waiting here for?"

"Come on, then!" I urged her. "We'll leave our mule-load behind
in case they've eaten your horse. Come with us to the stables and--"

But she interrupted me.

"You men go down and get the horses. Do what you can with the crowd.
I'll get the women into something like order if that's possible,
and we'll all meet wherever there's open ground and moonlight at
the foot of the hill."

"I'll come with you," Will proposed. "You'll need--"

"No you won't! The women are easy. They've been taught to obey
orders! It'll take all the wit you three men own between you to
get the men in line! Let's get busy!"

The men had treated the hanging blankets with the respect the ancient
Jews accorded to the veil of the Holy of Holies. (We learned afterward
that there was an Armenian man of the party who had followed a circus
one summer all across the States, and had brought that sensible
precaution home with him as rule number one for successful management
of mixed assemblies.) Gloria Vanderman made a run for the curtain
and dived behind it. We heard the women welcome her.

"Let's go!" said Will.

Will had ever been our ladies' man in all our wanderings, because
women could never resist his unaffected comradeship. Even among