straight line between his eyebrows grew deeper and
deeper. Then he left Miss Martha Bumps with the excuse of bringing her a
glass of cider, and started across the floor. It was too bad, he was
thinking to himself, for a likeable chap like that young Standish to get
in bad. A good-natured word might give him a hint, and no one be the
wiser.

Carver and Vivian did not notice his approach. They were resting from
their dance, and talking together in tones low yet perfectly audible to
one who might be passing by.

"Did you ever see such queer people in your life?" the tall ranger heard
Vivian say, and Carver's rejoinder made the straight line between his
brows even deeper than before. Apparently there was double need for his
friendly hint.

"Some five hundred, _believe me_!" said the third Carver Standish.

The scorn in his voice was born of petulance rather than of snobbishness,
but no such kindly discrimination would be made by any sharp-eared guest
of Mr. Benjamin Jarvis, and the Cinnamon Creek forest ranger lost no
time.

"If I were you," he said frankly but pleasantly to the amazed Carver
Standish, "I'd be a bit more careful about what I said. You see, here in
Wyoming it's not considered good form to talk about your host and his
guests. If they heard you, it mightn't be comfortable. And, besides, it
seems to me it would be better to dance with other folks. That's why I
came to ask you if you'd dance the next dance with me, Miss Winters."

Carver and Vivian were too discomfited to be gracious. Like many persons
more mature than they, they sought to cover embarrassment and to gain
control of the situation by bad manners.

"I hardly think," said Carver Standish III stiffly, "that I need any
coaching on behavior from you!"

And before the ranger had time to reply, had he contemplated such action,
Vivian was ready with her self-defense.

"I rather guess New Englanders have about as good manners as Wyoming
people," she said scathingly, "at least judging from those I've seen!"

The reply of the Cinnamon Creek forest ranger was brief and to the point.

"I always thought so myself until to-night," he said.

Then he bowed politely, procured a glass of cider for the waiting Miss
Bumps, who was tatting during the interval, and quietly took his leave.
But his words, angrily received though they had been, bore fruit, for
Carver Standish III danced not only with Miss Martha Bumps but also with
Mrs. Samuel Wilson who was