“’Tana disappeared! Well, now, I haven’t seen her for two dances,” said Mrs. Huzzard, looking around searchingly, “though I never missed her till this minute.”
“Beg pardon, ma’am,” said a voice at her elbow; “but is it the—the young lady with the white dress you are looking for?”
“Yes, it is,” answered Mrs. Huzzard, and turned around to face the speaker, who was an apologetic-looking stranger with drab-colored chin whiskers, and a checkered shirt, and a slight impediment in his speech.
“Well, ma’am, I saw her go into that room there quite a spell ago,” and he nodded toward the back sitting room. “She hasn’t passed out again, as I’ve seen.”
Then, as Mrs. Huzzard smiled on him in a friendly way, he ventured further:
“She’s a very pretty girl, as any one can see. Might I ask her name?”
“Oh, yes! Her name is Rivers—Miss Tana Rivers,” said Mrs. Huzzard. “You must be a stranger in the settlement?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. My name is Harris—Jim Harris. I come down from the diggings with Mr. Overton this morning. He allowed it would be all right for me to step inside, if I wanted to see the dancing.” 110
“To be sure it is,” agreed Mrs. Huzzard, heartily. “His friends are our friends, and civil folks are always right welcome.”
“Thank, you, ma’am; you’re kind, I’m sure. But we ain’t just friends, especial. Only I had business in his line, so we picked up acquaintance and come into camp together; and when I saw the pretty girl in white, I did think I’d like to come in a spell. She looks so uncommon like a boy I knew up in the ’big bend’ country. Looks enough like him to be a twin; but he wasn’t called Rivers. Has—has this young lady any brothers or cousins up there?”