He resumed his whittling, refusing to answer any questions, vociferating that he was busy.
Outside there was a sound of hoofs and voices.

More guests had arrived.
The druggist, seized with confusion, terrified lest he had put on his gloves too soon, thrust his hands into his pockets.

It was Cutter, Magnus Derrick's division superintendent, who came, bringing his wife and her two girl cousins.

They had come fifteen miles by the trail from the far distant division house on "Four" of Los Muertos and had ridden on horseback instead of driving.

Mrs.Cutter could be heard declaring that she was nearly dead and felt more like going to bed than dancing.
The two girl cousins, in dresses of dotted Swiss over blue sateen, were doing their utmost to pacify her.