"Soak it in hot water, then!" cried Bar Seven enthusiastically. "Come on, fellers; let's make 'im do it! It ain't right--a nice lady like Mrs. Lee! She'll think you're 'shamed because you done stole them aigs!" "I did not!" denied Brigham hotly. "Well, come along, then!" countered Bar Seven triumphantly, "or the boys will be tellin' everybody!" So the last unwilling victim was cajoled into going, and at a cheery summons from Dixie May they marched up the hill in a body. It was too early yet for the nester girls to appear, and while they were waiting for the dance to begin the twenty or more punchers wedged into the big front room and settled down to hear the phonograph. A cattle ranch without a phonograph nowadays is as rare as a cow outfit without a mouth-organ; but the Lees had a fine one, that would play for dances on a scratch, and a rack piled high with classic records. Mrs. Lee sat beside it, and after welcoming the self-conscious cowboys she asked them what they would have. "The barnyard one!" somebody called; and as the cow mooed, the pig squealed, and the hired girl called the chickens, the cowboys laughed and forgot their feet. Then Caruso sang a high one, caught his breath and expired, and the company shifted in their seats. That was not exactly their style. "What's the matter with the dog fight?" cried a voice from the corner; and Mrs. Lee, who had dreams of elevating their taste, sat undecided, with the sextet from _Lucia_ in her hand. "Perhaps you would like the _Anvil Chorus_," she suggested by way of a concession. "No, the dog fight!" clamored Hardy Atkins from the same corner. Then, quoting from the well-known favorite, he inquired in up-stage Irish: "'Will some sport kindly let Mr. Ho-ogan, the time-keeper, hold his watch?'" "'Faith,'" broke in Happy Jack, continuing the selection, "'an' who will hold Ho-ogan, then--har, har, har, har, har!'" So contagious was the spell of this laughter that there was nothing for it but to put on the record, which gave a dog fight in Harlem from the time the bets were made till the spotted dog licked and the place was raided by the police. Not very elevating, to be sure, but awfully popular, and calling for more of the same. Mrs. Lee sighed wearily and laid the sextet aside; then, with quick decision, she resigned her place to Dixie May and retired to a seat by the door--and, as luck would have it, she sat down next to Bowles. "Won't you take my chair?" he said, rising with all the gallantry of his kind. "I enjoyed that _Donna e Mobile_ of Caruso's so much!" "Oh," said Mrs. Lee, beaming with pleasure, "you know it, then! And do you care for it, too?"