Presently there came the sound of a pony’s feet galloping down the road. It had not yet died away when Texas announced that the supper intermission was over.
“Pardners for a quadrille. Ladies’ choice.”
The dance was on again full swing. The fiddlers were tuning up and couples gathering for a quadrille. Denver came to claim Miss Messiter for a partner. Apparently even the existence of the vanished Holloway was forgotten. But Helen remembered it, and pondered over the affair long after daylight had come and brought with it an end to the festivities.
CHAPTER VI.
A PARTY CALL
The mistress of the Lazy D, just through with her morning visit to the hospital in the bunkhouse, stopped to read the gaudy poster tacked to the wall. It was embellished with the drawing of a placid rider astride the embodiment of fury incarnate, under which was the legend: “Stick to Your Saddle.”
BIG FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION AT GIMLET BUTTE.
ROPING AND BRONCO BUSTING CONTESTS FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD AND BIG PRIZES,
Including $1,000 for the Best Rider and the Same for Best Roper. Cow Pony Races, Ladies’ Races and Ladies’ Riding Contest, Fireworks,
AND FREE BARBECUE!!!!
EVERYBODY COME AND TURN YOUR WOLF LOOSE.
A sudden thud of pounding hoofs, a snatch of ragtime, and her foreman swept up in a cloud of white dust. His pony came from a gallop to an instant halt, and simultaneously Mac landed beside her, one hand holding the wide-brimmed hat he had snatched off in his descent, the other hitched by a casual thumb to the belt of his chaps.
She laughed. “You really did it very well.”
Mac blushed. He was still young enough to take pride in his picturesque regalia, to prefer the dramatic way of doing a commonplace thing. But, though he liked this girl’s trick of laughing at him with a perfectly grave face out of those dark, long-lashed eyes, he would have liked it better if sometimes they had given back the applause he thought his little tricks merited.
“Sho! That’s foolishness,” he deprecated.