GETTING STARTED 13 
“‘We sure ought to have a baile before he leaves,”’ 
suggested another. 
The idea met with instant approval. Riders 
leaped to waiting horses and left at a lope in all 
directions to seek partners for the dance. 
We seized upon the opportunity created by this 
diversion to approach Ewing. The musician 
greeted us quietly, lazily cordial. He appeared not 
at all embarrassed by the circumstances of the meet- 
ing. I was surprised at his nonchalance, surprised, 
too, when he spoke, by the purity of his accent, be- 
neath the veneer of cowboy slang, and the unmistak- 
able hint of refinement in his features, marred and 
dulled though they were by the ruthless hand of dis- 
sipation. It was immediately apparent that the 
packer was a man apart from his present fellows— 
a ‘‘gentlemen ranker’’ to all appearances—at once 
better and worse, but always different from the 
rough, good-natured world in which he moved. 
Though patently intoxicated now, he gave no of- 
fensive evidence of his condition. His voice was low 
and well modulated, his manners, though a little too 
deliberate and exaggerated, were otherwise perfect. 
Frazer, after complying with the formality of or- 
dering drinks, diplomatically complimented the 
musician upon his playing. 
‘‘T should think you could make a pretty good 
living with your violin,’’ he finished. 
Ewing frowned. Then his countenance cleared 
with startling suddenness, 
