members; and once again Bashful Ike found himself close to the object of his adoration.
"Hullo, Ike! you back again?" demanded Sally, cheerfully, as they clasped hands in a "walk-around." I believe you are getting to be a regular lady's man."
"Aw—now—Sally!"
"So that Ruth Fielding says," laughed Sally. "You're sure popular with those youngsters."
Ike grinned feebly. But he was feeling better. He had actually forgotten his feet—even in Sally's presence. Jennie Stone, although an all too solid bit of humanity, was remarkably light upon her feet when it came to dancing. Indeed, she was so good a dancer that she steered Ike over the floor to such good purpose that he—as well as other people—began to believe that Bashful Ike was no more awkward than the next man off the range.
"Why, Ruthie!" whispered Madge Steele, who was the next "victim" in line. "Ike is a regular Beau Brummel beside some of these fellows. Look at Heavy steering him around! And look at the teacher watching them. Humph! young lady I believe you're got a 'great head on you,' to quote Master Bobbie."
"Now, you be real nice to him, Madge," Ruth urged.
"Of course I shall, child," replied Miss Steele,
