Ruth first of all took Jane Ann into her confidence. The ranchman's
niece had been going about the room renewing her acquaintance with the
"neighbors," some of whom lived forty miles from Silver Ranch. The
Western girl was proud of the friends she had made "Down East," too, and
she was introducing them all, right and left. But Ruth pinched her arm
and signified that she wished to see her alone for a moment.
"Now, Nita," the girl from the Red Mill whispered, "we want to see that
Mr. Stedman has a good time to-night. You know, he's been awfully good
to us all."
"Bashful Ike?" exclaimed Jane Ann.
"Yes. And we must give him so good a time that he will forget to be
bashful."
"He's a right good feller--yes," admitted Jane Ann, somewhat puzzled.
"But what can we do for him?"
"Every one of us girls from the ranch must dance with him."
"Oh, crickey!" chuckled Jane Ann, suddenly. "You want to try to make
Sally Dickson jealous, don't you?"
"No. I only want to make her see that Ike is popular, even if she
doesn't think him worth being kind to. And Ike _is_ worth being kind to.
He's a gentleman, and as kind-hearted a man as I ever saw."
"He's all of that," admitted the Western girl. "But he's so clumsy--"
"Forget that!" exclaimed Ruth. "And make _him_ forget his clumsiness.
He's as good as gold and deserves better treatment at the hands of Sally
than he has been getting. Of course, she won't be jealous of us young
girls----"
"Humph! 'Young girls,'" scoffed Jane Ann. "I don't think we're so awful
young."
"Well, we're too young to be accused of trying to take Sally's beau away
from her," cried Ruth, merrily. "Now, you'll make him dance with you--and
first, too. He'll have to if you say so, for he's your uncle's foreman."
"I'll do it," agreed Jane Ann.
Ruth of course found Helen ready and willing to agree to her plan, and
Madge did not need much urging. They all liked Ike Stedman, and although
the brisk little schoolmistress seemed to be a very nice girl, the
foreman of Silver Ranch was quite worthy of her.
"If he dares to dance with me," chuckled Heavy, "I am willing to keep it
up all the evening. That is, if you think such a course, Ruthie, will
awaken Miss Dickson to poor Ike's good points."
"And how about those blisters you were complaining about the other day?"
asked Madge, slyly.
"Pshaw! what girl ever remembered blisters when she could dance?"
responded the stout girl, with scorn.
Ruth had all but The Fox in line when the violin struck up the first
number; she did not think it wise to speak to Mary about the plan, for
she feared that the latter would refuse to cooperate. The boys came
straggling in at the first notes of Helen's violin, and there were no
medals on Ike Stedman for bashfulness at first. Tom Cameron, spurred on
by his sister, broke the ice and went at once to the school-teacher and
asked for the dance. Bob followed suit by taking Mary Cox for a partner
(Mary engineered _that_), and soon the sets began to form while Helen
played her sprightliest.
The young men crowded in awkwardly and when Jane Ann saw the tall figure
of Ike just outside the door she called to him:
"Come on in, Mr. Stedman. You know this is our dance. Hurry up!"
Now Ike usually didn't get up sufficient courage to appear upon the
floor until half the evening was over, and there was a deal of chuckling
and nudging when the foreman, his face flaming, pushed into the room.
But he could not escape "the boss' niece." Jane Ann deliberately led him
into the set of which Tom and Sally Dickson were the nucleus.
"My great aunt!" groaned Ike. "Just as like as not, honey, I'll trample
all over you an' mash yo' feet. It's like takin' life in your han's to
dance with me."
"Mebbe I better take my feet in my hands, according to your warning,
Ike," quoth Jane Ann. "Aw, come on, I reckon I can dodge your feet, big
as they are."
Nor did Bashful Ike prove to be so poor a dancer, when he was once on
the floor. But he went through the figures of the dance with a face--so
Jane Ann said afterward--that flamed like a torchlight procession every
time he came opposite to Sally Dickson.
"I see you're here early, Mr. Stedman," said the red-haired
schoolmistress, as she was being swung by the giant cow puncher in one
of the figures. "Usually you're like Parson Brown's cow's tail--always
behind!"
"They drug me in, Sally--they just drug me in," explained the suffering
Ike.
"Well, do brace up and look a little less like you was at your own
funeral!" snapped the schoolmistress.
This sharp speech would have completely quenched Ike's desire to dance
had Ruth not laid her plans so carefully. The moment the music ceased
and Ike made for the door, Heavy stopped him. She was between the
bashful cow puncher and all escape--unless he went through the window!
"Oh, Mr. Stedman! I do so want to dance," cried the stout girl, with her
very broadest and friendliest smile. "Nobody asked me to this time, and
I just know they're all afraid of me. Do I look as though I bite?"
"Bless you, no, Miss!" responded the polite foreman of Silver Ranch.
"You look just as harmless as though you'd never cut a tooth, as fur as
that goes!"
"Then you're not afraid to dance the next number with me? There! Helen's
tuning up."
"If you re'lly want me to, Miss," exclaimed the much-flurried foreman.
"But I won't mislead ye. I ain't a good dancer."
"Then there will be a pair of us," was Heavy's cheerful reply. "If the
other folk run off the floor, we'll be company for each other."
Carefully rehearsed by Ruth Fielding, Jennie Stone likewise picked the
group of dancers of which Sally Dickson and a new partner were members;
and once again Bashful Ike found himself close to the object of his
adoration.
"Hullo, Ike! you back again?" demanded Sally, cheerfully, as they
clasped hands in a "walk-around." "I believe you are getting to be a
regular lady's man."
"Aw--now--Sally!"
"So that Ruth Fielding says," laughed Sally. "You're sure popular with
those youngsters."
Ike grinned feebly. But he was feeling better. He had actually forgotten
his feet--even in Sally's presence. Jennie Stone, although an all too
solid bit of humanity, was remarkably light upon her feet when it came
to dancing. Indeed, she was so good a dancer that she steered Ike over
the floor to such good purpose that he--as well as other people--began to
believe that Bashful Ike was no more awkward than the next man off the
range.
"Why, Ruthie!" whispered Madge Steele, who was the next "victim" in
line. "Ike is a regular Beau Brummel beside some of these fellows. Look
at Heavy steering him around! And look at the teacher watching them.
Humph! young lady I believe you're got a 'great head on you,' to quote
Master Bobbie."
"Now, you be real nice to him, Madge," Ruth urged.
"Of course I shall, child," replied Miss Steele, with her most
"grown-uppish" air. "He's nice anyway; and if we can 'wake teacher' up
to his importance, I'll gladly do my part."
"If it only gives him a grain of confidence in himself, I shall be
satisfied," declared Ruth. "That is what Ike lacks."
The foreman of Silver Ranch was coming out pretty strong, however. The
Virginia Reel was the favorite dance, and when Helen stopped playing the
applause was so great, that she responded with a repetition of the whole
figure; so Ike and Heavy continued on the floor for a much longer
period, and the big cowpuncher gained more ease of manner. When they
ceased dancing the stout girl led her escort right into the clutches of
Madge Steele.
Now, Madge was taller than the schoolmistress and in her city-made gown
looked years older. The boys were rather afraid of Madge when she "put
on the real thing," as her brother inelegantly expressed it, for she
seemed then quite a young lady grown!
"I really believe you Western men are gallant, Mr. Stedman," she
announced. "Chivalrous, and unafraid, and bold, and all that. I am
deeply disappointed."
"How's that, Miss?" exclaimed poor Ike.
"I haven't had an invitation to dance yet," pursued Madge. "If I had
scarletina, or the measles--or even the mumps--I do not think I should be
more avoided by the male portion of the assembly. What do you suppose is
the matter with me, Mr. Stedman?"
"Why, I--I----"
Ike was on the verge of declaring that he would find her a partner if he
had to use a gun to get one to come forward; but he was inspired for
once to do the right thing. He really bowed before Madge with something
of a flourish, as the tinkle of the violin strings began again.
"If you think you can stand _me_, Miss Steele," declared the big
foreman, "I'd be near about tickled to death to lead you out myself."
"You are very good," said Madge, demurely. "But are you sure--I think
that pretty little teacher is looking this way. You are not neglecting
any old friends for _me_ I hope, Mr. Stedman?"
Ike's face flamed again furiously. He stole a glance at Sally Dickson,
who had just refused Jimsey for a partner--and with sharpness.
"I'm pretty sure I'll be a whole lot better off with you, Miss," he
admitted. "Jest now, especially."
Madge's ringing laugh caught Sally's ear, as the Eastern girl bore the
foreman of Silver Ranch off to join the next set of dancers. The teacher
did not dance that number at all.
Mrs. "Jule" Marvin, the young and buxom wife of the owner of the Two-Ten
Ranch, caught Ike's hand and whispered loudly:
"I never suspected you was such a heart-breaker, Ike. Goodness me!
you're dancing every dance, and with a new partner each time. I haven't
got to be left out in the cold just because I'm married to Tom, I hope?
He can't dance with that game leg, poor old man! You going to save a
dance for me, Ike?"
"Suah's your bawn, honey!" responded the foreman, who was beginning to
enjoy his prominence and had known Mrs. Jule for years. "The next one's
yours if you say the word."
"You're my meat, then, Ike," declared the jolly Western matron, as she
glided away with her present partner.
So there was a little rift in Ruth Fielding's scheme, for Ike danced
next with the ranchman's wife. But that pleased the girl from the Red
Mill and her fellow conspirators quite as well. Ike was no neglected
male "wall-flower." Sally only skipped one dance; but she watched the
big foreman with growing wonder.
A rest was due Helen anyway; and Bob Steele was at hand with his
never-failing harmonica. "The heart-rending strains," as Madge termed
the rather trying music from the mouth-organ, were sufficiently lively
for most of the party, and the floor was filled with dancers when Helen
captured Ike and he led her into a set just forming.
"You must be the best dancer among the men, Mr. Ike," declared Ruth's
chum, dimpling merrily. "You are in such demand."
"I b'lieve you gals have jest been ladlin' the syrup intuh me, Miss
Cam'ron," Ike responded, but grinning with growing confidence. "It's
been mighty nice of you."
"You'd better give Sally a chance pretty soon," whispered Helen. "There
is surely fire in her eye."
"Great Peter!" groaned Ike. "I'm almost afraid to meet up with her now."
"Pluck up your spirit, sir!" commanded Helen. And she maneuvered so
that, when the dance was done, they stood right next to Sally Dickson
and her last partner.
"Well, ain't you the busy little bee, Ike," said the school-teacher, in
a low voice. "Are you bespoke for the rest of the evening? These
young-ones certainly have turned your head."
"Me, Sally?" responded her bashful friend. "They like tuh dance, I
reckon, like all other young things--an' the other boys seem kinder
backward with 'em; 'cause they're Bawston, I s'pose."
"Humph!" ejaculated Miss Sally; "you ain't such a gump as to believe all
that. That little Smartie, Ruth Fielding, planned all this, I bet a
cent!"
"Miss Ruth?" queried Ike, in surprise. "Why, I ain't danced with her at
all."
"Nor you ain't a-goin' to!" snapped Sally. "You can dance with me for a
spell now." And for the remainder of that hilarious evening Sally
scarcely allowed Bashful Ike out of her clutches.