edge was that yere purple necktie an' pink-striped shirt you're wearin'. Ev'ry gal that danced with you, Jimsey, was in danger of gettin' cross-eyed lookin' at that ne-fa-ri-ous combination."
Sunday was a quiet day at the ranch. Although there was no church nearer than Bullhide, Bill Hicks made a practice of doing as little work as possible on the first day of the week, and his gangs were instructed to simply keep the herds in bounds.
At the ranch house Ruth and her girl friends arranged a song-service for the evening to which all the men about the home corral, and those who could be spared to ride in from the range, were invited. This broke up several card games in the bunk house—games innocent in themselves, perhaps, but an amusement better engaged in on week days.
The boys gathered in the dusk on the wide porch and listened to the really beautiful music that the girls had learned at Briarwood Hall. Ruth was in splendid voice, and her singing was applauded warmly by the cowboys.
"My soul, Bud! " gasped Jimsey. "Couldn't that leetle gal jest sing a herd of millin' cattle to by-low on the night trick, with that yere voice of hers?"
"Uh-huh!" agreed Bud. 'She could stop a stampede, she could."
