"Now I work on de ranch, but always I can not stay. W'en de ole tam come back I mus' go. Well, my frien', some day I fin' Pony George, un w'en dat day come I weel hang hees hair on my bridle. Ah, I weel keel dat man--keel heem slow, so she weel have plenty tam for see hees deat' before she die." Abruptly Telescope Laguerre slipped down to the ground and vanished in the darkness. CHAPTER XIII THE DANCE A week later, while the outfit was eating supper, Swing Tunstall burst yelling into the bunkhouse. He flung his hat on the floor and thudded into his seat. "Dance!" he whooped, hammering on the table with his knife and fork. "Dance! Big dance! Down at the Bend. Next week. Saturday night. They're a-goin' to have it in the hotel. Hooray!" "Pass him the beans, quick!" shouted Doubleday. "Get him to eatin' before the roof pulls loose. When djuh say it was, Swing?" "Saturday night, next week. Butter, butter, who's got the grease? An' the canned cow. That's the stuffy. Say, that's gonna be a reg'lar elephant of a dance, that is. They's a new girl in town--I seen her. She's stayin' at Mis' Mace's, an' she's as pretty as a royal flush. Miss Kate Saltoun her name is, an' she's from the Bar S down on the Lazy River." "We'll all go," announced Doubleday. "You bet we will," said Giant Morton. "Swing, where's that necktie o' mine yuh borried last week?--yes, the red one. You know the one I mean. You wanted it so's yuh could make a hit with that hash-slinger at the hotel. Can't fool me, yuh old tarrapin. Where is it?" "I'll git it for yuh later," gurgled Tunstall, his mouth full. "I don't guess I lost it. Ca'm yoreself. Giant, ca'm yoreself. What's a necktie?" "Don't guess yuh've lost it! Well, I like that! I paid a dollar six bits for that necktie down at the Chicago Store. There ain't another like it in the territory. Ragsdale said so himself. You gimme that necktie or I'll pizen yore bronc." "Goin' to de Bend to-morrow?" inquired Telescope of Loudon, when they were riding the range the day before the dance. "I don't guess so. I don't feel just like dancin'. Don't enjoy it like I used to. Gettin' old, I guess." "I'm goin', but not to de dance een de hotel. I'm goin' to de dance hall, un I weel play de pokair, too. Ah, I weel have de good tam. W'y not you come wit' me?" "Maybe I will. See how I feel to-morrow. I'm goin' to pull my freight next week sometime. Got an engagement in Farewell in five weeks or so, an' I want to find the little hoss before then." "We'll fin' heem, you un me. I am ready any tam you say." That evening Scotty Mackenzie halted Loudon on his way to the bunkhouse. "Goin' to the dance, Tom?" queried Scotty. "I'm goin' to the Bend, but no dance in mine." "Say, you make me sick! Dorothy'll be at that dance, an' yuh'll hurt her feelin's if yuh don't go. She'll think yuh don't want to dance with her or somethin'."