It was not until everyone was seated in the dining-room that the young man who had been the cause of so much talk finally put in his appearance. He acknowledged the introduction to the girls with a brief bow, and took his place next to Mrs. Hilton. “He _is_ stunning!” whispered Marjorie to Ethel, as he took his seat. “Yes, rather. But I like those Melville boys’ looks, too.” Doris, who sat next to Bob Hilton, was already deep in a conversation; while the other scouts, who were grouped together, talked among themselves. They were glad, however, when Mrs. Hilton told them that their places would be changed the following day. “Tomorrow,” she said, “we are going to draw lots for seats at the table, so that you girls can become acquainted with the rest of us. But tonight I thought I’d let you be together.” “Both plans suit beautifully,” said Marjorie, well pleased with her surroundings. “And what do you do in the evenings?” asked Daisy, as casually as she could, although in reality she was dreading the strangeness of this first night on the ranch. “We usually sit on the porch as long as it’s light,” replied Irene. “Some of the boys go for a walk, and some of us play games. Of course, if it is cold we have a fire in the fire-place.” “What games do you play?” asked Lily, brightening. “Bridge?” “Mike and Tom are the only ones who know how,” replied Bob. “But they have both been dying for a game.” At these words the Melville boys became interested. “Do you girls play?” asked Tom, with a broad smile. “That will be great!” “Some of us do,” replied Lily. “I guess I’m the craziest about it. It always bores Marj and Alice.” “I simply can’t sit still that long,” laughed Alice. “And I talk so much it makes everybody furious.” “Well, nobody keeps quiet here!” remarked Bob. “And nobody intends to, either!” he added, emphatically. “I say we have a game after supper!” urged Michael, who was as anxious as his brother to play. “Delighted!” said Lily. “I’ll see that we get another girl. Who volunteers?” “Not I!” said Daisy; “I have to write home.” “And I’m such a poor player,” sighed Doris. “I’d rather join in fan-tan.” “Well, I’d love to, if nobody else cares!” put in Mae.