“Breakfast’s ready anyhow,” Old Heck added.

“And Skinny ain’t shaved or powdered his face yet—­” Chuck laughed; “these lovers ought to fix themselves up better!”

“Shut up, you blamed idiot, ain’t you got no respect?” Parker said as they turned toward the house.

“Listen at Parker, he’s one of them, too,” Chuck continued; “this is his day to be a sweetheart to the widow!”

“I’d rather have Skinny’s job,” Bert said with a snicker, “I’d be afraid of Ophelia—­”

“Why?”

“She acts too gentle to start with”—­”

“Give her time,” Charley suggested, “she’ll bu’st loose when she gets better acquainted!”

“Her and Old Heck got pretty well introduced last night, holding hands the way they did, and—­”

“Dry up,” Old Heck interposed with a foolish grin, “and come on to breakfast!”

Carolyn June and Ophelia were charmingly fresh and interesting in dainty blue and lavender morning gowns.  A bowl of roses, plucked by Ophelia from the crimson rambler by the south window, rested in the center of the table.  The cowboys saw the flowers and exchanged glances.  Old Heck and Skinny blushed.

Carolyn June noticed the vacant place at her right.

“Th’ Ramblin’ Kid ain’t up yet,” Skinny volunteered.

“Then the storm did drive him to shelter, after all?” Carolyn June asked with the barest trace of contempt in her voice.

“I wouldn’t hardly say that,” Bert Lilly remarked, holding his cup for Sing Pete to fill with coffee; “—­he brought in the Gold Dust maverick.”

“Yes,” Chuck said with mock gravity, “it was quite an undertaking—­he sprinkled salt on her tail—­”

“How clever!” Ophelia exclaimed, looking interested, “and is that the way they catch—­mavericks?” stumbling over the unusual word.

“Chuck’s joking,” Parker said; “he always was foolish—­”

“Uncle Josiah,” Carolyn June asked suddenly, “can you take Ophelia to Eagle Butte to-day?”

“I—­Parker can,” Old Heck answered, “if he can drive the car.  Still there are probably some pretty bad washouts—­”

Ophelia looked quickly at Old Heck, interested by the note she detected in his voice.

“I—­I—­got some work to do,” he continued, “if you could wait till to-morrow”—­addressing the widow—­“I could more than likely go myself—­”

“I guess I can handle the car all right,” Parker said, looking significantly at Old Heck; “the roads will be dried up in a little while.”

“It’s Parker’s day anyhow and he don’t want to miss—­” Chuck started to say.

“After breakfast,” Old Heck interrupted, scowling at the cowboy, “Chuck and Pedro had better both ride-line on the upper pasture.  The cattle probably went against the fence in the storm last night and knocked off a lot of wire.  Of course, Skinny will have to stay here,” he added, “and the rest of us, except Parker, ought to look after the fences in the east bottoms—­from the looks of the river this morning a lot of posts and wire must be washed out.”