"It ain't no regular heaven, and I ain't no regular Mrs. Saint Peter,"
answered Mrs. Dick with considerable heat, irritated by Bostwick's
personality and recognizing in him Van's "smoke-faced Easterner." She
added crisply: "So you might as well vamoose the ranch, fer I couldn't
even put you in the shed."

"But I've got to have accommodations!" insisted Bostwick. "I prefer
them where my fiancée--where Miss Kent is stopping. I'm sure you can
manage it someway--let someone go. The price is no object to me."

"I don't want you that bad," said Mrs. Dick frankly. "I said no and
I'm too busy to say it again."

She bustled off with her ant-like celerity, followed by Bostwick's
scowls.

"You'll have to give up your apartments here," he said to Beth. "I'll
find something better at once."

"Thank you, I'm very well satisfied," said Beth. "You'll find this
town quite overcrowded."

"You mean you propose to stay here in spite of my wishes?"

"Please don't wish anything absurd," she answered. "This is really no
place for fastidious choosing--and I am very comfortable."

A lanky youth, with a suitcase and three leather bags, came shuffling
around the corner and dropped down his load.