for
you--that is, the boys have--"

"What is it?" asked Echo eagerly.

"You've got to call it blind," broke in Sage-brush.

"Guess it," cried Fresno.

"A pony-cart," hazarded Echo.

"Shucks! no," said Show Low at the idea of presenting Echo with
anything on wheels.

Echo then guessed: "Sewing-machine."

Sage-brush encouraged her, "That's something like it--go on--go on."

"Well, then, it's a--"

Sage-brush grew more excited. He raised and lowered himself on his
toes, backing toward the piano. "Go it, you're gettin' there," he
shouted.

"It's a--"

Again she hesitated, to be helped on by Sage-brush with the assurance:
"She'll do it--fire away--it's a--"

"A--"

"Go on."

Sage-brush in his enthusiasm backed too far into the blanket screen.
His spurs became entangled. To save himself from a fall, he threw out
his hand behind him. They struck the polished cover of the instrument,
slid off, and Sage-brush sat down on the keys with an unmistakable
crash.

"A piano!" cried Echo exultantly.

"Who done that?" demanded Show Low angrily.

Parenthesis, from his place on the floor, looked at the mischief-maker
in disgust. "Sage-brush!" he shouted.

"Givin' the hull thing away," snarled Fresno.

Show Low could contain himself no longer. Going up to Sage-brush, he
shook his fist in his face, saying: "You're the limit. You ought to
be herdin' sheep."

The victim of the accident humbly replied: "I couldn't help it."

Mrs. Allen smoothed out the differences by declaring: "What's the
difference, she wouldn't have guessed, not in a million years--stand
away and let her see it."

Fresno swept them all aside with the blanket.

"Oh, isn't it beautiful, beautiful!" cried Echo.

"Who--what--where--" she stammered, glancing from one to the other, her
eyes finally resting on Jack.

"Not guilty," he cried. "You'll have to thank the boys for this."

With happy tears welling up in her eyes, Echo said: "I do thank them, I
do--I do--I can't tell how delighted I am. I can't say how much this
means to me--I thank you--I say it once, but I feel it a thousand
times." She seized each of the boys by the hand and shook it heartily.

"Would you like to have another selection?" asked Fresno, relieving the
tension of the situation.

"No!" shouted the punchers unanimously. Fresno looked very much
crestfallen, since he considered that he had made a deep impression by
his first effort.

"Mrs. Payson's goin'