the two, with anxiety not unmixed with
cynicism, watched Battersleigh as he made several ineffectual attempts to
penetrate the armour of the pie.

"Stop lookin' at me like a brace o' evil-minded hyenies," protested
Battersleigh. "Ye'd make the devil himself nervous, a-reghardin' one so
like a object o' suspicion. Mind ye, I'm goin' to take it out. There's
nothin' at all whativver in that ijee of stickin' it with a straw.
Moreover, these straws is shameful."

The others watched him eagerly as he removed the hot tin from the oven
and set it upon the bare table.

"I'm thinkin' it looks a bit dumpish midships, Ned," said Battersleigh
dubiously. "But there's one thing shure, ye'll find all the apples in
it, for I've watched the stove door meself, and there's been no
possibility fer them to escape. And of course ye'll not forgit that the
apples is the main thing in an apple pie. The crust is merely a
secondary matter." Battersleigh said this in an airy manner which
disarmed criticism. Curly drew his clasp knife from his pocket and cut
into the portion assigned to him. Franklin was reserved, but Curly
attained enthusiasm at the second bite.

"Rile Irish," said he, "I'm not so sure you're such a h----l of a military
man, but as a cook you're a burnin' success. You kin sign with our
outfit tomorrer if you want to. Man, if I could bake pie like that, I'd
break the Bar O outfit before the season was over! An' if I ever could
git all the pie I wanted to eat, I wouldn't care how quick after that I
fanned out. This here is the real thing. That pie that our cook made on
the Cimarron--why, it was made of dried apples. Why didn't you tell me
you had real apples?"

The pie, startling as it was in some regards, did not long survive the
determined assault made upon it. Curly wiped his knife on the leg of his
"chaps" and his mouth on the back of his hand.

"But say, fellers," he said, "I plumb forgot what I come over here for.
They's goin' to be a dance over to town, an' I come to tell you about it.
O' course you'll come."

"What sort of a dance can it be, man?" said Battersleigh.

"Why, a plumb dandy dance; reg'lar high-steppin' outfit; _mucha baille_;
best thing ever was in this settlement."

"I'm curious to know where the ladies will come from," said Franklin.

"Don't you never worry," rejoined Curly. "They's plenty o' women-folks.
Why, there's the section boss, his wife--you know her--she does the
washin' fo