g, the suffering Skinny.

Carolyn June distributed tender words and velvety looks impartially
among the younger cowboys, while Ophelia alternated sweet nothings
between Parker and Old Heck, with an occasional sidelong glance at
Charley that brought a heightened color to his sun-browned cheeks.

Chuck sighed dolefully.

"Why so sad?" Carolyn June asked gently, looking with melting sympathy
at the pensive cowboy.

"I--I--was just thinking of a--a--funeral I saw once!" he answered,
gazing steadily and with pretended awe at Skinny's white shirt. "Some
colors always remind me of funerals or--or--weddings!" he explained.

A suppressed snicker circled the table.

"Don't be down-hearted," Carolyn June laughed, "it may not go that far.

"Uncle Josiah," she added suddenly, "Ophelia and I have a wonderful
surprise for you and the boys."

Old Heck looked at her without replying while he awaited an explanation.

"We are going to give a dance!" Carolyn June went on.

"A dance?" he repeated incredulously, "when--"

"To-night--in the front room," she hastened to explain, "not a big
dance--just a little one for you and the boys. The graphophone will
furnish music, there are some good one-step and waltz records--Skinny
and I were playing them this afternoon--and every blessed cowboy on the
Quarter Circle KT must be there!"

A short silence followed her words, then a chorus of "We'll be there!"
greeted her.

"In an hour," Carolyn June said, smiling sweetly at the cowboys, as they
left the kitchen, "everybody be back at the house. We'll fix the room
and have it ready--don't any one bother to 'dress up,'" she added as an
afterthought.

"Old Heck's niece acts kind of stampedish, don't she?" Bert remarked as
Parker and the cowboys filed out of the back-yard gate toward the
bunk-house.

"Yes," Charley answered. "I'm going to shave."

"So am I," said Chuck, as they hurried in the direction of their
sleeping quarters.

"Me, too," laughed Bert. "Gee, didn't Skinny shine in that shirt?" as
they disappeared inside the building and there was a rush to hunt out
razors, brushes and other toilet necessities or clean handkerchiefs and
ties.

The Ramblin' Kid alone seemed uninterested. He dropped down on his bed
and idly watched the others prepare for the evening's diversion.

"Ain't you going?" Chuck asked him, noticing his indifference.

A short, half-cynical laugh with "Oh, maybe I'll go set on the porch
an' listen to th' mus