much to you, Frances. What's
the matter?"

"She's Eastern," explained Frances, briefly. "I imagine she thinks I am
crude."

"'Crude'? What's 'crude'?" demanded Captain Dan Rugley. "That isn't
anything very bad, is it, Frances?" and his eyes twinkled.

"Can't be anything much worse, Daddy," she whispered, "if you are all
'fed up,' as the boys say, on 'culchaw'!"

He chuckled at that, and began to eye Sue Latrop with more interest.
When the shuffle-footed Ming called them to luncheon, he kept close to
the girl from Boston, and sat with her and Mrs. Bill Edwards at one of
the small tables.

"I reckon you're not used to this sort of slapdash eating, Miss?"
suggested Captain Rugley, with perfect gravity, as he saw Sue casting
doubtful glances about the inner garden.

The fountain was playing, the trees rustled softly overhead, a little
breeze played in some mysterious way over the court, and from the
distance came the tinkle of some Mexican mandolins, for Frances had
hidden Jose and his brother in one of the shadowy rooms.

"Oh, it's quite _al fresco_, don't you know," drawled Sue.
"Altogether novel and chawming--isn't it, Mrs. Edwards?"

The neighboring rancher's wife had originally come from the East
herself; but she had lived long enough in the Panhandle to have quite
rubbed off the veneer of that "culchaw" of which Sue was an exponent.

"The Bar-T is the show place of the Panhandle," she said, promptly. "We
are rather proud of it--all of us ranchers."

"Indeed? I had no idea!" cooed the girl from Boston. "And I thought all
you ranch folk had your wealth in cattle, and re'lly had no time for
much social exchange."

"Oh!" exclaimed the Captain, "when we have folks come to see us we
manage to treat 'em with our best."

Sue was obliged to note that the service and the napery were dainty, and
what she had seen of the furnishings of the darkened hall amazed her--as
it had Pratt on his first visit. The food was, of course, good and well
prepared, for San Soo was "A Number One, topside" cook, as he would have
himself expressed it in pigeon English.

Yet Sue could not satisfy herself that these "cattle people" were really
worthy of her attention. Had she not been with Mrs. Edwards she would
have made open fun of the old Captain and his daughter.

Frances of the ranges looked a good deal like a girl on a moving picture
screen. She was in her riding dress, short skirt, high gaiters,
tight-fitting jacket, and with