“No-o-o-o-o-bod-e-e-e-e knows how dry I——”
I yanked the door open, and Chuck and Ricky, with their arms around each
other’s necks, falls inside. They blinks at the light for a moment, and
then—
“A-a-a-a-a-a-a-am.”
I blew out the light and left them on the floor. After a while I hears
Chuck singing soft and low:
“Swee-e-e-e-e-t A-a-a-a-a-a-de-e-e-line, Swee-e-e-e-e-e-t A-a-a-a——
“Ricky! Ain’tcha goin’ t’ help me? No? All ri’, feller.”
I got that whole gang up at five o’clock ’cause I knowed the train was
due early. Chuck and Ricky are sore-headed, but they had enough left to
make the world look brighter.
“I’m going away,” declares Telescope. “Nobody can ever tell me that
Ricky Henderson can make up like a female and fool anybody. I washes my
hands of the whole thing. _Sabe?_ If anybody asks me what I know about
it I’ll swear I don’t know a thing.”
“Sure you’ll stay away,” grins Chuck. “Think we want a big boob like you
around to ball up things? You don’t appreciate what we’re doing for you,
feller. All we ask is that you stay out of sight. _Sabe?_”
Telescope saddles up and drifts toward town ahead of us. We talks it all
over and decides that Muley and Ricky are to stay at the ranch, while me
and Chuck go down to meet the relation.
Ricky don’t dare to go down there in his make-up, so Chuck says he’ll
tell ’em his wife is too frail to stand the bumping of a wagon. Ricky
does look frail.
We went to the depot and found out that for once in its existence the
train was on time. Mostly always you can go to town tomorrow and be in
plenty of time to catch today’s train.
“Say,” says Paddy Wilkins the depot agent to me, “is Telescopic Tolliver
foreman for Whittaker?”
“Say he was?” I asks.
“Yeah. Telegram comes for Whittaker, and I asks Telescope to take it out
to him, but he says the old man is away, and, being in charge, he asks
me to read it to him. When does the old man come back, Henry?”
“Cannon Ball comin’!” yells Chuck, and I don’t get a chance to answer
Paddy’s question.
Chuck has borrowed Jay Bird’s swaller-tailed coat and beaded vest, and
we stands there like a reception committee with our hats in our hands.
It’s too early for any Paradisers to be on hand.
“Where did you get a dress for Ricky?” I asks.
“We robbed the clothes-line at the Seven A,” chuckles Mr. Warner’s
little son. “Annie Schmidt’s clothes, Henry.”
I nodded weakly and watches the train roll in. Ricky won’t weigh over a
hundred and twenty, and Annie Schmidt is at least two-fifty.
The first one to get off is a old pelican wearing thick glasses and a
hard hat. Behind him comes a female of the vintage of sixty-three, and
behind her comes one swell-looking female—young. Words fails me when I
try to sing her charms.
The old man might ’a’ owned one of the biggest distilleries, but I
knowed at a glance why he didn’t have it any more—he drank it all up. He
sure has a nose that shows.
The old lady is one of them haughty old females who are too proud to
look at their feet, and her neck is so long that she could wear a fur
muffler and a sweater and still be low-necked.
We stumbles up to them as the train pulls out. The old man peers at us
and says——
“I am looking for James——”
“Yessir,” grins Chuck. “I’m him.”
“You!” says he. “Well! I wouldn’t ’a’ knowed you at all.”
“James,” says the old lady, “I’m pleased to meetcha. You may kiss me on
the cheek.”
Chuck was game.
“This is your cousin Molly,” says the old lady. “You’ve likely never
even heard of her, James, but she’s a lovely girl, and we know you’ll
like her.”
“Y’betcha,” grins Chuck.
Molly was more human than auntie, and Chuck kisses her.
“Well, James, I’d have never knowed you,” says uncle. “Of course it has
been a long time since we were together. You’ve done well, eh? Surprized
to see us, eh?
“Never expected to see you, James. Molly, here, is Polly’s girl. You
remember Albert Benefield, don’t you?”
“Al Benefield? Sure I do. Is that son-of-a gun alive yet?”
“He is my father,” says Molly.
“Oh!” gasps Chuck, and almost falls over a valise. “Here, Henry, you
rustle these valises out to the wagon.”