When the three sets were formed he called the dance figures in a sonorous tone that swept out through the open windows and reached the ears of the Lorrigans as they rode away.
“Honor yore pardner––and the lady on your left!
Join eight hands, an’ a-circle to the left!
Break an Indian trail home in the Indian style, with the
lady in the lead!
Swing the lady behind you once in a while!––
The lady behind you once in a while!––
Now your pardner, and go hog wild!”
The fiddle and two mouth harps were scarcely heard above the rhythmic stamping of feet, the loud chant of the caller, who swung Mary Hope clear of the floor whenever he put his arm around her.
“A––second couple out, and a-cir-cle four!
Lay-dees do ce do!
You swing me, an’ I’ll swing you––
And we’ll all dance in the same ole shoe!
“Same four on to the next!––dance the ocean wave!
The same ole boys, the same ole trail,
Watch that possum walk the rail!
Cir-cle six, and a-do ce do!
Swing, every one swing, and a––promenade home!”
“Who wants a piano? Couldn’t hear it if yuh’ had it!” he cried, while the twelve couples paused 218 breathless. Then he wiped his face frankly and thoroughly with his handkerchief, caught Mary Hope’s hand in his, lifted his voice again in his contagious sing-song:
“Cir-cle eight, till you get straight!
Swing them ladies, like swingin’ on a gate!
Left foot up, and-a-right foot down––
Make that big foot jar the ground!
Prom-e-nade!
Swing yore corner, if you ain’t too slow!
Now yore pardner, and around you go!
For the––last time––and a-long time––
You know where, and a-I don’t care!”
The dance was saved by the big cowpuncher with the peeling nose and the twinkly gray eyes. Mary Hope had never seen him before that day, but whenever she looked at him a lump came in her throat, a warm rush of sheer gratitude thrilled her. She did not learn his name––two or three men called him Burt, but he seemed to be a stranger in the country. Burt saved her dance and kept things moving until the sky was streaked with red and birds were twittering outside in the cottonwoods.
She wanted to thank him, to tell him a little of her gratitude. But when she went to look for him afterwards he was gone, and no one seemed to know just where he belonged. Which was strange, when you consider that in the Black Rim country every one knows everybody.