They came very nearly breaking their tuneful resolve, however, much sooner than they expected. It happened in this way. Dick Davis unwittingly precipitated the trouble. According to promise, Alta gave him the first dance, and Dick rather presumed on her partnership for the evening. “That was a dandy dance,” he said as he took her to her seat. “I enjoyed it,” she responded. It was no flattery either; for Dick did dance well. He was rather a handsome fellow, too, with dark hair and eyes. He was of athletic build, rather slender and wiry, graceful of movement, neat in his dress, and possessing the assurance which Fred lacked to make him claim quickly the attention of the girls. Dick’s chief faults were his conceit and his fickleness, a hint of which was given by his slightly uptilted nose that detracted somewhat from his otherwise regular countenance. “I’d sure like another just like it,” he suggested; “will you?” “Why, yes, if you wish it.” So a little while later they waltzed again, while Bud Nixon, who had planted his stockily built body in the corner among some of the bolder girls, still kept close watch of the movements of the graceful couple. The jealous glance that blazed in his dark eyes boded no good for Dick; for Bud was a determined fellow, once he started on a quest. He was reckless too; and this characteristic, backed by his strong body, made him a dangerous enemy. Dick kept so close to Alta during the dance that Bud gradually grew inwardly furious. He determined to break up the flirting. How to do it was the problem his thick brain finally worked out. When Dick for the third time led Alta out to dance, Bud jumped up, grabbed the arm of Molly Thompson, who sat near him, giggling over his coarse jokes, and said, “Let’s hev a dance, little gal.” Molly was ready enough, and soon they were swinging rapidly around the room. Suddenly, with malice aforethought on Bud’s part, they bumped into Dick and Alta. Bud laughed leeringly at his rudeness. “That’s all right for once, pardner,” Dick said, threateningly, as they caught the step again. Instinctively he felt that it was not an accident; but he overlooked the challenging insult till Bud bumped into them again with a suddenness that almost upset both him and Alta. Dick whirled and slapped him in the face. They jumped back. A second later two revolvers flashed and a shot went crashing through the window just over the old fiddler’s head. Both had pulled the trigger, but Dick’s hammer snapped on an empty shell; Bud’s bullet, sent by a half drunken hand, just touched Dick’s ear and shattered the window close to Uncle Toby, who was scraping away sleepily on his fiddle. “Whoopee!” shouted the old man, jumping as if he had been shot, and tumbling off his seat. There was a sudden rush for the doorway.