The truth is the five ladies had done an exceedingly reckless thing.

Barney McGee had invited them to come and see a real ranch, and they had accepted his invitation. At first Miss Campbell had declined. It was rather too much to expect him to entertain five guests. Besides, how could he when he was not owner of the ranch. He was part owner, he said.

But if they preferred they could stop at Steptoe Lodge just as they could at an inn-engage rooms, that is. His cousin, Brek Steptoe and his wife often had boarders-people who came for their health.

Nebraska was filled with Easterners who were trying to gain health in the West, and the good State not only often gave them health but wealth too-fine strong bodies and work that paid.

Therefore the motorists had taken down detailed directions from Barney McGee, but they had not arrived at Steptoe Lodge as soon as they had expected. An exploded tire had caused a long delay. No doubt Mrs.

Steptoe had given them up for the day now, for it was long after dark when they finally found themselves at the rancho.

A light streamed out from a door suddenly opened, and the voices in the court yard grew louder as the song progressed.

"There is musical Doh-Reh-Mi-Fah, There is the nightingale Doh-Reh-Mi-Fah."

"Does Mr. McGee live here?" asked Billie timidly of a tall athletic looking young man who had opened the door. He was dressed in buckskin with high boots, a blue flannel shirt and a silk handkerchief knotted around his neck. The girls thought him quite the most picturesque person they had seen since they left home. Even in the darkness they could see the deep flush of embarra.s.sment mount to his face.

"There is a Mr. McGee who lives here-yes," he answered, choking with bashfulness.

"Will you ask him to come out at once, please," said Miss Campbell, with a growing uneasiness that there might be some mistake.

But her fears were immediately allayed, for Barney himself came running around the side of the rancho.

"Ladies, I hope you'll excuse me for not bein' on the spot as soon as you arrived. I waited for you some hours on the door step. Tell the fellers to shut up, Jim, and stop starin' there like a wooden injun.

Call Rosina. Tell her the ladies have arrived."

The place suddenly became as still as the grave, and by the time the Motor Maids and Miss Helen had alighted and been conducted into a cemented courtyard around which the house was built, after the Spanish style, there was not a person to be seen except Jim, who followed obediently with some of the luggage.

Rosina Steptoe, who had married Barney's cousin, Brek Steptoe, now hurried into the room. She was a wiry little woman with a dark swarthy face, beady black eyes, black hair and a rather sweet expression which saved her from being really very ugly. The girls thought at first she might have some Spanish blood. Her manners were gracious and she shook hands with them cordially when Barney made the introductions.

"Will you come right in to supper?" she said, without asking them to go to their rooms. "We want to get through early because Barney is giving a dance for you to-night, and the people will be coming before we finish if we don't hurry."

"Dear, dear," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Miss Campbell under her breath.

They had not counted on being entertained by the cowboy, and began to wonder what they had been drawn into.

Feeling very dusty and a little tired from their trip across the plains, they followed Mrs. Steptoe into one of the rooms opening on the court.

It was a very large apartment with little furniture in it except a long table and the inevitable oak sideboard which always gave Billie the horrors. They afterwards learned that it was the pride of Mrs. Steptoe's heart, and had been bought in the East at a great sacrifice.

Four men were waiting at the table: Barney McGee, Brek Steptoe, who was a handsome, middle aged man with a weather-beaten face; Tony Blackstone, whom the girls discovered presently was English. It was he who had done the singing they found; also he had good manners and was not at all bashful, but very quiet. Jim made the fourth man.

As they sat down at table, a Chinaman thrust his head in the door and then disappeared. Mrs. Steptoe herself waited on them and the food was really much better than they had expected.

Nancy was seated next to Jim, who, when she was not looking, devoured her with his eyes, and when she turned to him, dropped his lids and flushed crimson as if he had been caught in a felony.

"We didn't know there was to be a party," she said to him innocently.

"You see we aren't traveling with much baggage. I'm afraid we can't dress up properly."

"Clothes don't matter out here, Miss--" he began.

"Nancy," she finished.

"Miss Nancy," he repeated, and then said it over to himself as if the name pleased him mightily.

"People don't come to see the clothes. It's the dancing they want to see and-and--"

"And what?" she demanded.

"And the gir-the ladies. You see we don't have many of them out here and they are all married."

"Every girl is a belle in this part of the country, I suppose," observed Nancy. "Even the ugly ones."

Jim a.s.sented, regarding Nancy's charming face as if he had never seen a girl before in all his life.

"And as for the pretty ones, Miss--"

"Nancy."

"Miss Nancy, they are fairly worshipped."

"Are there any pretty ones?" she asked.

"There weren't until you came," replied Jim almost in a whisper, and then dropped his knife on the floor. He stooped for so long to find it that Nancy thought he must have had a sudden attack of vertigo. She was sure of it when he finally lifted his crimson face.

"I think I have one pretty dress," she said irrelevantly, looking into Jim's eyes with just a ghost of a smile. "I think it would be nice to dress up a little. Don't you?"

"I'm afraid I can't," muttered Jim. Then, once more, plucking up courage, he asked: "Can I have the first dance?"

In the meantime, Mr. Steptoe was explaining many things to Miss Campbell regarding the rounding up of cattle and life on the plains.

"There are no more real cowboys," he said, "except in the Buffalo Bill Show. They are pa.s.sing out. Barney here is about as good a representative of the cla.s.s as there is."

"And Tony," suggested Barney.

"Tony is a good imitation but he's not the real thing because he wasn't born to it. Was you Tony?"

The man named Blackstone frowned.

"Birth has nothing to do with it," he answered, and quickly changed the subject.

"He's the younger son of an English lord," whispered Steptoe, "but he don't like to have it mentioned."

It was rather surprising on the whole to see how polite these rough men were. Following Tony's example, they stood up when the ladies filed out of the room, led by Rosina Steptoe.

Bedrooms in the Steptoe rancho were not luxurious apartments by any means. There were no bathrooms and only small ewers of water supplied the wants of the guests.

"I feel as if I had the yellow jaundice," exclaimed Nancy, as she critically examined her features in a small wooden framed mirror back of the washstand. There was no dressing table.

"To the naked eye you appear to be perfectly healthy and normal,"

replied Billie, "but I suppose Miss Nancy-Bell, you are taking notice with a view to dressing up, and for my part, I think we should go down just as we are. It's a cowboy dance."

There was a continuous argument about clothes between Nancy and Billie which Miss Campbell invariably had to settle. On this occasion Miss Campbell was for appearing as spectators at the dance and not as active guests. She had not counted on being entertained at the Lodge, and she was unable to conceal her misgivings.