Mrs. Bruce looked across again at the Nixon table and laughed maliciously. “This isn’t Mrs. Nixon’s lucky day,” she said. “First her brother has to be lured from a siren, and then she has the shock of discovering that she has been entertaining an heiress unawares! Poor Mrs. Nixon! It will be sport to watch her now.” CHAPTER XIV THE LOOKOUT IN the comings and goings through the halls and veranda of the charming inn, Irving Bruce managed to lose his stepmother and find Betsy Foster, greatly to the latter’s confusion; for it was time for the evening performance of the geyser. Irving took his old friend by the arm. “You’re going out there with me, Betsy,” he said. “Not without Mrs. Bruce, I ain’t.” “Yes, you are. We’re going to stray in the moonlight together.” “If you ever had another guess comin’ you’ve got it now, Mr. Irving,” declared Betsy firmly. “You find Mrs. Bruce right off.” Irving sighed and succumbed. Finding his adorer was an easy matter, and he did so without more ado. They joined the throng that moved toward the geyser, and as good fortune would have it, were in time to find one seat on the benches where Mrs. Bruce and Mrs. Nixon could sit together. Then Irving unostentatiously withdrew, and again catching Betsy by the arm took her a few paces away. The silvery light of the clear moon bathed the cool mountain night. “What have you decided to do, Betsy?” he asked. “I suppose you mean Rosalie.” Irving gave the thin arm an impatient shake. “Well,” said Betsy coolly, “I haven’t decided.” “If you don’t do something, I shall.” “You ain’t qualified,” remarked Betsy curtly. “Are you?” retorted her companion. “That thing mustn’t be allowed to go on. That waitress business! That lovely flower subjected to orders and winks and tips. I won’t stand it.” “Well now, you can’t do a thing!” declared Betsy firmly. “Are you going to?” “I am, in my own time and way.” “Does your own time and way include letting Rosalie work the rest of the season?” “Perhaps,” said Betsy tersely. “You mustn’t interfere, Mr. Irving. You’ll only do harm.” Irving gave an exclamation. “There is one thing I can do: go away to-morrow. I’m not going to stay here and watch it.” “But Mrs. Bruce—” began Betsy, troubled. “Can do as she pleases,” put in Irving. “I’ll go to Yellowstone Lake and fish till she gets ready to follow.” “Oh, oh, oh! Mr. Irving!” The exclamation was of joy, for in the earnestness of their talk Betsy had not noticed the preliminary spurts of water, and now the splendid captive stream burst its bonds and gushed skyward in the moonlight. Its banners of spray hung and floated cloud-like in the breeze; and while they gazed, all at once the pure white flushed to rose, then changed to violet, and presently a gauzy rainbow hung between earth and heaven, a thing of supernatural beauty. “Do you suppose _she_ is seeing this?” murmured Irving.