," Casey threatened. He
added craftily: "This lady _tyee_ lady. All same mandarin's daughter.
_Hiyu_ rich!"

"Ho!" said Feng thoughtfully. "_Hiyu_ lich, eh? All light. Me clean
housee."

But, though he had won this diplomatic victory, Casey was not
satisfied. Finally he took his perplexities to Sheila, enlisting her
aid in problems of decoration and the like.

"Where does this Miss Burnaby come in?" she asked. "Who is she?"

Casey told her, and she frowned dubiously.

"Seems to me you butted into real society when you went outside, Casey.
If she has all that money she's apt to be pernickity. I hate fussy
women. Is she pretty?"

"Why--yes, I think so," he admitted. "Oh, yes, she's pretty--no doubt
about that. But I don't think she's fussy. You'll like her, Sheila. She
doesn't scare or rattle easily. In some ways she reminds me of you."

"Thank you. And how do you know she doesn't scare or rattle?"

He evaded the question. "I don't think she would."

"Why didn't you ever mention her before?"

"Never thought of it. I hadn't the least notion that Mrs. Wade was
coming, let alone Miss Burnaby. You see, it puts me up against it. I'll
be ever so much obliged if you'll help me out."

"I'll come over and arrange things in the rooms, of course," Sheila
acquiesced.

And so, when Casey awaited the coming of the train which bore his
guests, it was with the knowledge that his rough-and-tumble, quarters
had been made as presentable as possible.

Wade and his party descended, attended by an obsequious porter laden
with bags, and in a moment Casey was shaking hands.

"And so this is your country!" said Mrs. Wade eying her surroundings
rather dubiously. In her heart she was appalled at the prospect of
passing several weeks in such a place.

"Well, some of it isn't mine," he laughed. "I wish it were. This is
only the makings, Mrs. Wade. Wait a few years. Now, here's what we do.
We have dinner at the hotel. Afterward we drive out to the ranch where
you are all to stay."

Wade and his wife protested. They couldn't think of it. Clyde said
nothing. Casey appealed to her.

"What do you say Miss Burnaby? Will you brave the discomforts of a
shack in the dry belt?"

"I'm in the hands of my friends," she laughed.

"That includes me," said Casey. "Everything's fixed for you. This is my
stamping ground, and I'm boss. What I say goes." He introduced Mr.
Quilty, who was hovering in the background, and chuckled as that
garrulou