Freoff, but the violin
was shrieking enticingly and the voice of the master of ceremonies in
alluring command floated up the stairway:

"Choose your partners for a waltz, gents!"

She jerked her head at Augusta Kunkel.

"Come along--don't sit up here and mope."

Andy P. Symes, waiting in the hall below, was a little puzzled by the
intentness of the newcomer's gaze as she descended the stairs, but at
the bottom he extended a huge hand:

"I'm glad you decided to join us, Miss----"

"Harpe--Doctor Emma Harpe."

"Oh," surprised amusement was in his tone, "you've come to settle among
us, perhaps? Permit me to welcome you, Dr. Harpe. We are to be
congratulated. Our nearest physician is sixty miles away, so you will
have the field to yourself. You should prosper. Do you come from the
East?"

She looked him in the eyes.

"St. Louis."

"Take your pardners for the waltz, gents!"

Andy P. Symes held out his arms in smiling invitation while the news
flashed round the room that the newcomer with the cold, immobile face,
the peculiar pallor of which contrasted strongly with their own
sun-blistered skins, was a "lady-doctor" who had come to live in
Crowheart.

The abandon, the freedom of it all, appealed strongly to Dr. Harpe. The
atmosphere was congenial, and when the waltz was done she asked that she
might be allowed to sit quietly for a time since she found herself more
fatigued by her long journey than she had realized; but, in truth, she
desired to familiarize herself with the character of the people among
whom her future work lay.

A noisy, heterogeneous gathering it was, boisterous without vulgarity,
free without familiarity. There were no covert glances of dislike or
envy, no shrugs of disdain, no whispered innuendoes. The social lines
which breed these things did not exist. Every man considered his
neighbor and his neighbor's wife as good as himself and his genuine
liking was in his frank glance, his hearty tones, his beaming, friendly
smile. Men and women looked at each other clear-eyed and straight.

The piercing "yips" of cowboys meant nothing but an excess of spirits.
The stamping of feet, the shouts and laughter were indicative only of
effervescent youth seeking an outlet. Most were young, all were full of
life and hope, and the world was far away, that world where clothes and
money matter.

The scene was typical of a new town in the frontier West. The old
settlers and the new mingled gaily. The old