The Lonesome Trail and Other Stories

by B. M. Bower

  FIRST AID TO CUPID

  The floor manager had just called out that it was "ladies' choice," andHappy Jack, his eyes glued in rapturous apprehension upon the thin,expressionless face of Annie Pilgreen, backed diffidently into acorner. He hoped and he feared that she would discover him and leadhim out to dance; she had done that once, at the Labor Day ball, and hehad not slept soundly for several nights after.

  Someone laid proprietary hand upon his cinnamon-brown coat sleeve, andhe jumped and blushed; it was only the schoolma'am, however, smiling upat him ingratiatingly in a manner wholly bewildering to a simple mindedfellow like Happy Jack. She led him into another corner, plumpedgracefully and with much decision down upon a bench, drew her skirtsaside to make room for him and announced that she was tired and wanteda nice long talk with him. Happy Jack, sending a troubled glance afterAnnie, who was leading Joe Meeker out to dance, sighed a bit and satdown obediently--and thereby walked straight into the loop which theschoolma'am had spread for his unwary feet.

  The schoolma'am was sitting out an astonishing number of dances--for agirl who could dance from dark to dawn and never turn a hair--and thewomen were wondering why. If she had sat them out with Weary Davidsonthey would have smiled knowingly and thought no more of it; but she didnot. For every dance she had a different companion, and in every caseit ended in that particular young man looking rather scared andunhappy. After five minutes of low-toned monologue on the part of theschoolma'am, Happy Jack went the way of his predecessors and alsobecame scared and unhappy.

  "Aw, say! Miss Satterly, _I_ can't act," he protested in a panic.

  "Oh, yes, you could," declared the schoolma'am, with sweet assurance,"if you only thought so."

  "Aw, I couldn't get up before a crowd and say a piece, not if--"

  "I'm not sure I want you to. There are other things to anentertainment besides reciting things. I only want you to promise thatyou will help me out. You will, won't you?" The schoolma'am's eyes,besides being pretty, were often disconcertingly direct in their gaze.

  Happy Jack wriggled and looked toward the door, which suddenly seemed avery long way off. "I--I've got to go up to the Falls, along aboutChristmas," he stuttered feebly, avoiding her eyes. "I--I can't getoff any other time, and I've--I've got a tooth--"

  "You're the fifth Flying-U man who has 'a tooth,'" the schoolma'aminterrupted impatiently. "A dentist ought to locate in Dry Lake; fromwhat I have heard confidentially to-night, there's a fortune to be madeoff the teeth of the Happy Family alone."

  Every drop of blood in Happy's body seemed to stand then in his face."I--I'll pull the curtain for yuh," he volunteered, meekly.

  "You're the seventh applicant for that place." The schoolma'am wascrushingly calm. "Every fellow I've spoken to has evinced a morbidcraving for curtain-pulling."

  Happy Jack crumpled under her sarcasm and perspired, and tried to thinkof something, with his brain quite paralyzed and useless.

  The schoolma'am continued inexorably; plainly, _her_ brain was notparalyzed. "I've promised the neighborhood that I would give aChristmas tree and entertainment--and when a school-teacher promisesanything to a neighborhood, nothing short of death or smallpox will beaccepted as an excuse for failing to keep the promise; and I've seventongue-tied kids to work with!" (The schoolma'am was onlyspasmodically given to irreproachable English.) "Of course, I reliedupon my friends to help me out. But when I come to calling the roll,I--I don't seem to _have_ any friends." The schoolma'am was twirlingthe Montana sapphire ring which Weary had given her last spring, andher voice was trembly and made Happy Jack feel vaguely that he was alow-down cur and ought to be killed.

  He swallowed twice. "Aw, yuh don't want to go and feel bad about it; Inever meant--I'll do anything yuh ask me to."

  "Thank you. I knew I could count upon you, Jack."

  The schoolma'am recovered her spirits with a promptness that wassuspicious; patted his arm and called him an awfully good fellow, whichreduced Happy Jack to a state just this side imbecility. Also, shedrew a little memorandum book from somewhere, and wrote Happy Jack'sname in clear, convincing characters that made him shiver. He sawother names above his own on the page; quite a lot of them; seven infact. Miss Satterly, evidently, was not quite as destitute of friendsas her voice, awhile back, would lead one to believe. Happy Jackwondered.

  "I haven't quite decided what we will have," she remarked briskly."When I do, we'll all meet some evening in the school-house and talk itover. There's lots of fun getting up an entertainment; you'll like it,once you get started."

  Happy did not agree with her, but he did not tell her so; he managed tocontort his face into something resembling a grin, and retreated to thehotel, where he swallowed two glasses of whiskey to start his bloodmoving again, and then sat down and played poker disasterously untildaylight made the lamps grow a sickly yellow and the air of the roomseem suddenly stale and dead. But Happy never thought of blaming theschoolma'am for the eighteen dollars he lost.

  Neither did he blame her for the nightmares which tormented his sleepduring the week that followed or the vague uneasiness that filled hiswaking hour, even when he was not thinking directly of the ghost thatdogged him. For wherever he went, or whatever he did, Happy Jack wasconscious of the fact that his name was down on the schoolma'am's listand he was definitely committed to do anything she asked him to do,even to "speaking a piece"--which was in his eyes the acme of mentaltorture.

  When Cal Emmett, probably thinking of Miss Satterly's little book,pensively warbled in his ear:

  Is your name written there, On the page white and fair?

  Happy Jack made no reply, though he suddenly felt chilly along thespinal column. It was.

  "Schoolma'am wants us all to go over to the schoolhousetonight--seven-thirty, sharp--to help make medicine over this SantaClaus round-up. Slim, she says you've got to be Santy and come downthe stovepipe and give the kids fits and popcorn strung on a string.She says you've got the figure." Weary splashed into the wash basinlike a startled muskrat.

  The Happy Family looked at one another distressfully.

  "By golly," Slim gulped, "you can just tell the schoolma'am to goplumb--" (Weary faced him suddenly, his brown hair running rivulets)"and ask the Old Man," finished Slim hurriedly. "He's fifteen poundsfatter'n I be."

  "Go tell her yourself," said Weary, appeased. "I promised her you'dall be there on time, if I had to hog-tie the whole bunch and haul yuhover in the hayrack." He dried his face and hands leisurely andregarded the solemn group. "Oh, mamma! you're sure a nervy-lookingbunch uh dogies. Yuh look like--"

  "Maybe you'll hog-tie the whole bunch," Jack Bates observed irritably,"but if yuh do, you'll sure be late to meeting, sonny!"

  The Happy Family laughed feeble acquiescence.

  "I won't need to," Weary told them blandly. "You all gave theschoolma'am leave to put down your names, and its up to you to makegood. If yuh haven't got nerve enough to stay in the game till thedeck's shuffled yuh hadn't any right to buy a stack uh chips."

  "Yeah--that's right," Cal Emmett admitted frankly, because shyness andCal were strangers. "The Happy Family sure ought to put this thingthrough a-whirling. We'll give 'em vaudeville till their eyes waterand their hands are plumb blistered applauding the show. Happy, you'reit. You've got to do a toe dance."

  Happy Jack grinned in sickly fashion and sought out his red necktie.

  "Say, Weary," spoke up Jack Bates, "ain't there going to be any femalegirls in this opera troupe?"

  "Sure. The Little Doctor's going to help run the thing, and RenaJackson and Lea Adams are in it--and Annie Pilgreen. Her and Happy aredown on the program for 'Under the Mistletoe', a tableau--the red fire,kiss-me-quick brand."

  "Aw gwan!" cried Happy Jack, much distressed and not observing Weary'slowered eyelid.

  His perturbed face and manner gave the Happy Family an idea. An idea,when entertained by the Happy Family, was a synonym for great mentalagony on the part of the object of
the thought, and great enjoyment onthe part of the Family.

  "That's right," Weary assured him sweetly, urged to further deceit bythe manifest approval of his friends. "Annie's ready and willing to doher part, but she's afraid you haven't got the nerve to go through withit; but the schoolma'am says you'll have to anyhow, because your name'sdown and you told her distinct you'd do anything she asked yuh to.Annie likes yuh a heap, Happy; she said so. Only she don't like theway yuh hang back on the halter. She told me, private, that she wishedyuh wasn't so bashful."

  "Aw, gwan!" adjured Happy Jack again, because that was his only form ofrepartee.

  "If I had a girl like Annie--"

  "Aw, I never said I had a girl!"

  "It wouldn't take me more than two minutes to convince her I wasn't asscared as I looked. You can gamble I'd go through with that livingpicture, and I'd sure kiss--"

  "Aw, gwan! I ain't stampeding clear to salt water 'cause she said'Boo!' at me--and I don't need no cayuse t' show me the trail to agirl's house--"

  At this point, Weary succeeded in getting a strangle-hold and thediscussion ended rather abruptly--as they had a way of doing in theFlying U bunk-house.

  Over at the school-house that night, when Miss Satterly's little, goldwatch told her it was seven-thirty, she came out of the corner whereshe had been whispering with the Little Doctor and faced a select,anxious-eyed audience. Even Weary was not as much at ease as he wouldhave one believe, and for the others--they were limp and miserable.

  She went straight at her subject. They all knew what they were therefor, she told them, and her audience looked her unwinkingly in the eye.They did _not_ know what they were there for, but they felt that theywere prepared for the worst. Cal Emmett went mentally over the only"piece" he knew, which he thought he might be called upon to speak. Itwas the one beginning, according to Cal's version:

  Twinkle, Twinkle little star, What in thunder are you at?

  There were thirteen verses, and it was not particularly adapted to aChristmas entertainment.

  The schoolma'am went on explaining. There would be tableaux, she said(whereat Happy Jack came near swallowing his tongue) and the JarleyWax-works.

  "What're them?" Slim, leaning awkwardly forward and blinking up at her,interrupted stolidly. Everyone took advantage of the break andbreathed deeply.

  The schoolma'am told them what were the Jarley Wax-works, and evenreverted to Dickens and gave a vivid sketch of the original _Mrs.Jarley_. The audience finally understood that they would represent waxfigures of noted characters, would stand still and let _Mrs. Jarley_talk about them--without the satisfaction of talking back--and thatthey would be wound up at the psychological moment, when they would beexpected to go through a certain set of motions alleged to portray thelast conscious acts of the characters they represented.

  The schoolma'am sat down sidewise upon a desk, swung a neat little footunconventionally and grew confidential, and the Happy Family knew theywere in for it.

  "Will Davidson" (which was Weary) "is the tallest fellow in the lot, sohe must be the Japanese Dwarf and eat poisoned rice out of a choppingbowl, with a wooden spoon--the biggest we can find," she announcedauthoritatively, and they grinned at Weary.

  "Mr. Bennett," (which was Chip) "you can assume a most murderousexpression, so we'll allow you to be Captain Kidd and threaten to slayyour Little Doctor with a wooden sword--if we can't get hold of a realone."

  "Thanks," said Chip, with doubtful gratitude.

  "Mr. Emmett, we'll ask you to be _Mrs. Jarley_ and deliver thelectures."

  When they heard that the Happy Family howled derision at Cal, who gotred in the face in spite of himself. The worst was over. The victimsscented fun in the thing and perked up, and the schoolma'am breathedrelief, for she knew the crowd. Things would go with a swing, afterthis, and success was, barring accidents, a foregone conclusion.

  Through all the clatter and cross-fire of jibes Happy Jack sat, nervousand distrait, in the seat nearest the door and farthest from AnniePilgreen. The pot-bellied stove yawned red-mouthed at him, a scantthree feet away. Someone coming in chilled with the nipping night airhad shoveled in coal with lavish hand, so that the stove door had to bethrown open as the readiest method of keeping the stove from meltingwhere it stood. Its body, swelling out corpulently below the ironbelt, glowed red; and Happy Jack's wolf-skin overcoat was beginning toexhale a rank, animal odor. It never occurred to him that he mightchange his seat; he unbuttoned the coat absently and perspired.

  He was waiting to see if the schoolma'am said anything about "Under theMistletoe" with red fire--and Annie Pilgreen. If she did, Happy Jackmeant to get out of the house with the least possible delay, for heknew well that no man might face the schoolma'am's direct gaze andrefuse to do her bidding,

  So far the Jarley Wax-works held the undivided attention of all saveHappy Jack; to him there were other things more important. Even whenhe was informed that he must be the Chinese Giant and stand upon acoal-oil box for added height, arrayed in one of the big-floweredcalico curtains which Annie Pilgreen said she could bring, he wasapathetic. He would be required to swing his head slowly from side toside when wound up--very well, it looked easy enough. He would nothave to say a word, and he supposed he might shut his eyes if he feltlike it.

  "As for the tableaux"--Happy Jack felt a prickling of the scalp andmeasured mentally the distance to the door--"We can arrange them later,for they will not require any rehearsing. The Wax-works we must get towork on as soon as possible. How often can you come and rehearse?"

  "Every night and all day Sundays," Weary drawled.

  Miss Satterly frowned him into good behavior and said twice a weekwould do.

  Happy Jack slipped out and went home feeling like a reprieved criminal;he even tried to argue himself into the belief that Weary was onlyloading him and didn't mean a word he said. Still, the schoolma'am hadsaid there would be tableaux, and it was a cinch she would tell Wearyall about it--seeing they were engaged. Weary was the kind that foundout things, anyway.

  What worried Happy Jack most was trying to discover how the dickensWeary found out he liked Annie Pilgreen; that was a secret which HappyJack had almost succeeded in keeping from himself, even. He would havebet money no one else suspected it--and yet here was Weary grinning andtelling him he and Annie were cut out for a tableau together. HappyJack pondered till he got a headache, and he did not come to anysatisfactory conclusion with himself, even then.

  The rest of the Happy Family stayed late at the school-house, and Wearyand Chip discussed something enthusiastically in a corner with theLittle Doctor and the schoolma'am. The Little Doctor said thatsomething was a shame, and that it was mean, to tease a fellow asbashful as Happy Jack.

  Weary urged that sometimes Cupid needed a helping hand, and that itwould really be doing Happy a big favor, even if he didn't appreciateit at the time. So in the end the girls agreed and the thing wassettled.

  The Happy Family rode home in the crisp starlight gurgling and leaningover their saddle-horns in spasmodic fits of laughter. But when theytrooped into the bunk-house they might have been deacons returning fromprayer meeting so far as their decorous behavior was concerned. HappyJack was in bed, covered to his ears and he had his face to the wall.They cast covert glances at his carroty top-knot and went silently tobed--which was contrary to habit.

  At the third rehearsal, just as the Chinese Giant stepped off thecoal-oil box--thereby robbing himself miraculously of two feet ofstature--the schoolma'am approached him with a look in her big eyesthat set him shivering. When she laid a finger mysteriously upon hisarm and drew him into the corner sacred to secret consultations, theforehead of Happy Jack resembled the outside of a stone water-jar inhot weather. He knew beforehand just about what she would say. It wasthe tableau that had tormented his sleep and made his days a misery forthe last ten days--the tableau with red fire and Annie Pilgreen.

  Miss Satterly told him that she had already spoken to Annie, and thatAn
nie was willing if Happy Jack had no objections. Happy Jack had, buthe could not bring himself to mention the fact.

  The schoolma'am had not quoted Annie's reply verbatim, but that wasmere detail. When she had asked Annie if she would take part in atableau with Happy Jack, Annie had dropped her pale eyelids and said:"Yes, ma'am." Still it was as much as the schoolma'am, knowing Annie,could justly expect.

  Annie Pilgreen was an anaemic sort of creature with pale eyes,ash-colored hair that clung damply to her head, and a colorlesscomplexion; her conversational powers were limited to "Yes, sir" and"No, sir" (or Ma'am if sex demanded and Annie remembered in time). ButHappy Jack loved her; and when a woman loves and is loved, herexistence surely is justified for all time.

  Happy Jack sent a despairing glance of appeal at the Happy Family; butthe Family was very much engaged, down by the stove. Cal Emmett wasfanning himself with _Mrs. Jarley's_ poppy-loaded bonnet and refreshinghis halting memory of the lecture with sundry promptings from Len Adamswho held the book. Chip Bennett was whittling his sword into shape andWeary was drumming a tattoo in the great wooden bowl with the spoon heused to devour poisoned rice upon the stage. The others were variouslyengaged; not one of them appeared conscious of the fact that Happy Jackwas facing the tragedy of his bashful life.

  Before he realized it, Miss Satterly had somehow managed to worm fromhim a promise, and after that nothing mattered. The Wax-works, thetree, the whole entertainment dissolved into a blurred background,against which he was to stand with Annie Pilgreen, for the amusement ofhis neighbors, who would stamp their feet and shout derisive things athim. Very likely he would be subjected to the agony of an encore, andhe knew, beyond all doubt, that he would never be permitted to forgetthe figure he should cut; for Happy Jack knew he was as unbeautiful asa hippopotamus and as awkward. He wondered why he, of all the fellowswho were to take part, should be chosen for that tableau; it seemed tohim they ought to pick out someone who was at least passablygood-looking and hadn't such big, red hands and such immense feet. Hisplodding brain revolved the mystery slowly and persistently.

  When he remounted his wooden pedestal, thereby transforming himselfinto a Chinese Giant of wax, he looked the part. Where the otherstatues broke into giggles, to the detriment of their mechanicalperfection, or squirmed visibly when the broken alarm clock whirred itssignal against the small of their backs, Happy Jack stood immovablyupright, a gigantic figure with features inhumanly stolid. Theschoolma'am pointed him out as an example to the others, and pronouncedhim enthusiastically the best actor in the lot.

  "Happy's swallowed his medicine--that's what ails him," the JapaneseDwarf whispered to Captain Kidd, and grinned.

  The Captain turned his head and studied the brooding features of thegiant. "He's doing some thinking," he decided. "When he gets thething figured out, in six months or a year, and savvies it was a put-upjob from the start, somebody'll have it coming."

  "He can't pulverize the whole bunch, and he'll never wise up to who'sthe real sinner," Weary comforted himself.

  "Don't you believe it. Happy doesn't think very often; when he doesthough, he can ring the bell--give him time enough."

  "Here, you statues over there want to let up on the chin-whacking orI'll hand yuh a few with this," commanded _Mrs. Jarley_, and shook thestove-poker threateningly.

  The Japanese Dwarf returned to his poisoned rice and Captain Kiddapologized to his victim, who was frowning reproof at him, and therehearsal proceeded haltingly.

  That night, Weary rode home beside Happy Jack and tried to lift him outof the slough of despond. But Happy refused to budge, mentally, aninch. He rode humped in the saddle like a calf in its first blizzard,and he was discouragingly unresponsive; except once, when Wearyreminded him that the tableau would need no rehearsing and that itwould only last a minute, anyway, and wouldn't hurt. Whereupon HappyJack straightened and eyed him meditatively and finally growled, "Awgwan; I betche you put her up to it, yuh darned chump."

  After that Weary galloped ahead and overtook the others and told themHappy Jack was thinking and mustn't be disturbed, and that he thoughtit would not be fatal to anyone, though it was kinda hard on Happy.

  From that night till Christmas eve, Happy Jack continued to think. Itwas not, however, till the night of the entertainment, when he wasriding gloomily alone on his way to the school-house, that Happy Jackreally felt that his brain had struck pay dirt. He took off his hat,slapped his horse affectionately over the ears with it and grinned forthe first time since the Thanksgiving dance. "Yes sir," he saidemphatically aloud, "I betche that's how it is, all right and Ibetche--"

  The schoolma'am, her cheeks becomingly pink from excitement, flutteredbehind the curtain for a last, flurried survey of stage properties andactors. "Isn't Johnny here, yet?" she asked of Annie Pilgreen who hadjust come and still bore about her a whiff of frosty, night air.Johnny was first upon the program, with a ready-made address beginning,"Kind friends, we bid you welcome on this gladsome day," and the timefor its delivery was overdue.

  Out beyond the curtain the Kind Friends were waxing impatient and thejuvenile contingent was showing violent symptoms of descendingprematurely upon the glittering little fir tree which stood in a cornernext the stage. Back near the door, feet were scuffling audibly uponthe bare floor and a suppressed whistle occasionally cut into the humof subdued voices. Miss Satterly was growing nervous at the delay, andshe repeated her question impatiently to Annie, who was staring atnothing very intently, as she had a fashion of doing.

  "Yes, ma'am," she answered absently. Then, as an afterthought, "He'soutside, talking to Happy Jack."

  Annie was mistaken; Happy Jack was talking to Johnny. The schoolma'amtried to look through a frosted window.

  "I do wish they'd hurry in; it's getting late, and everybody's here andwaiting." She looked at her watch. The suppressed whistle back nearthe door was gaining volume and insistence.

  "Can't we turn her loose, Girlie?" Weary came up and laid a handcaressingly upon her shoulder.

  "Johnny isn't here, yet, and he's to give the address of welcome._Why_ must people whistle and make a fuss like that, Will?"

  "They're just mad because they aren't in the show," said Weary. "Say,can't we cut out the welcome and sail in anyway? I'm getting kindashaky, dreading it."

  The schoolma'am shook her head. It would not do to leave outJohnny--and besides, country entertainments demanded the usual Addressof Welcome. It is never pleasant to trifle with an unwritten law likethat. She looked again at her watch and waited; the audience, beingperfectly helpless, waited also.

  Weary, listening to the whistling and the shuffling of feet, felt aqueer, qualmy feeling in the region of his diaphragm, and he yielded toa hunger for consolation and company in his misery. He edged over towhere Chip and Cal were amusing themselves by peeping at the audiencefrom behind the tree.

  "Say, how do yuh stack up, Cal?" he whispered, forlornly.

  "Pretty lucky," Cal told him inattentively, and the cheerfulness of hiswhole aspect grieved Weary sorely. But then, he explained to himself,Cal always did have the nerve of a mule.

  Weary sighed and wondered what in thunder ailed him, anyway; he wasuncertain whether he was sick, or just plain scared. "Feel all right,Chip?" he pursued; anxiously.

  "Sure," said Chip, with characteristic brevity. "I wonder who thosesilver-mounted spurs are for, there on the tree? They've been put onsince this afternoon--can't yuh stretch your neck enough to read thename, Cal? They're the real thing, all right."

  Weary's dejection became more pronounced. "Oh, mamma! am I the onlyknock-kneed son-of-a-gun in this crowd?" he murmured, and turneddisconsolately away. His spine was creepy cold with stage fright; helistened to the sounds beyond the shielding curtain and shivered.

  Just then Johnny and Happy Jack appeared looking rather red and guilty,and Johnny was thrust unceremoniously forward to welcome his kindfriends and still the rising clamor.

  Things went smoothly after th
at. It is true that Weary, as theJapanese Dwarf, halted the Wax-works and glared glassily at the facesstaring back at him while the alarm clock buzzed unheeded against hisspine. _Mrs. Jarley_, however, was equal to the emergency. Sheproceeded calmly to wind him up the second time, gave Weary anadmonitory kick and whispered, "Come alive, yuh chump," and turned tothe audience.

  "This here Japanese Dwarf I got second-handed at a bargain sale forthree-forty-nine, marked down for one week only," she explainedblandly. "I got cheated like h--like I always do at them bargainsales, for it's about wore out. I guess I can make the thing work wellenough to show yuh what it's meant to represent, though." She gaveWeary another kick, commanded him again to "Come out of it and getbusy," and the Dwarf obediently ate its allotted portion of poison.And every one applauded Weary more enthusiastically than they had theothers, for they thought it was all his part. So much for justice.

  "Our last selection will be a tableau entitled, 'Under the Mistletoe,'"announced the schoolma'am's clear tones. Then she took up her guitarand went down from the stage to where the Little Doctor waited with hermandolin. While the tableau was being arranged they meant to playtogether in lieu of a regular orchestra. The schoolma'am's brow wassmooth, for the entertainment had been a success so far; and thetableau would be all right, she was sure--for Weary had charge of that.She hoped that Happy Jack would not hate it so very much, and that itwould help to break the ice between him and Annie Pilgreen. So sheplucked the guitar strings tentatively and began to play.

  Behind the curtain, Annie Pilgreen stood simpering in her place andHappy Jack went reluctantly forward, resigned and deplorablyinefficient. Weary, himself again now that his torment was over, posedhim cheerfully. But Happy Jack did not get the idea. He stood, asWeary told him disgustedly, looking like a hitching-post. Wearylabored with him desperately, his ear strained to keep in touch withthe music which would, at the proper time, die to a murmur which wouldbe a signal for the red fire and the tableau. Already the lamps werebeing turned low, out there beyond the curtain.

  Though it was primarily a scheme of torture for Happy Jack, Weary wasanxious that it should be technically perfect. He became impatient."Say, _don't_ stand there like a kink-necked horse, Happy!" he imploredunder his breath. "Ain't there any joints in your arms?"

  "I ain't never practised it," Happy Jack protested in a hoarse whisper."I never even seen a tableau in my life, even. If somebody'd show meonce, so's I could get the hang of it--"

  "Oh, mamma! you're a peach, all right. Here, give me that sage brush!Now, watch. We haven't got all night to make medicine over it. See?Yuh want to hold it over her head and kinda bend down, like yuh weredaring yourself to kiss--"

  Happy Jack backed off to get the effect; incidentally, he took thecurtain back with him; also incidentally--, Johnny dropped a match intothe red fire, which glowed beautifully. Weary caught his breath, buthe was game and never moved any eyelash.

  The red glow faded and left an abominable smell behind it, and somemerciful hand drew the curtain--but it was not the hand of Happy Jack.He had gone out through the window and was crouching beneath itdrinking in greedily the hand-clapping and the stamping of feet and thewhistling, with occasional shouts of mirth which he recognized ascoming from the rest of the Happy Family. It all sounded very sweet tothe great, red ears of Happy Jack.

  When the clatter showed signs of abatement he stole away to where hishorse was tied, his sorrel coat gleaming with frost sparkles in themoonlight. "It's you and me to hit the trail, Spider," he croaked tothe horse, and with his bare hand scraped the frost from the saddle.

  A tall figure crept up from behind and grappled with him. Spiderdanced away as far as the rope would permit and snorted, and twostruggling forms squirmed away from his untrustworthy heels.

  "Aw, leggo!" cried Happy Jack when he could breathe again.

  "I won't. You've got to come back and square yourself with Annie. Howdo yuh reckon she's feeling at the trick yuh played on her, yuhlop-eared--"

  Happy Jack jerked loose and stood grinning in the moonlight. "Aw,gwan. Annie knowed I was goin' to do it," he retorted, loftily."Annie and me's engaged." He got into the saddle and rode off,shouting back taunts.

  Weary stood bareheaded in the cold and stared after him blankly.