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Creek forest ranger outdistance Carver Standish III in his haste to ask
her for the grand march. Carver, in white trousers and an air a little too
pronounced to be termed self-possession, was leisurely crossing the floor
toward her when his chap-clad rival of Cinnamon Creek slid past him
unceremoniously and reached Priscilla first. Even then Carver could not
believe she would choose a forest ranger in place of him; and his anger
was by no means cooled when he heard her say as though in answer to an
apology:

"Oh, but you see I can dance with Carver any day, and I've never danced
with a forest ranger in my life. I was just hoping you'd ask me when you
came!"

Baffled, Carver sought Vivian in the corner whence he had come. Weak as
Vivian was at times, he said to himself, in the matter of associates she
showed better judgment than some other girls he might name. Vivian did not
turn him down. Secretly she was devoutly thankful he had rescued her from
a persistent Biering cow boy to whom she had not been introduced, and
with whom, had an introduction been procured, she did not care to dance.
Before Carver had come, she had watched Mary talking with that freakish
Miss Bumps, Priscilla chatting with a dozen different ranchmen, cow boys,
and Bear Canyon children, and Virginia attending to the needs of a fretful
baby while its mother went cookie-hunting to the family rig.

In her heart of hearts Vivian envied them all. Inwardly she longed to be
one with whom all others felt at ease; but outwardly it was far easier to
echo Carver's vindictive mood, and agree with him, as they went to take
their places in the ever-lengthening line, that never in her life had she
seen such people.

Mr. Samuel Wilson with Miss Bumps as a partner and Mr. Benjamin Jarvis
with Mary led the march, which three times made the circle of the new barn
before breaking into an hilarious two-step. Mr. Samuel Wilson's phonograph
groaned and wheezed bravely from its platform; three great bon-fires
outside made the great barn glow with light; the babies in the
straw-filled bins slumbered on while their fathers and mothers grew young
again.

Carver, scorning a two-step, was teaching Vivian a new dance introduced at
Gordon the winter before. Pretty as it was, it was strangely inappropriate
in Mr. Benjamin Jarvis' barn, and served to separate Carver and Vivian
still farther from their fellow guests. The Cinnamon Creek forest ranger
watched them until the