Ruth jumped nervously.
"Here, cut that out!" ordered the foreman to the offending cowboy. "Save your powder to mill the cattle."
"I begs your pardon, Miss," said the cowboy, humbly. "But I jest couldn't help it—thinkin' we was goin' to have a little amusement. It's been powerful dull out here lately. Nothin' to do but shoot the queue off Ling Foo."
"Oh! you don't do that; do you?" gasped Ruth.
"Don't mind him, Miss," said the foreman, "he's jokin'."
Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon were only too willing to show their talents to the appreciative audience of cowboys, and with Paul, who played the banjo, they went through the little sketch, with a side porch as a stage, and the setting sun as a spotlight.
There were ample sleeping quarters at Rocky Ranch, though the bedrooms were rather of the camp, or bungalow, type. But there was hot and cold water and this made up for the lack of many other things.
"Do you think you're going to like it here, Alice?" asked Ruth as they sat in the room they were to share. Ruth was manicuring her nails, and Alice was combing her hair.
"Like it? Of course I'm going to like it. Aren't you?"
"Well, it's—er—rather—rough," she hesitated.