The panic gradually subsided, and the dance was soon going on as merrily as if nothing had happened. The crowd did not go home till morning; at least the new day was just sending its heralds of light above the hills as the party broke up with hearty thanks and hand shakes to Rancher Morgan and his niece for the jolly time they had given their neighbors. As a parting salute, the cowboys emptied their revolvers into the air and dashed away with whoops that woke the hillside echoes. The girls struck up—
“Good night, ladies,
Good night, ladies,
Good night, ladies,
We’re going to leave you now.”
as they rolled along the ranch roads in their buckboards and lumber wagons.
Colonel Morgan and his little girl, with animated faces, stood in the door till the revelry had died away. Then Alta turned to her warm-souled uncle, the only father she had ever known, and giving him a sweet—not good-night, but good-morning kiss, left for her room and lay down to rest. But she could not go to sleep. Her thoughts kept tossing excitedly, till to calm them she arose and went to the window where she stood looking out upon the dawning day, and thinking, thinking.
The events of the night just past had shocked her soul to a new sense of responsibility. She had begun to learn that it is dangerous business to play with the fire of human hearts. She chided herself for being too free with Dick Davis. What would come of it all? Her sensitive heart was troubled. For Alta Morgan was not a flirt; she was full of life and fun; she liked friends, and she won them quickly by her artless grace and genuine goodness; but though she seemed care-free and merry, her conscience was keen and true. It pained her to hurt any one. She felt more pity than blame for even stupid Bud. But she soothed herself with the feeling that after all, her fault was at worst only a bursting desire for innocent fun; and with this comforting thought she gradually dropped her worries to watch the morning break in peace over her troubled world.
The sunlight was tipping the jagged rim of the eastern mountains with flaming gold, before she threw herself, still in her dainty white but rather crumpled dress, on her couch.
When her uncle came in an hour later, she was still lying there, a quiet smile upon her pretty lips, a trace of tear stain on her cheek, and some withered wild flowers tangled in her silken hair. The Colonel gazed a moment in admiration, then he stepped softly across the room, took a light shawl that hung above her, and after spreading it gently over his “little squirrel” stole from the room, closing the door quietly after him.
Chapter IV
FIRE WATER
THE Bar B ranch was roused that morning by a rowdy, half-tipsy band of cowboys, who dashed up to the old shack just as the sun pushed his blazing face above the eastern peaks.
Dan and Fred were up and had breakfast well under way; for they knew that Pat would not be in any fettle to do the cooking that day.