ve to her _vis-a-vis_ across the table.

The latter's countenance grew heavier and heavier, his dark brows drawing
together and his black eyes smouldering.

If anybody noticed this change in Tom's countenance it was his twin
sister, sitting on Ruth's side of the table. And perhaps she understood
her brother's mood. Now and then her own eyes flashed something besides
curiosity along the table on her side at Ruth and Chess Copley, so
evidently lost in each other's companionship.

But it was a gay party. How could it be otherwise with Jennie at the
table? And everybody was bound to second the gaiety of the bride. The
groom's pride in Jennie was so open, yet so very courteously expressed,
that half the girls there envied Jennie her possession of Henri Marchand.

"To think," drawled Ann Hicks, who had come East from Silver Ranch, "that
Heavy Stone should grab off such a prize in the matrimonial grab-bag.
My!" and she finished with a sigh.

"When does your turn come, Ann?" asked somebody.

"Believe me," said the ranch girl, with emphasis, "I have got to see
somebody besides cowpunchers and horse-wranglers before I make such a
fatal move."

"You have lost all your imagination," laughed Helen, from across the
table.

"I don't know. Maybe I used it all up, back in those old kid days when I
ran away to be 'Nita' and played at being 'the abused chee-ild'.
Remember?"

"Oh, _don't_ we!" cried Helen and some of the other girls.

Something dropped on Tom Cameron's plate. He glanced up, then down again
at the object that had fallen. It was a piece of plaster from the
ceiling.

Chess Copley likewise shot a glance ceilingward.

There was a wide gap--and growing wider--on his side of the chandelier. A
great piece of the heavy plaster was breaking away from the ceiling, and
it hung threateningly over his own and Ruth Fielding's head.

"Look out, Ruth!" shouted Tom Cameron, jumping to his feet.

CHAPTER II

A RIFT IN HIS LUTE

Tom Cameron, no matter how desirous he might be of saving Ruth from hurt,
could not possibly have got around the table in time. With a snarling,
ripping noise the heavy patch of plaster tore away from the ceiling and
fell directly upon the spot where the chairs of Ruth and Chess Copley had
been placed!

The screams of the startled girls almost drowned the noise of the
plaster's fall, but Ruth Fielding did not join in the outcry.

With one movement, it seemed, Copley had risen and kicked