There were only two couples staying at the ranch – it was a bit early for the summer crowd – and she knew that Hank could take care of their needs. She spent the morning in straightening up her accounts and walked down to the mailbox in time to meet the mailman. Sorting through the collection he gave her, she picked out the most likely envelopes to open first. The reservations for summer visits were coming in even faster than last year, which had been her best season ever, and she made the proper entries in her reservations book and typed out the answering cards. As she was finishing this task, the telephone on her cluttered desk rang and she picked up the receiver.

"Mrs. Tremaine? I was wondering if perhaps you might have a vacant cabin this week?" the caller asked. "I've just discovered that I'm going to have a couple of weeks free and, since I've been wanting to visit your ranch I thought I might be able to take this opportunity."

"Yes, I have a number of vacancies," Eileen answered. "Rather a slow time of the year, just now."

"Good. I'm Doreen Mason, Mrs. Al Mason," the caller said. "From Los Angeles. Fred and Arlene Winston recommended your ranch; I believe they stayed there last October."

"Er, I believe they did," Eileen agreed. "Very well, Mrs. Mason, I'll need your home address, home telephone number and your expected date of arrival."

When she received the information she jotted it down, thanked Mrs. Mason and hung up. She also wrote herself a note to meet Mrs. Mason at the airport in Salt Lake City the next day at noon, which was the earliest she could arrive. As always, when she took a reservation over the telephone, Eileen wondered about the caller. Doreen Mason had sounded young, perhaps thirty. Her voice had a sophisticated, educated quality and she had specifically requested one of the first-class cabins, making no sign of a protest when Eileen had mentioned the stiff rate she charged for the luxuriously furnished units.