Hoover Bows to Hymen
Unknown to Bud Lane and Buck McKee, who were rioting in Florence, Jack
Payson had hurried up the wedding. Colonel Jim had wheedled Josephine
into consenting that it should take place two months ahead of the time
that had been fixed. "April is the month fer showers, Josie, an' we'll
let you weep all you please."
Two weeks' notice, however, gave scant time for preparation for the
important ceremony that Mrs. Allen deemed necessary. During this
period the busiest spot in Arizona was the kitchen of Allen hacienda.
An immense cake, big as a cheese, was the crowning effort of Josephine,
who wept copiously at the thought of losing her daughter as she
measured and mixed the ingredients. A layer of frosting an inch in
thickness encrusted this masterpiece of the art of pastry-making.
Topping the creation were manikins of a bride and bridegroom.
This climax of the bridal cake had been brought up by wagon from Tucson
with more caution than if it were a month's clean-up of a paying mine.
Mrs. Allen allowed no one to go near the artistic achievement. Others
might look at it from afar, but at the slightest movement to get close
to it, she would push the observer back, with the warning: "Keep yer
dirty fingers off'n it.
"'Tain't common icin'; that's confectionary."
Enough chickens to feed a darky camp-meeting were killed for the feast.
Fried, roasted, cold or minced as tamales, the dishes filled ovens and
tables, and overflowed into the spring-house. Favorite recipes carried
across the plains by the wives of the Argonauts met in rivalry with the
dishes of the cooks of old Mexico.
Colonel Allen wandered aimlessly about the ranch, while the
preparations for the feast were in progress. The women folk drove him
from one favorite loafing-place to another. His advice was scorned and
his wishes made a subject for jests.
Defiantly he had taken full charge of the liquid refreshments. A
friendly barkeeper in Tucson, acting under his orders, had shipped him
cases of champagne, a barrel of beer, and a siphon of seltzer. Why the
seltzer he never could explain. Later the unlucky bottle marred the
supper and nearly caused a tragedy. A guest picked it up and peered
into the metal tube to see "how the durned thing worked."
As he gazed and pondered, shaking the bottle in effort to solve the
mystery, he pressed the handle. The stream struck him fairly between
the eyes. Shocked, surprised, and half-blinded, he pulled his gun and
declared immediate war on the "sheep-herder who had put up the job on
him." Allen's other supplies were of the kind taken straight in the
Southwest, and were downed with a hasty gulp.
Driven from the house on the day of the wedding he took refuge on the
piazza. From behind the hacienda floated dreamily on the sun-drenched
air the music of guitars and mandolins played by Mexicans, practising
for the dance which would follow the ceremony.
The Colonel dozed and dreamed.
Suddenly the peace of the afternoon was shattered by the wild
"yip-yips" of a band of cowboys, riding up the trail. Revolver-shots
punctuated their shrill cries.
Allen bounded from his chair, shaking himself like a terrier. This
riotous sound was the music he longed to hear.
When the staccato beats of the ponies' hoofs ceased, he shouted: "Come
on, boys, make this your home. Everything goes, and the Sweetwater
outfit is always welcome."
The foreman was the first to pull up in front of the house. "Hullo,
Uncle Jim!" he cried.
"Hello, Sage-brush," answered the Colonel, a broad smile illuminating
his face. Holding his pipe in one hand, he licked his lips at the
thought of "lickering up" without the invention of an excuse for his
wife.
Then he joined in a hearty laugh with the men about the corral as he
heard the grunts and stamping of a plunging mustang. A cow-pony had
entered into the spirit of the occasion and was trying to toss his
rider over his head.
Fresno was the victim of the horse's deviltry.
His predicament aroused wild shouts of mirth and sallies of the wit of
the corral.
"Hunt leather, Fresno, or he'll buck you clean over the wall," shouted
Sage-brush.
"Grab his tail," yelled Show Low, with a whoop.
"All over," was the chorus, as Fresno, with a vicious jab of his spurs
and a jerk of the head, brought the animal into subjection.
"Come right in, boys!" called Allen. "Let the Greasers take the
hosses."
With shrill shouts, whoops, and much laughter the guests crowded about
the ranchman.
Each wore his holiday clothes; new handkerchiefs were knotted about
their necks. Fresno had stuck little American flags in the band of his
hat, the crown of which he had removed. "I want head-room for the
morning after," he had said.
Show Low's chaps were conspicuously new, and his movements were
heralded by the creaking of unsoftened leather.
Last of the band was Parenthesis, short, bow-legged, with a face tanned
and seamed by exposure.
The cowboys ran stiffly, toeing slightly inward. Long hours in the
saddle made them apparently awkward and really ungraceful when on the
ground.
They greeted Allen with hearty enthusiasm, slapping him on the back,
poking him in the ribs, and swinging him from one to the other, with
cries of: "Howdy, Uncle Jim!"
"Howdy, Sage-brush? Hello, Fresno! Waltz right in, Show Low. Glad to
see you all!" cried Allen, as he, in turn, brought his hand down with
ringing slaps upon shoulder and back. Meantime Parenthesis hopped
about the outer edge of the ring, seeking an entrance. Failing to
reach his host, he crowed: "How de doddle do," to attract his attention.
Allen broke from the ring. Grasping Parenthesis by the hand, he said:
"I'm tolerable, thankee, Parenthesis. Where's Jack?--didn't he come
over with you?"
"What! the boss? Ain't he got here yet?" asked the foreman. Tall and
lean, with hardened muscles, Sage-brush Charley was as lithe as a
panther on horseback. His first toy had been a rope with which, as a
toddler, he had practised on the dogs and chickens about the
ranch-yard. He could not remember when he could not ride. Days on the
round-up, hours of watching the sleeping herd in the night-watch, had
made him quiet and self-contained in his dealings with men. His eyes
looked out fearlessly on the world. All of his life he had handled
cattle. Daily facing dangers on the long drives or in the corral, he
schooled himself to face emergencies. Acquiring self-control, he was
trusted and admired. When Lyman, the old foreman of the Sweetwater
resigned, Jack Payson promoted Sage-brush, although next to Bud Lane he
was at the time the youngest man in the outfit. He made his employer's
interests his own. At the mention of Payson's name he always became
attentive. With a shade of anxiety he awaited Allen's answer.
"No," replied the ranchman, looking from one of his guests to the other.
"Why, he started three hours ahead of us!" explained Parenthesis.
With a challenging note in his tones, as if his word was disputed, the
host answered: "Well, he ain't showed up."
The little group had become silent. Arizona was in a period of unrest.
Rumors of another Apache uprising were growing stronger each day. Then
Payson was successful, and, therefore, despised by less fortunate men
ever eager for a quarrel.
After a moment's thought Sage-brush brushed aside his fears and
brightened up his comrades with the remark: "Mebbe he rid over to
Florence station to get a present for Miss Echo. He said somethin'
about gettin' an artickle from Kansas City."
"Mebbe so," agreed Allen, eager to cast out any forebodings. "It's
time," he continued, "he wuz turnin' up, if this weddin's to be pulled
off by the clock."
"Has the Sky Pilot got here yet?" asked Sage-brush.
"No," replied Allen. "He's started, though. There's one thing sartin,
we can't tighten up the cinches till the bridegroom gits here."
The absence of Jack Payson and the failure of the minister to arrive
aroused the suspicions of Sage-brush. Coming closer to Allen, he
smiled knowingly, and, speaking in a confidential tone, asked:
"Say, Jim, they ain't figgerin' on gittin' away on the sly-like, are
they?"
Show Low interrupted with the explanation: "You see, we're goin' to
decorate the wagon some."
The suggestion that any one connected with Allen Hacienda would ride in
anything on wheels, except the driver of the chuck-wagon out on
round-up, aroused the indignation of the old cattleman. For him the
only use to which a wheeled vehicle drawn by a horse should be put was
to haul materials that could not be packed on a horse.
"They ain't using any wagon!" he fairly shouted; "they're goin' away in
the leather."
The idea of carrying out the traditions of the horse in Pinal County
even to a wedding-journey tickled the boys immensely.
Slapping one another on the back and nodding their heads in
approbation, they shouted: "That's the ticket. Hooray!"
"This ain't no New York idea, where the bride and groom hits the
life-trail in a hired hack," cried Fresno.
Allen's feelings apparently were not yet fully soothed. Turning to
Sage-brush, he said: "Wheels don't go in my family. Why, her ma and me
were married on hossback. The preacher had to make a hurry job of it,
but it took."
"Hush, now," was Parenthesis' awed comment.
"For her pop was a-chasin' us, and kept it up for twenty miles after
the parson said 'Amen.'"
"Did he ketch you?" asked Fresno, with great seriousness.
"He sure did," answered Allen, with a twinkle in his eye, "an' thanked
me for takin' Josephine off his hands."
The boys laughed. The joke was upon themselves, as they had expected
to hear a romantic story of earlier days.
When the laughter had subsided, Show Low suggested: "If we can't
decorate the wagon, let's put some fixin's on the ponies."
The proposal was received with more whoops, shouting, and yipping.
They waltzed about the smiling rancher.
"That's what!" cried Sage-brush enthusiastically.
Allen grew sarcastic, remarking: "I reckon you-all must have stopped
some time at the water-tank."
Renewed laughter greeted this sally.
"This is my first wedding," explained Sage-brush, rather apologetically.
"I want to know!" exclaimed Allen, in surprise.
"I'm tellin' you. I never seed a weddin' in all my life," replied
Sage-brush, as seriously as if he was denying a false accusation of a
serious crime. "Mother used to tell me about her'n, an' I often wisht
I had been there."
Fresno shouted with amusement. He had Sage-brush rattled. The coolest
man on the ranch was flustered by the mere thought of attending a
wedding-ceremony.
"He's plum locoed over this one. Ain't you, Sage-brush?" he drawled
tauntingly.
Sage-brush took his jibing in the best of humor. It was a holiday, and
they were with people of their own kind. Had a stranger been present
the remarks would have been resented bitterly. On this point cowboys
are particularly sensitive. In the presence of outsiders they are
silent, answering only in monosyllables, never leading in any
conversation, and if any comment is necessary they make it indirectly.
"Well, I ain't no society-bud like you are," laughed Sage-brush. The
others joined with him in his merriment over Fresno's discomfiture.
"Weddin's ain't so frequent where I come from as they is in Californy."
"It's the climate," answered Fresno, with a broad grin.
"So you ain't never been at a weddin'?" asked Allen, who was looking
for another opening to have more fun with Sage-brush.
Again the cowboy became serious and confessed: "Nope; I've officiated
at several plain killin's, an' been chief usher at a lynchin', but this
yere's my first weddin', an' I'm goin' to turn loose some and enjoy it."
Sage-brush grinned in anticipation of the good times that he knew lay
in store for him at the dance.
"You're fixed up as if you was the main attraction at this event," said
Allen, looking Sage-brush over carefully and spinning him around on his
heel.
"Ain't I mussed up fine?" answered Sage-brush.
"You're the sure big turkey," interrupted Parenthesis.
"Served up fine, with all the trimmin's," laughed Fresno, taking
another jab at his friend.
Their sport was broken up for the time being by the appearance of Polly
at the door of the ranch-house. "Hello, boys," she shouted, with the
fascinating cordiality of the Western girl, wherein the breath of the
plains, the purity of the air, and the wholesomeness of life is
embraced in a simple greeting and the clasp of a hand.
The cowboys took off their hats, and made elaborate bows to the young
woman. "Howdy, Miss Polly!" they cried.
"You sure do look pert," added Sage-brush, with what he considered his
most winning smile. Fresno snickered and hastily brushed back the hair
from his forehead.
"Where's Jack?" she asked the two men, who at once ranged themselves
one on each side of her.
"He did not start with the boys," explained Allen. "He'll be along
soon, Polly."
"Well, now when it comes to lookers, what's the matter with Polly
Hope?" exclaimed Sage-brush slyly.
Glances of admiration were cast at the girl, who was dressed simply and
plainly in a little white gown which Mrs. Allen had made for her for
the wedding. Polly's youth, good nature, and ability to take care of
herself made her a favorite on the ranch.
She had no need of defenders, but if an occasion should arise that
Polly required a knight, there were a score of guns at her service at
an hour's notice.
"Looks like a picture from a book," said Fresno, hoping to win back the
ground he had lost by Sage-brush's openly expressed admiration.
Polly was flattered by the comments and the glances of the boys, which
expressed their approval of her appearance more loudly than spoken
words. She pretended, however, to be annoyed. "Go 'long," she said.
"Where's Bud Lane? Didn't you give him his invite?"
The boys turned from one to the other with feigned glances of disgust
at being slighted by Polly for an absent one. The one-sided courtship
of Bud and Polly was known up and down the valley, and indefinite
postponement of their wedding-day was one of the jests of the two
ranches.
"Oh, we sent it on to him at Florence. He'll git it in time, if he
ain't gone to the Lazy K with Buck McKee," said Sage-brush; then,
turning to the other cowboys, he added in an aggrieved tone: "Polly
ain't got no eyes for no one excep' Bud."
Polly stepped to Allen's side, and, laying her head on his shoulder,
said: "Ain't I?" Allen patted the girl's head. He was very fond of
her, looking upon her as another daughter.
Polly smiled back into his face, and then, with a glance at the
cowboys, said: "Say, Uncle Jim, there's some bottles to be opened."
The invitation was an indirect one, but all knew what it meant, and
started for the house.
"Root-beer," added Polly mischievously; "the corks pull awful hard."
Allen glanced at her in feigned alarm.
"What do you want to do--stampede the bunch?"
Before she could answer, the approach of a horse attracted the
attention of the group.
"There's Jack, now!" cried Sage-brush, in tones which plainly showed
his relief; "no, it ain't," he added reflectively, "he rode his pacin'
mare, and that's a trottin' horse."
The cry of the rider was heard quieting his mount. Allen recognized
the voice. "It's Slim Hoover," he cried.
Polly clapped her hands, and said mischievously to Sage-brush: "Now
you'll see me makin' goo-goo eyes to somebody besides Bud Lane. I
ain't a-going to be the only girl in Pinal County Slim Hoover ain't set
up to."
"An' shied off from," added Sage-brush, a little nettled by Polly's
overlooking him as a subject for flirtation. "But what's Slim doin'
over this way?"
"Come to Jack's weddin', of course," replied Polly, adding
complacently: "And probably projectin' a hitch-up of his own."
Slim ran around the corner of the house directly into the crowd, who
seized him before he could recover from his surprise, and proceeded to
haze him, to their intense delight and the Sheriff's embarrassment, for
he knew that Polly was somewhere near, enjoying his discomfiture.
Polly waited until her victim was fully ready for her particular form
of torture. The reception of the cowboys was crude to her refined form
of making the fat Sheriff uncomfortable.
With the velvety cruelty of a flirt she held out her hand, saying:
"Hello, Slim."
The Sheriff flushed under his tan. The red crept up the back of his
neck to his ears. He awkwardly took off his hat. With a bow and a
scrape he greeted her: "Howdy, Miss Polly, howdy." Meantime he shook
her hand until she winced from the heartiness of the grip.
"What's the news?" she asked, as she slowly straightened out her
fingers one by one.
"There's been a killin' over Florence way," announced the Sheriff,
putting on his hat and becoming an officer of the law with duty to
perform.
"Who is the misfortunate?" asked Sage-brush, as they gathered about
Hoover and listened intently.
Murder in Arizona was a serious matter, and punishment was meted out to
the slayer or he was freed by his fellow citizens. Far from courts of
justice and surrounded by men to whom death was often merely an
incident in a career of crime, the settlers were forced to depend upon
themselves to keep peace on the border. They acted quickly, but never
hastily. Judgment followed quickly on conviction. Their views were
broad, and rarely were their decisions wrong.
"'Ole Man' Terrill," replied the Sheriff. "Happened about ten this
mornin'. Some man caught him alone in the railroad-station and blowed
his head half-off."
"Do tell!" was Allen's exclamation.
"Yep," continued the Sheriff. "He must have pulled a gun on the
fellow. He put up some sort of a fight, as the room is some mussed up."
"Robbery?" queried Polly, with wide-open eyes.
"That's what!" answered Slim, turning to her. "He had three thousan'
dollars pinned in his vest--county money for salaries. You know how he
toted his wad around with him, defyin' man or the devil to get it 'way
from him? Well, some one who was both man an' devil was too much for
him."
"Who found him?"
"I did myself. Went over around noon after the money. Didn't stop to
go back to town fer a posse. Trail was already too cold. Could tell it
was a man that rode a pacin' horse."
His auditors looked at each other, striving to remember who of their
acquaintance rode a pacing horse. Sage-brush Charley shook his head.
"Nobody down this way, 'ceptin', of course, the boss, rides a pacer.
Must be one of the Lazy K outfit, I reckon."
"Most likely," said the Sheriff; "he struck out south, probably to
throw me off scent. Then he fell in with two other men, and this
balled me up. I lost one of the tracks, but follered the other two
round Sweetwater Mesa, till I came where they rode into the river. Of
course I couldn't follow the trail any farther at that p'int, so, bein'
as I was near Uncle Jim's, I rode over fer help to look along both
banks an' pick up the trail wherever it comes out of the river. Sorry
I must break up yer fun, boys, but some o' yuh must come along with me.
Duty's duty. I want Sage-brush, anyhow, as I s'pose I can't ask fer
Jack Payson."
Sage-brush pulled a long face. At any other time he would have jumped
at the chance of running to earth the dastardly murderers of his old
friend Terrill. But in the matter of this, his first experience a
wedding, he had tickled his palate so long with the sweets of
anticipation that he could not bear to forgo the culminating swallow of
realization.
"I don't see why I shouldn't be let off as well as Jack," he grumbled;
"our cases are similar. You see it's my first weddin'," explained the
foreman to the sheriff.
The other cowboys howled with delight. The humor of the situation
caught their fancy, and they yelled a chorus of protestation in
Hoover's ears. In this Colonel Allen joined.
"Don't spile the weddin'," he pleaded. "This event has already rounded
up the Sweetwater outfit fer yuh, an' saved yuh more time than you'll
lose by waitin' till it's over. Then we'll all jine yuh."
Hoover commanded silence, and, rolling a cigarette, gravely considered
the proposition. He realized that the murderers should be followed up
at once, but that if he forced the cowboys by the legal power exercised
to forego the pleasure they had been anticipating so greatly, they
would not be so keen in pursuit as if they had first "given the boss
his send-off." The considerations being equal, or, as he put it, "hoss
an' hoss," it seemed to him wise to submit to Allen's proposition,
backed as it was by the justice of his plan that the occasion of the
wedding had already saved valuable time in assembling the posse. He
assented, therefore, but, to maintain the dignity of his office and
control of the situation, with apparent reluctance.
"Well, hurry up the sacreements an' ceremonies, then, an' the minute
the preacher ties the knot, every man uv yuh but Jack an' the parson
an' Uncle Jim gits on his boss an' folluhs me. I'll wait out in the
corral."
At this there was another storm of expostulation, led this time by
Allen. Of course Hoover was to come to the wedding, and be its guest
of honor. "You shall be the first to wish Jack and Echo lucky," said
Allen. "That means you'll be the next one to marry."
The ruddy-faced Sheriff blushed to the roots of his auburn hair.
"Much obliged, but I ain't fixed up fer a weddin'," and he looked down
at his travel-stained breeches tucked in riding-boots white with
alkali-dust, and felt of his buttonless waistcoat and gingham shirt
open at the throat, with the bandanna handkerchief his neck in lieu of
both collar and tie.
Polly assured him that he would do very well as he was, that for her
part she "wouldn't want no better-dressed man than he to be present at
her wedding, not even the feller she was goin' to be hitched up to;"
whereat Slim Hoover was greatly set at ease.
Polly was bounding up the piazza steps to tell Echo of the accession to
her party, when Hoover held up his hand. A terrifying suggestion had
flashed through his mind.
"Hold on a minute!" he exclaimed, and, turning to Allen, he asked
anxiously: "Does this yere guest of honor haf to kiss the bride?"
The question was so foreign to the serious topic which had just been
under discussion that everyone laughed in relief of the nervous tension.
Allen's fun-loving nature at once bubbled to the surface. With an air
of assumed anger he said to the Sheriff: "Of course; every guest has
to do it." Then, turning to the cowboys, he asked: "Is there any one
as holds out strong objection to kissin' my daughter?"
"Not me," laughed Sage-brush, "I'm here to go the limit."
"I'm an experienced kisser, I am," said Parenthesis, "I don't lose no
chance at practise."
"I'll take two, please," simpered Fresno.
Show Low interrupted the general sally which followed this remark,
saying: "I strings my chips along with Fresno."
"Slim's afraid of females!" drawled Polly provokingly.
"Oh, thunder!" exclaimed Slim to Polly. "No, I ain't, nothin' of the
sort. I'm a peaceful man, I am. I never likes to start no trouble."
"Get out, what's one kiss?" laughed Allen.
"I've seen a big jack-pot of trouble opened by chippin' in just one
kiss," wisely remarked the Sheriff.
Sage-brush, at this point, announced decisively: "The bride has got to
be kissed."
Slim tried to break through the group and enter the house, thinking
that by making such a move he would divert their attention, and that in
the excitement of the wedding he could avoid kissing the bride, an
ordeal which to him was more terrible than facing the worst gun-fighter
in Arizona.
"I deputize you to do the kissin' for me," he said to Parenthesis, who
had laid his hand shoulder to detain him.
"No, siree," the cowboy replied. "Every man does his own kissin' in
this game." Slim half-turned as if undecided. Suddenly he turned on
his heel, started for the corral. "I'll wait outside," he shouted.
"No, you don't!" cried his companions. He turned to face a semicircle
of drawn revolvers. He looked from one man to another, as if puzzled
what move to make next. Allen was annoyed by the sheriff's actions,
taking it as an insult that he would not kiss his daughter, although he
had started to twit the Sheriff in the beginning.
"You ain't goin' to insult me and mine that way. No man sidesteps
kissin' one of my kids," he said angrily.
Slim was plaintively apologetic: "I ain't kissed a female since I was a
yearlin'."
"Time you started," snapped Polly.
"You kiss the bride, or I take it pussenel," said Allen, thoroughly
aroused.
"Well, if you put it that way, I'll do it," gasped Slim, in desperation.
The agreement restored the boys to their good nature.
"You will have to put blinders on me, though, and back me up,"
cautioned Hoover.
"We'll hog-tie you and sit on your head," laughed Sage-brush, as the
guests entered the house.