The Judge, I reckon, felt kinda 'shamed of hisself. 'Cause I'd helped
to sell a heap of medicine, and he knowed it. "That's all right,
Lloyd," he says; "they ain't no present fer you. You can vamose--back
stairway."
"Whee-oop!" goes the boys.
I seen her start down then. Billy and his wife got up, too. So did the
crowd, still a-laughin' and a-hootin'.
I kinda backed a bit. When I reached the stairs, I went slower, feelin'
my way. Minute and I come out onto Silverstein's hind porch. Nobody was
there, so I went over to the edge and lent agin a' upright.
Right back of Silverstein's they's a line of hitchin'-posts. Two
hosses was fastened there when I come, but it was so dark, and I felt
so kinda bad, that I didn't notice the broncs par_tic_-ular. Till,
'round the corner, towards 'em, come that Simpson. Next, walkin'
slow and lookin' down--Macie.
But she got onto her hoss quick, and without no help. All the time,
Bugsey was a-fussin' with his mustang. But the critter was nervous, and
wasn't no easy job. Macie waited. She was nighest to me, and right
in line with the light from a winda. I could see her face plain. But I
couldn't tell how she was feelin',--put out, 'r quiet, 'r just kinda
tired.
Simpson got into the saddle then, his hoss rearin' and runnin'. He
could steer a gasoline wagon, but he couldn't handle a cayuse. He turned
to holler: "Comin', Miss Sewell?"
She said she was, but she started awful slow, and kinda peered back, and
up to the hall. At the same time, she must 'a' saw that they was a man
on the back porch, 'cause she pulled in a little, lookin' hard.
I felt that rope a-drawin' me then. I couldn't 'a' kept myself from
goin' to her. I started down. "Miss Macie!" I says; "Miss Macie!"
"Why,--why, Mister Lloyd!" She wheeled her hoss. "Is that you?"