"Me, too," laughed Bert. "Gee, didn't Skinny shine in that shirt?" as they disappeared inside the building and there was a rush to hunt out razors, brushes and other toilet necessities or clean handkerchiefs and ties.
The Ramblin' Kid alone seemed uninterested. He dropped down on his bed and idly watched the others prepare for the evening's diversion.
"Ain't you going?" Chuck asked him, noticing his indifference.
A short, half-cynical laugh with "Oh, maybe I'll go set on the porch an' listen to th' music!" was the answer.
When Parker and the cowboys reappeared at the house it was plain that all had disobeyed Carolyn June's injunction not to "dress up." Each had paid tribute in some way, by a smooth-scraped face, a dean shirt, a tie or something, to the vanity of his own heart and the desire for the good opinion of either Carolyn June or the widow.
Both women noticed it. They exchanged glances while Carolyn June softly whispered to Ophelia: "Stir them up—it's coming to them!"
The widow smiled understandingly.
Old Heck fidgeted uncomfortably. The situation was entirely beyond his control. By right he and Ophelia ought to be sitting there quietly making love, while Skinny and Carolyn June, in another corner of the room or out on the porch, were doing the same thing. He would just have to await developments.
Parker was elated. Carolyn June's proposal had broken up Old Heck's evening alone with the widow. Perhaps—the thought thrilled the foreman —Ophelia herself had planned it!
"Skinny can keep the graphophone working," Carolyn June laughed. "Put on a one-step first," she said as he rather grudgingly went to the corner and started the music. "Come on, Bert, we'll dance this one," she cried merrily, as she stepped up to the blushing cowboy and put her hand, with a tender little pressure, on his arm. "It's 'ladies' night,' you know—Ophelia, pick your pardner!"