solid bit of humanity, was remarkably light upon her feet when it came to dancing. Indeed, she was so good a dancer that she steered Ike over the floor to such good purpose that he—as well as other people—began to believe that Bashful Ike was no more awkward than the next man off the range.
“Why, Ruthie!” whispered Madge Steele, who was the next “victim” in line. “Ike is a regular Beau Brummel beside some of these fellows. Look at Heavy steering him around! And look at the teacher watching them. Humph! young lady I believe you’re got a ‘great head on you,’ to quote Master Bobbie.”
“Now, you be real nice to him, Madge,” Ruth urged.
“Of course I shall, child,” replied Miss Steele, with her most “grown-uppish” air. “He’s nice anyway; and if we can ‘wake teacher’ up to his importance, I’ll gladly do my part.”
“If it only gives him a grain of confidence in himself, I shall be satisfied,” declared Ruth. “That is what Ike lacks.”
The foreman of Silver Ranch was coming out pretty strong, however. The Virginia Reel was the favorite dance, and when Helen stopped playing the applause was so great, that she responded with a repetition of the whole figure; so Ike and Heavy continued on the floor for a much longer period, and the big cowpuncher gained more ease of manner. When they ceased dancing the stout girl led her escort right into the clutches of Madge Steele.
Now, Madge was taller than the schoolmistress and in her city-made gown looked years older. The boys were rather afraid of Madge when she “put on the real thing,” as her brother inelegantly expressed it, for she seemed then quite a young lady grown!
“I really believe you Western men are gallant, Mr. Stedman,” she announced. “Chivalrous, and unafraid, and bold, and all that. I am deeply disappointed.”