So he swung her into the circle of dancers. Jane found him easy to dance with, though he was far from expert. Jane felt strange and uncertain with him. Then soon she became aware of the cessation of hum and movement. “Sure that was the best dance I ever had,” said Springer, with something of radiance in his dark face. “An’ now I must lose you to this outfit comin’.” Manifestly he meant his cowboys Tex, Nevada, Panhandle and Andy, who presented themselves four abreast, shiny of hair and face. “Good luck,” he whispered. “If you get into trouble let me know.” What he meant quickly dawned upon Jane. Right then it began. She saw there was absolutely no use in trying to avoid or refuse these young men. The wisest and safest course was to surrender, which she did. “Boys, don’t all talk at once. I can dance with only one of you at a time. So I’ll take you in alphabetical order. I’m a poor old schoolmarm from Missouri. It’ll be Andy, Nevada, Panhandle and Tex.” Despite their protests she held rigidly to this rule. Each one of the cowboys took shameless advantage of his opportunity. Outrageously as they all hugged her, Tex was the worst offender. She tried to stop dancing, but he carried her along as if she had been a child. He was rapt, and yet there seemed an imp of mischief in him. “Tex—how dare—you!” panted Jane, when at last the dance ended. “You ought to be—ashamed. I’ll not dance with you again.” “Aw, now,” he pleaded. “I won’t, Tex, so there. You’re no gentleman.” “Ahuh!” he ejaculated, drawing himself up stiffly. “All right, I’ll go out an’ get drunk, an’ when I come back I’ll clean out this heah hall.”