Her voice was musical, but her accent and manner were those of a girl who has lived all her life among men and has caught their ways—­with an exaggeration of that self-confidence which a woman always feels among Western men.  Her blue eyes were upon Dan.

“Ain’t you a long ways from home?” she went on.

The rest of the table, perceiving the drift of her badgering, broke into a rumbling bass chuckle.

“Quite a ways,” said Dan, and his wide brown eyes looked seriously back at her.

A yell of delight came from the men at this naive rejoinder.  Dan looked about him with a sort of childish wonder.  Calder’s anxious whisper came at his side:  “Don’t let them get you mad, Dan!” Jacqueline, having scored so heavily with her first shot, was by no means willing to give up her sport.

“With them big eyes, for a starter,” she said, “all you need is long hair to be perfect.  Do your folks generally let you run around like this?”

Every man canted his ear to get the answer and already they were grinning expectantly.

“I don’t go out much,” returned the soft voice of Dan, “an’ when I do, I go with my friend, here.  He takes care of me.”

Another thunder of laughter broke out.  Jacqueline had apparently uncovered a tenderfoot, and a rare one even for that absurd species.  A sandy-haired cattle puncher who sat close to Jacqueline now took the cue from the mistress of the house.

“Ain’t you a bit scared when you get around among real men?” he asked, leering up the table towards Dan.

The latter smiled gently upon him.

“I reckon maybe I am,” he said amiably.

“Then you must be shakin’ in your boots right now,” said the other over the sound of the laughter.

“No, said Dan,” “I feel sort of comfortable.”

The other replied with a frown that would have intimidated a balky horse.

“What d’you mean?  Ain’t you jest said men made you sort of—­nervous?”

He imitated the soft drawl of Dan with his last words and raised another yell of delight from the crowd.  Whistling Dan turned his gentle eyes upon Jacqueline.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” he began.

An instant hush fell on the men.  They would not miss one syllable of the delightful remarks of this rarest of all tenderfoots, and the prelude of this coming utterance promised something that would eclipse all that had gone before.

“Talk right out, Brown-eyes,” said Jacqueline, wiping the tears of delight from her eyes.  “Talk right out as if you was a man. I won’t hurt you.”

“I jest wanted to ask,” said Dan, “if these are real men?”

The ready laughter started, checked, and died suddenly away.  The cattlemen looked at each other in puzzled surprise.

“Don’t they look like it to you, honey?” asked Jacqueline curiously.

Dan allowed his eyes to pass lingeringly around the table from face to face.