BUG EYE’S ARRIVAL
As Nick Looker said, “The day that the dance was to be that night
dawned bright an’ fair.”
As manager of the entertainment, Roy had to see to it that the floor
was prepared, the furniture moved, and everything made ready for the
great occasion. Although Gus Tripp, because he had a slight fever,
was forbidden by the doctor to take part in the festivities, he
played the part of critical adviser to the rest of the punchers.
From his bedside, he became a director of manly fashions, with the
success of a Beau Brummel. Ethel overheard him speak to Jim Casey,
who had approached him with a question concerning the wearing of a
“diamond” stickpin in a green tie:
“Well, now, Jim, you gotta to use restraint in yore manner of
dress.” Gus declared. “The correctly appointed gentleman don’t
never wear loud clothes. As George Beaumont Fletcher says, when you
come outer a drawing-room--that’s a high-hat name fer picture
gallery--no one ought to be able to tell what you had on. That don’t
mean you should go in a bathin’ suit. It means you should be able to
march in front of a herd of yearlings without stampedin’ ’em. Now
let me see that pin, Jim. Put her in the tie. Now--jest stand over a
bit more--by the window. There! Um--no, I’m afraid not, Jim. She
don’t match. She _clashes_! Yore dress should be like a symfunny
ochestry, Jim. Everything’s gotta match. Now if you was to put that
pin in a _red_ tie, instead of a _green_ one, she might do O. K.
Yep--a _red_ tie is what you need! Then come back an’ let me see how
she looks.”
There were few who dared dispute Gus’s taste in the matter of
clothes, but among these insurgents was Pop Burns. He flatly refused
to listen to Gus.
“I ain’t no dude,” Pop proclaimed forcibly. “If I can’t put on
decent clothes to go to a jamboree without a New Mexican buckeroo
tellin’ me, I’ll dry up an’ blow away. I suppose if Gus didn’t have
a busted arm, he’d be puttin’ on spats an’ carryin’ a cane. Huh! I
goes like a man, not like a bloomin’ fashion dummy!”
But for all Pop’s protests, the preparations went forward with
gusto. Strange to relate, the general store at Eagles was completely
stripped of green ties. To Teddy, this was a mystery until he
happened to hear Norine humming “The Wearing of the Green.” Then
Teddy nodded his head sagely and grinned.
The first thing Nell and Ethel had thought of after it had been
decided to have the dance was, naturally, their “party dresses.”
Each girl had brought one evening gown with her, but these were
fifteen miles away at the 8 X 8. Belle it was who solved the
problem.
“If Teddy or Roy were to ride over for them, they would probably
crush the dresses flat before they got here,” Belle declared. “But I
know what we _can_ do--we can telephone Bug Eye to bring them over
in the flivver. Then they’d get here in plenty of time.”
The two guests fell in with this idea enthusiastically, and asked
their uncle by phone to have his man drive over with the dresses.
Mr. Ball readily agreed, declaring Bug Eye would have them there by
evening unless he got caught in a cyclone.
By late afternoon, the living room had been made ready for the
dance. Belle, Ethel and Nell had, under the direction of Mrs.
Manley, decorated the apartment in truly festive style. Brightly
colored streamers of silk hung from the ceiling, and Roy or Teddy
did not even guess they were Belle’s old hair-ribbons tied together.
Flowers were placed in every available spot, chairs were arranged
along the walls, and in one corner a platform of boards was erected
for the orchestra, which was to consist of Nick Looker, with his
mouth-organ, Sing Lung, violinist extraordinary, and Jim Casey,
“Maestro of the accordion.” Teddy’s offer to be a trap-drummer, with
tin pans for drums, was declined with thanks.
An hour before supper Nell and Belle Ada were in Belle’s room,
trying to decide which of Belle’s light summer dresses she was to
wear. Teddy, Roy, and Ethel were walking in the direction of the
mess-house, to see if the orchestra was prepared to “execute” the
dance numbers. As the three neared the kitchen, a determined voice
reached their ears. Teddy held up his hand and they listened.
“I tell you that ain’t the proper way!” Nick was declaring loudly.
“Now watch me, you iggernant punchers.”
Teddy, Roy, and Ethel stole nearer and peeped through the door. What
they saw caused Ethel to clap her hand to her mouth to avoid
bursting into laughter.
The cowboys were standing about in attitudes of rapt attention. In
the center was Sing Lung, a tablecloth around his waist, an old,
faded, blue-cloth hat on his head, and a simpering grin on his face.
The interpretation was obvious. He was made up to resemble a girl!
Toward him walked Nick Looker, his right hand resting on his chest,
his head bent deferentially.
Striding to within a pace of the cook, Nick bowed low.
“I begs you to excuse the liberty,” he said with a precious accent,
“but may I have the honor of this jig?”
“_Dance_, not _jig_, you Indian!” Rad Sell roared. “A gentleman
don’t never ask a lady to _jig_!”
Nick turned a haughty look upon the interrupter.
“Who’s doin’ this askin’; you or me?” he demanded coldly.
“All right! All right! Go ahead in yore own dumb way! You’ll learn!”
“I’m tryin’ to learn you birds!” Nick exclaimed. “I know how! Now
look! You goes up to Norine an’--I mean you goes up to the lady an’
bows. Then you says: ‘Pardon me fer takin’ the liberty, ma’am, but
mahvis dance?’”
“What? What was that last?”
“Mahvis dance! Didn’t you ever hear that, you iggernant
bronco-busters? That’s what you say when you want to waltz--you say
‘mahvis dance, please’?”
“But what’s it _mean_?” Nat Raymond demanded.
“I don’t know what it means,” Nick answered. “But you _gotta_ say
it. All the tony gents do. ‘Mahvis dance?’ Like that.”
“What on earth can he mean?” Ethel asked in a whisper of the boys.
“I never heard anything like it in my life! And will you look at
Sing Lung! Honestly, I--”
“Sh-h-h!” Teddy warned, with a grin. “This is good! Listen! Maybe
we’ll find out what he means later.”
So intent were the punchers on the etiquette of the ballroom, as
expounded by Mr. Nick Looker, that they never glanced in the
direction of the door. With suppressed mirth that threatened to
break all bounds at any moment, Ethel, Roy, and Teddy watched the
scene.
“Now what I do?” Sing Lung wanted to know. “I mebby kiss you, hey?”
“No! No!” Nick roared, his face a fiery red. “You don’t do nothin’
of the kind! You say ‘Cern’ly, pleecetuh!’ That’s all. Go on, say
it.”
“Celn’ly, pleecetuh,” simpered Sing Lung.
“That’s right! Here, Nat, you try it. Don’t forget, Sing is a lady,
even though he don’t know it. Go ahead!”
With an exaggerated gait, Nat Raymond strutted forward. Bowing down,
he said to Sing Lung:
“Askin’ your liberty fer a-takin’ of the pardon, ma’am,
but--but--Nick, why in thunder don’t you dry up and blow away! I
can’t remember that crazy thing you say!”
“Celn’ly, pleecetuh!” Sing Lung replied. He was doing his part.
Nick threw his hat on the floor in disgust.
“Mahvis dance, you bonehead!” he shouted. “Mahvis dance! Mahvis
dance! Can’t you remember that?”
Roy could hold in no longer. He burst out in a roar of laughter.
“I know what he means now!” he gasped. “Oh, for Pete’s sake! He
means, ‘_May I have this dance!_’ Wow! Hold me up, somebody! Mahvis
dance! Jimminy! I’m going to cave in, sure! Nick, you old--” and
vainly Roy struggled for breath.
Like a flash, every head turned in the direction of the door. Nick
grinned in embarrassment. Sing Lung, with a yell, tore off the apron
and hat.
“I’m sorry, Nick, but I couldn’t help it!” Roy gasped. “We just
happened to hear what you said. Sing, you sure are one fine lady!
Excuse me, boys, but I just have to--” and he went off in another
gale of merriment.
Ethel and Teddy were doing their best to preserve straight faces,
but the strain was too much. They, too, started to laugh.
“Sure, go ahead!” Nick said, with a grin. “We don’t mind it. I was
just showin’ the boys how to act tonight. You see, they don’t know
nothin’ about polite society, an’ I--”
“Yea, I suppose you know it all!” Pop Burns burst out. “Teddy,
what’s that crazy thing this coot’s been tellin’ us. What does
‘mahvis dance’ mean?”
“It means ‘may I have this dance!’” Teddy answered. “Nick, you take
the first prize. Where did you ever hear that?”
“What, mahvis dance?” Nick asked. “Why, that’s what those New
Yorkers said over at Easton when they had that dance fer the benefit
of the starvin’ Negroes or somethin’. I went to it, so I know. But
these hyenas, here, don’t pay no attention to me!”
“You just go on explaining to them, Nick,” Ethel advised, with a
smile. “You’re perfectly right. ‘Mahvis dance’ is correct.”
“There, I told you!” Nick exclaimed triumphantly. “Now mebby you’ll
listen! I _knew_ I was right!”
“He’s your friend for life,” Roy declared, with a grin, as he,
Ethel, and Teddy walked back to the house, leaving the cowboys to
“professor” Nick Looker. “Say, this dance will be a riot! I’ll bet
every one of those boys, except, maybe, Pop Burns, is in love with
Norine! There’s going to be some wild struggle to decide who has the
first waltz with her!”
Supper at the X Bar X was quickly concluded, and the hour for the
dance approached. By dint of much coaxing, Gus obtained permission
to sit on the side and watch.
“Won’t hurt me a bit,” he proclaimed. “I feel fine! Arm don’t hurt
a-tall.”
As the darkness deepened, Nell and Ethel became somewhat worried
about their evening dresses. Surely Bug Eye should have been here by
now. Mr. Manley went to the phone and called up the 8 X 8. When he
returned his face wore a puzzled look.
“Pete Ball says Bug Eye started three hours ago. He’s got your
dresses in the flivver, an’ said he should have reached here by six
o’clock. Something must have happened to him--a puncture, or a
blowout. We’ll just have to wait, that’s all.”
A half hour went by, and still no Bug Eye. Nell and Ethel began to
grow restless. The party would be a total failure without their
evening dresses, they felt.
“Do you think he’ll come?” Nell asked Mr. Manley, over and over
again.
“Unless he’s hurt, he will,” the cattle owner responded. “I guess
he’ll get here before the dance starts. We’ll wait till late before
the music begins.”
But when nine o’clock arrived and there was still no sign of Bug Eye
with the dresses, it was decided to go ahead. Ethel and Nell were
disappointed, but they made the best of it. Belle and her mother
lent them some scarfs and accessories, but they did not have dresses
that would fit either of the visitors.
“I guess we’ll just have to go without party gowns,” Nell sighed
regretfully. “But it would have been such fun if we could only be
dressed up like you, Belle!”
“Never mind, the boys won’t know the difference,” Belle consoled
them. “And certainly Teddy and Roy won’t mind. You can have just as
much fun in knockabout dresses. Anyway, Bug Eye might still arrive.”
By nine-thirty all hope of getting the dresses was abandoned, and
the “orchestra” started to tune up. Sing Lung drew his bow across
the fiddle strings. Nick let out a blast on his mouth-organ. Jim
Casey sent into the air a long, wailing note from his accordion.
Every person on the ranch had gathered in the living room. Pop Burns
had his shoes polished until they rivaled the high-lights of his
bald head. Gus Tripp sat proudly in the seat of honor at the side of
the room, his arm swathed in bandages. Rad Sell was resplendent in a
new yellow-striped shirt. Also it was noticed that Nick Looker had
given up the idea of a diamond stickpin. He had on a green tie, as
did every other hand on the ranch. The punchers were waiting eagerly
for the music to start. And, Teddy noted gleefully, Norine stood
demurely in a corner, garbed in a _red_ dress!
Mr. and Mrs. Manley watched the scene with happy smiles. They were
parents of children almost grown, but there were no younger people
in that room than those two.
Teddy walked to the middle of the floor.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he exclaimed pompously. “The dance is about
to begin! Orchestra, are you all ready?”
“All set, Teddy!”
“We’re ready!”
“We can do music when you say yes!”
“Then choose your partners!”
There was a wild rush. From the orchestra burst forth a strange
medley of sounds. Heavy shoes shuffled over the floor. Norine,
surrounded by eager punchers, laughed with delight.
Just then the outer door burst suddenly open. There was a quick
shout. The music stopped in a harsh discord. All eyes were focused
upon the entrance.
Leaning against the jamb, panting brokenly, his clothes covered with
dust, stood Bug Eye. He looked around him wearily.
“Boys,” he gasped, “I’ve been robbed! The flivver’s gone! A gang of
rustlers held me up! I had to walk for miles to get here! The
thieves--they took the flivver, dresses, and everything, and left me
flat! An’, by golly, I know who done it, too!”