“Gents to the center. All Hippity-hop; Hipp’s the youngest calf of all the blame’ crop.” The ancient grinned. Some of the boys sounded a mild “Yip-pee!” “Ladies, circle ’em, circle ’em, then, Cut your partners out of the pen.” Big John’s admiring eye encountered Maybelle. “Miss Maybelle of the Alamo-seet, She’s the lightest on her feet.” “Yip-pee! Johnnie, old boy, come again!” “First couple to the center—Bill, stir your lazy bones, And lead the figger pretty with the beauty from Lame Jones Yonder on the side porch there’s a tub of lemonade. Swing—swing your partners. All promen—ade.” Supper was to have been served at twelve o’clock; but a little after eleven the dust kicked up by the dancing feet from the hard earth floor became so thick that they could scarcely see each other’s faces. Even Big John’s stentorian tones broke off occasionally in a sort of barking snort. The company had just retired somewhat worsted from a polka, when an inspired genius in cowboy boots and clinking spurs He observed with a bucket of water sprinkling the floor. “Hi, hi, you Red LeGraw!” bellowed Big John from his seat on the edge of the musicians’ table. “For the Lord’s sake, what you doin’? Quit that! Do you aim to bog this dance down right here?” LeGraw stopped and confronted Martin, the bucket in his left hand, while he gesticulated with his right, flinging large drops of water into the bystanders’ eyes. “Well, I’ve had two partners mighty nigh choked to death, an’ I ain’t a-goin’ to—” Big Martin sneezed at this point, a sneeze that fairly shook the solid adobe walls. Then he began to get off the edge of the table. LeGraw set down the bucket and squared his shoulders. There was a backward movement in the crowd about. But Billy Grainger’s voice fell soothingly on the disturbance. “Aw, say, boys, don’t worry about it. Supper’s ready, anyhow. Come on, people, and eat. We’ll get this floor fixed by the time you’re done your suppers.” Out to the side yard went the company, sniffling and Wiping its eyes, and streamed over to the tables made of rough boards laid on barrels, where the barbecued meats were served with bread, potatoes roasted in the ashes, coffee in tin cups, and pies, cakes, preserves, and sweetmeats, that had come from scores of baskets. Fayte, with Hilda, was among the first to go; Maybelle and Lefty Adams followed close. Pearse Masters, with an eye on their movements, took out Mrs. Burkett, from over Caliente way, a comparatively new neighbor of the Flying M household, and a warm friend of young Masters. They sat just across from the Flying M party.