The old ranchman worked up the idea with Mrs. Edwards before Frances knew anything about it. "They call it a 'dinner dance,'" he confided to Frances at length, when the main plan was already made. "At least that's what Mrs. Edwards says." "A 'dinner dance'?" repeated his daughter, not sure for the moment that she wished to have so much confusion in the house when there was so much to do. "Yes! Now, it isn't one of those dances you read about out East, where folks drink a cup of tea, and then get up and dance around, and then take a sandwich and the orchestra strikes up another tune," chuckled Captain Rugley. "No, it isn't like that. I couldn't stand any such doings. I'd never know when I'd had enough to eat; every dance would shake down the courses so that my stomach would be packed as hard as a cement sidewalk." "Oh, Daddy!" said Frances, half laughing at him. "No. This dinner dance idea is all right," declared the ranchman. "We give a dinner to the whole crowd--all the girls and boys that have been coming over here for the past two or three weeks." "It will make fifteen at table," said the practical Frances, thinking hard of the resources of the household. "That's all right. I'll get in the Reposa boys to help San Soo and Ming." "Victorino, too?" asked his daughter, curiously. "Yes," declared the Captain, stoutly. "He's sorry he mixed up with Ratty M'Gill. Vic isn't a bad boy. Well, that's help enough, and San Soo can outdo himself on his dinner." "That part of it will be all right--and the service, too, for José and Victorino are handy boys," admitted Frances. "We'll have out the best tableware we own. That silver stuff that came from Don Morales will knock their eyes out----" "Oh, Daddy!" cried Frances, going off into a gale of laughter. "You picked up that expression from Tom Gallup." "That's the slangy boy--yes," admitted the old ranchman, with a broad smile. "But some of his slang just hits things off right. Some of those girls think you're 'country,' I know. We'll show them!" Frances sighed. She knew it meant that she must dress the part of a barbarian princess to please her father. But she made no objection. If she tried to show him that the jewels and ornaments were not fit for her to wear, he would be hurt. "Yes!" exclaimed Captain Rugley, evidently much pleased with the idea of a social time that he had evolved with Mrs. Edwards' help, "we'll have as nice a dinner as San Soo can make. After dinner we'll have dancing, I'll get the string band from Jackleg. Jackleg's getting to be quite a social centre, Mrs. Edwards says." Frances laughed again. "I expect," she said, "that Mrs. Edwards is eager to have a dance, and the Jackleg string band _is_ a whole lot better than Bob Jones' accordion and Perry's old fiddle." "Oh, well! Of course, an accordion and fiddle are all right for a cowboy dance, but this is going to be the real thing!" declared her father.