"Why, certainly, brother, invite him to the ranch," replied Miss Jean,
as she busied herself with the preparations. "It's so kind of you to
look after me. I was listening to every word you said, and I've got my
best bib and tucker in that hand box. And just you watch me dazzle that
Mr. Mule-buyer. Strange you didn't tell me sooner about his being in the
country. Here, take these boxes out to the ambulance. And, say, I put
in the middle-sized coffee pot, and do you think two packages of ground
coffee will be enough? All right, then. Now, where's my gloves?"

We were all dancing attendance in getting the ambulance off, but Uncle
Lance never relaxed his tormenting, "Come, now, hurry up," said he, as
Jean and himself led the way to the gate where the conveyance stood
waiting; "for I want you to look your best this evening, and you'll be
all tired out if you don't get a good rest before the dance begins. Now,
in case the mule-buyer don't show up, how about Sim Oliver? You see, I
can put in a good word there just as easily as not. Of course, he's a
widower like myself, but you're no spring pullet--you wouldn't class
among the buds--besides Sim branded eleven hundred calves last year. And
the very last time I was talking to him, he allowed he'd crowd thirteen
hundred close this year--big calf crop, you see. Now, just why he should
go to the trouble to tell me all this, unless he had his eye on you, is
one too many for me. But if you want me to cut him out of your string of
eligibles, say the word, and I'll chouse him out. You just bet, little
girl, whoever wins you has got to score right. Great Scott! but you have
good taste in selecting perfumery. Um-ee! it makes me half drunk to walk
alongside of you. Be sure and put some of that ointment on your kerchief
when you get there."

"Really," said Miss Jean, as they reached the ambulance, "I wish you
had made a little memorandum of what I'm expected to do--I'm all in a