-brown skirt, tramping out past the homes of people toward the open
country. At the Vandeman place Skeet's truck was out in front, piled
with folding chairs, frames, light lumber, and a lot of decorative
stuff. The tall Chinaman came from the house with another load.

"You Barbie Wallace!" the flapper howled. "Aren't you ashamed to be
walking off with Worth and Mr. Boyne both, and good men scarce as hen's
teeth in Santa Ysobel to-day!"

"I'm not walking off with them--they're walking off with me," Barbara
laughed at her.

"Shameless one!" Skeet drawled. "I see you let Mr. Cummings have a day
off--aren't you the kind little boss to 'em!"

I just raised my brows at Barbara, and she explained a bit hastily,

"Skeet thinks she has to be silly over the fact that Mr. Cummings has
gone up to town, I suppose." She added with fine indifference, "He'll be
back in the morning."

"You bet he'll be back in the morning," Worth assured the world.

"Now what does he mean by that, Mr. Boyne?"

"He means Cummings is out after him."

"I don't," Worth contradicted me personally. "I mean he's after Bobs.
She knows it. Look at her."

She glanced up at me from under her hat-brim, all the stars out in those
shadowy pools that were her eyes. The walk had brought sumptuous color
to her cheeks, where the two extra deep dimples began to show.

"You both may think," she began with a sobriety that belied the dimples
and shining eyes, "looking on from the outside, that Mr. Cummings has an
idea of, as Skeet would say, 'rushing' me; but when we're alone
together, about all he talks of is Worth."

"Bad sign," Worth flung over a shoulder that he pushed a little in
advance of us. "Takes the old fellows that way. Their notion of falling
for a girl is to fight all the other Johnnies in sight. Guess you've got
him going, Bobs."

I walked along, chewing over the matter. She'd estimated Cummings
fairly, as she did most things that she turned that clear mind of hers
on; but her lack of vanity kept her from realizing, as I did, that he
was in the way to become a dangerous personal enemy to Worth. His
self-interest, she thought, would eventually swing him to Worth's side.
She didn't as yet perceive that a motive more powerful than
self-interest had hold of him now.

"Why, Mr. Boyne," she answered as though I'd been speaking my thoughts
aloud, "I've known Mr. Cummings for years and years. He never--"

"You said a mouthful there, Bobs." Worth halt