iding-habit, which she had brought
from the East. The skirt was divided, and reached just below the knee;
her blouse, of lighter material, and brown in color, was loose,
allowing free play for her arms and shoulders. High riding-boots were
laced to the knee. A sombrero and riding-gloves lay on the table ready
to complete her costume.

Bud coldly acknowledged Echo's affectionate and happy greeting, and
curtly informed her that Jack had arrived.

She rushed out of doors with a cry of joy.

Running across the courtyard toward her lover, who awaited her with
outstretched arms, she began:

"Well, this is a nice time, you outrageous--" when Polly stopped her
with a mock-serious look. "Wait a minute--wait a minute" (the girl
drawled as if reining in a too eager horse) "don't commence calling
love-names before you get the hitch--time enough after. He has been
actin' up something scandalous with me."

Jack threw up his hands in protest, hastily denying any probable charge
that the tease might make. "Why, I haven't been saying a word!" he
cried.

Polly laughed as she ran to the door.

"No, you haven't," she answered mockingly, as one agrees with a child
whose feelings have been hurt. "He's only been tellin' me he loved--"
Pausing an instant, she pointed at Echo, ending her sentence with a
shouted "you."

With her hand on Jack's shoulder, Echo said: "Polly, you are a flirt.
You've too many strings to your bow."

"You mean I've too many beaux to my string!" laughingly answered the
girl.

"You'll have Slim Hoover and Bud Lane shooting each other up all on
your account," chided Echo.

"Nothing of the kind," pouted Polly. "Can't a girl have friends? But I
know what you two are waiting for?"

"What?" asked Jack.

"You want me to vamose. I'm hep. I'll vam."

And Polly ran into the kitchen to tell the men that the bridegroom had
arrived, but couldn't be seen until the bride was through with an
important interview with him. So she hustled them all into the
living-room, where the girls were.

This room was a long and low apartment, roughly plastered. The heavy
ceiling-beams, hewn with axes, were uncovered, giving an old English
effect, although this was not striven for, but made under the stress of
necessity. The broad windows were trellised with vines, through which
filtered the sunshine. A cooling evening breeze stirred the leaves
lazily. The chairs were broad and comfortable--the workmanship of the
mo