y with!"

The punchers rushed in confusion about the room in a vain search.

"Ain't there a plagued thing we can cover the pianny with?" cried the
demoralized Allen, renewing his appeal.

Polly came to the rescue of the helpless men by plucking a Navajo
blanket from the couch. Tossing one end of it to Show Low, she
motioned to him to help hold it up before the instrument like a curtain.

"Stand in front of it, everybody," ordered Mrs. Allen, who had left her
cake-baking and hurried in from the kitchen. "Polly, spread your
skirts--you, too, Jim."

Allen ran in front of the piano, holding out an imaginary dress in
imitation of Polly. "Which I ain't got none," he cried.

Parenthesis jumped in front of the piano-stool, trying vainly to hide
it with his legs.

"Parenthesis, put your legs together," Mrs. Allen cried.

"I can't, ma'am," wailed the unfortunate puncher. He fell on his knees
before the stool, spreading out his waistcoat for a screen.

Mrs. Allen helped him out with her skirts.

"Steady, everybody!" shouted Jack.

"Here she is!" yelled Sage-brush, as the door opened and the astonished
Echo faced those she loved and liked.

Echo made a pretty picture framed in the doorway. She wore her
riding-habit of olive-green--from the hem of which peeped her soft
boots. Her hat, broad, picturesque, typical of the Southwest, had
slipped backward, forming a background for her pretty face. An amused
smile played about the corners of her mouth.

"Well, what is it?" she smiled inquiringly.

The group looked at her sheepishly. No one wanted to answer her
question.

"What's the matter?" she resumed. "You're herded up like a bunch of
cows in a norther."

Sage-brush began gravely to explain. He got only as far as: "This yere
bein' a birthday," when Echo interrupted him: "Oh! then it's a
birthday-party?"

Once stopped, Sage-brush could not get started again. He cleared his
throat with more emphasis than politeness; striking the attitude of an
orator, with one hand upraised and the other on his hip, he hemmed and
hawed until beads of perspiration trickled down his temples.

Again he nerved himself for the ordeal.

"Mebbe," he gasped.

Then he opened and closed his mouth, froglike, several times, taking
long, gulping breaths. At last, looking helplessly about him, he
shouted: "Oh, shucks! you tell her, Jack." He pushed him toward Echo.
Jack rested his hand on the table and began: "We've a surprise