“Now, Sis,” said he, “I want you to rig yourself out in something sumptuous, because I expect to make a killing with you at this dance. I’m almost sure that that Louisiana mule-drover will be there. You know you made quite an impression on him when he was through here two years ago. Well, I’ll take a hand in the game this time, and if there’s any marry in him, he’ll have to lead trumps. I’m getting tired of having my dear sister trifled with by every passing drover. Yes, I am! The next one that hangs around Las Palomas, basking in your smiles, has got to declare his intentions whether he buys mules or not. Oh, you’ve got a brother, Sis, that’ll look out for you. But you must play your part. Now, if that mule-buyer’s there, shall I”— “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.”