outfit."

"She ce'tainly rides herd on that machine like a champeen,"
admitted Soapy. "I reckon I'll drift over to the Lazy D with you
to look after yore remains, Tex, when the lightning hits you."

Miss Messiter swung the automobile round in a swift circle, came
to an abrupt halt in front of the hotel, and alighted without
delay. As she passed in through the half score of admirers she
had won, her dark eyes swept smilingly over assembled Cattleland.
She had already met most of them at the launching of the machine
from the flat car, and had directed their perspiring energies as
they labored to follow her orders. Now she nodded a recognition
with a little ripple of gay laughter.

"I'm delighted to be able to contribute to the entertainment of
Gimlet Butte," she said, as she swept in. For this young woman
was possessed of Western adaptation. It gave her no conscientious
qualms to exchange conversation fraternal with these genial
savages.

The Elk House did not rejoice in a private dining room, and
competition strenuous ensued as to who should have the pleasure
of sitting beside the guest of honor. To avoid ill feeling, the
matter was determined by a game of freeze-out, in which Texas and
a mature gentleman named, from his complexion, "Beet" Collins,
were the lucky victors. Texas immediately repaired to the general
store, where he purchased a new scarlet bandanna for the
occasion; also a cake of soap with which to rout the alkali dust
that had filtered into every pore of his hands and face from a