“Read it to me, will you, Miss Nurse?” he asked.
“If you will keep still. I never did see such a chatterbox!” exclaimed Frances, in vexation.
“I’ll be just as still as still!” he promised. “Maybe it will put me to sleep.”
“Mercy! I hope it isn’t as dull as all that,” she said, and began to read the pages she had written.
CHAPTER XXVII
A DINNER DANCE IN PROSPECT
The girl from Boston did not come over to see Pratt that very next day; but soon she, as well as the remainder of the young people who had been the guests of Mr. Bill Edwards and his hospitable wife, were stopping at the Bar-T daily and inquiring for Pratt; and as soon as he could be helped downstairs and out upon the veranda, he held a general reception all day long.
In the afternoon when the Edwards crowd was over, the old hacienda took on a liveliness of aspect that it had never known before. The veranda was gay with bright frocks and the air resounded with laughter.
The boys gathered around Pratt and plans for future hunts and other junkets were made–for the young bank clerk was rapidly recovering. The girls meanwhile made much of the old Captain–all but Sue Latrop. But she did not count for as much as she had at the beginning of her visit at the Edwards ranch. The other young folk had begun to find her out.
The punchers who were off duty were attracted to this gay party on the porch, as naturally as flies gravitate to molasses. The Amarillo girls–and, of course, Mrs. Bill Edwards–saw nothing out of the way in Captain Rugley’s hands lounging up to the hacienda to talk. Most of them were young fellows of neighboring families, and quite as well known as were the visitors themselves. Sue Latrop’s amazement at this familiarity only made the other girls laugh.