the horses Miss
Asquith said to Hazel, "Oh, Mrs. Sheppard, isn't that a stunning
turnout? I guess it must be my rich farmer." To which Hazel nodded
assent, remarking through her smiles, "There's no telling."

Chiquita joined in the merriment with a suggestion, "Suppose, Miss
Asquith, you let me get some Indian lovers' ferns and you dry them, then
crush them with your own hands while you chant some lines which one of
the great Sachems, in time long ago, obtained from a good spirit; and
the good spirit promised the great Sachem that any of his maidens could
cause an obstinate lover to woo her, or make a recreant spouse return to
the side of his love if the maiden or wife would mix some of the ferns
with some killikinnick, so the object of solicitude would smoke himself
into her presence."

"Oh! That is just lovely. I think I would rather have one smell kind of
smoky any how. I just abominate these scrupulously clean men who
saturate the atmosphere with Jockey Club; it is too much like 'shop.'
Ugh!"

"Sh!" said Hazel, "they are coming. Welcome, Mr. Wagner, and here is a
poor unfortunate, Mr. Wagner, who is on her way to China; she says she
is going to bring back a Chinaman or die in the attempt--Miss Asquith."

"You need not go to China for 'em. I've got one down at the ranch that
I'd just as lieve swap as not."

"Is he the genuine article with a dragon on his blouse?" retorted Miss
Asquith. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wagner."

"Thanks; and, Chiquita, who would have thought it? You here, and, well,
this beats me," turning to Jack, who was enjoying the scene.

"My surprise I promised you," said he.

"Surprise, well I should say so, sure as gun's made of iron, but tell
me--"

"I'll tell you myself," broke in Chiquita. "Yamanatz's daughter has been
to college for the last six or eight years. Chiquita has adopted the
life of her white sisters." She said it rather regretfully, Cal thought,
but he replied:

"The flower of the Utes is a daisy, sure as gun's made of iron."

"Now, Mr. Wagner, that is not fair; you might have said something nice
about me," playfully remarked Miss Asquith.

"I suppose I never will be forgiven for such a lack of good manners,"
said Cal, continuing in that open-hearted off-hand way, "but let me tell
you how I will even up. Tomorrow morning you shall ride that roan for me
and the rest of us will trail along behind and take your dust, for that
horse is a thoroughbred."