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hair from its severe schoolmarm style and wear a dress which showed off her figure. As a stout supporter of the newly started feminist cause, Molly tried to object to fancying herself up, but Calamity could be mighty persuasive when she wanted. Seeing the reaction her change of costume caused, and being pleased despite herself at it, Molly decided that Calamity might have a real good point in suggesting she changed.
    With some amusement Calamity watched her male friends over the meal, as they strove to remember half-forgotten or hardly learned social manners. One man spilled his stew over his pants and turned red in the face as he fought down the words which rose naturally at such a mishap. Not even the pleasure of eating Bigelow’s trout could break the ice.
    ‘Colonel’s having the Regimental Band come out this evening,’ Beau Resin remarked, having joined the party for a meal. ‘They’ve got a dance caller who’ll set your feet to tapping, Miss Johnson.’
    At that moment one of the freighters bumped into the man next to him and jolted a cup of coffee from his hand. Naturally the bumped one swung around and said, ‘You clumsy—’
    Then he flushed as he realised he stood close to a for-real lady who should never have her ears sullied by the last word he spoke in his haste. With this thought in mind, he turned to the girl and made amends.
    ‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ he said, ‘this bastard pushed me.’
    For a couple of seconds silence fell over the group. Then Molly began to laugh. She could not help herself, the sight of the men’s shocked faces, and the way the words came out. struck her as amusing. The nervous air of the men sagged off a mite as they realised the girl was not only human like themselves, but also had a real keen sense of humour.
    Showing timing that a professional comedian might have envied, Calamity continued with the ice-breaking progress. With her usual gusto, she started to tell Molly how she humiliated the pious, sanctimonious boss of a freight outfit.
    ‘Wouldn’t let his boys stay on in town overnight to celebrate,’ Calamity explained. ‘So I runs up to him and throws my arms round his neck, like this,’ she demonstrated on Beau Resin. ‘Gives him a kiss, like this,’ once more she gave a spirited demonstration. ‘And then I says, ‘Why, darling, don’t you remember how you n’ me set up drinks that night on the North Platte?” I tell you, Molly, gal, that feller looked sicker’n a skunk-stunk beagle. He tried to pull away from me and kept gasping about never seeing me, or there being some mistake. “Now that’s not what you said that night, honey,” I tells him. Then he jerked free from me and lit a shuck out of town like the devil after a yearling. Never did show up again that night and the boys had them a time.’
    By the time the meal ended Molly found herself on friendly terms with the freighters and looked forward to a night’s fun at the dance.
    Just as Calamity predicted, the soldiers from the fort made their appearance as the day’s work ended. By the time Calamity and Molly returned to the wagon circle, they found that practically everybody who could had left Fort Connel and come a-visiting. First to arrive had been the unmarried enlisted men, followed some time later by the single officers who had not wished to show ungentlemanly haste, but were just as eager to see some female company. Lastly came the families and the senior officers, mingling with the travellers and exchanging gossip.
    One thing Molly noticed as she walked with Calamity through the wagon train circle was how like gathered to like. Without any hint of snobbery the senior officers and their families gathered with the better class citizens of the train; the Blooms and Molly’s aunt and uncle among others. So it went on through the camp, the different social levels finding equals among the travellers. A group of young officers swarmed around Molly and Calamity, gay blades fresh out of West