I had struck the Diamond Dot in a tol'able wide variety o' moods; but I never felt like I did the mornin' I came back to ditch Barbie's weddin'. I knew 'at the chances were 'at I'd break her heart; but I had only one course open, an' I didn't intend to waver. I had gone on through to Laramie, an' had found 'at Silver Dick's wife was still there, livin' her locked-in life. Then I came on back through Danders to Webb Station where I hired a feller to drive me to within a mile o' the ranch house. All he knew was that the weddin' was to come off in three weeks.
Jabez an' Barbie was both glad to see me; but I didn't make much explanation for leavin' without notice, an' I didn't tell all about my trip. Just told 'em about my experience as a knight an' on the boat an' such. Barbie was purty thin an' a little under color; but her grit was still keyed up to full tone. I had a good long talk with her that very afternoon, tellin' her that I had found out a lot o' stuff about the remnant she was thinkin' o' marryin', an' tried to get her to test him out an' find out where he'd come from an' what he was; but she seemed numb, an' told me that she would not think it friendly if I said anything evil against the man she had to marry. I couldn't understand her, she didn't seem like the same old Barbie; but the more I hinted the more froze-up she got, so I dropped it.
Then I told her that I had found out that Dick was even worse'n this one; an' she opened up on me an' we had a purty square-off talkin' match. She wouldn't listen to me, an' she wouldn't pay any heed to my suggestions; an' I was consid'able out of patience. I was afraid if I turned her again Dick she might marry this Hawthorn thing, an' if I turned her again him too soon she might run off with Dick on the rebound; so I was purty much hobbled, an' made a botch of it. Finally she turned on me. "We've been good pals, Happy," sez she, "an' we'll be good pals again some day; but you're not playin' square now—I can tell by your actions. I almost believe 'at what you're tryin' to do is to—" she stopped with her face red as fire.
"Well, say it," sez I.
"Is to marry me yourself," she blurted out.
I didn't say anything for a long time. I made every allowance for her, an' I knew 'at some one had threw it in her face, 'cause this wasn't one of her own brand o' thoughts; but I'm not all horn an' bone, an' when I saw that she intended to go her own gait I made up my mind that she'd know at the end of the course that she might have saved herself several hard bumps.
"Barbie." I sez, an' at my voice she turned her face an' looked a little frightened, "I ain't denyin' that I'd rather marry you than be sure of gettin' into Heaven; but I want you to remember one thing, an' that is that if I ever do marry you it will be because you ask me to yourself."
We rode side by side back to the ranch house, an' her head wasn't held an inch higher than mine nor her lips shut a grain tighter. I was willin' to be used for a bumper; but I couldn't stand everything even when I knew 'at she'd been hounded beyond endurance. From that on Barbie was some cool to me; but I wasn't there for a vacation, I had a duty to perform. Poor little Barbie, she didn't act much like a bride elect. Jabez wanted a weddin' that would be the talk for years; but Barbie said no, that she felt more like a widder than a maid, an' she didn't take much stock in turnin' a second weddin' into a circus. I didn't say nothin'. The ol' man didn't contrary her much them days, so he dropped the subject; but he sent all the way to Frisco for a store full o' fixin's an' a couple o' women to engineer the construction of 'em.
A full week passed without me hearin' from Dick, an' then I telegraphed to the Governor. I waited at Webb Station till I got the answer. He said 'at he had give Dick my letter an' that he had left two days before. That kept me on edge 'cause I wanted to see him when he first arrived; so I kept a couple o' the boys watchin' each road; but day after day dragged around until I got desperate. For all I knew Silver Dick had enough black blood in him to take advantage of me an' just fly his kite. He might have got news from England too, an' all in all I was agitated.
Two days before the ceremony was scheduled I gave him up an' made a run to Laramie. I wasn't sure just what I would do, but I was minded to get all the evidence I could. I tried to get speech with Dick's wife, but she wouldn't pay any heed to my knocks, an' finally the lights in the house went out. I scented trouble; so when a couple o' men pounced onto the place where I'd just stood they found me immejetly behind 'em, an' I rapped 'em on the heads before they could express a sound. I heard a noise at the keyhole an' I whispered in, "If you want to save the life o' Silver Dick, open the door."
I waited a minute an' then the door opened an inch, but a chain kept it from goin' any wider. A woman's coarse voice sez, "What do ya want?" I couldn't believe that this was the woman, so I sez, "I want to speak to the other woman, an' it's got to be done quick."
Presently a soft, gentle voice sez, "What is it?"
"Silver Dick is in the Texas penitentiary, sentenced to be hanged for a murder committed there in April four years ago. He'll be hanged a week from to-morrow night if some one don't make a plea for him. It takes a woman to do such a job as this—are you game?"
"Why, he couldn't have done it," sez she. "He was here all that spring."
"Are you willin' to swear to it?" sez I.
"Oh, I don't want to appear in public—but of course I will, if the' ain't no other way."
"You won't have to if you'll come with me to-night. The Governor of Texas is up here on a huntin' trip; he'll be at a party to-morrow night; all you'll need to do is to wait in a room where I'll hide you until he gets into a meller mood—I know him well—an' then I'll bring him to you an' you make a plea for him. You can be his wife or his mother or daughter—or anything you wish."
"I'll go," sez she, in a quiet tone, an' I breathed free; an' as soon as she opened the door I dragged the two men inside. They were Greasers, the same as the old woman what had first talked to me; an' I turned 'em over to her a' took the woman with the soft voice down to the train by a back street. She still wore a heavy veil, an' I never looked at her—not right straight—but I could see that she walked with her feet an' held her head on the top of her neck; so I was purty certain that if Dick did return an' try to finish the weddin' as the star performer she'd give us an interestin' exhibition.
Spider Kelley was at the station when I got off the train. I turned the woman over to him, tellin' him to bring her out so as to arrive the evenin' of the weddin', not to talk to her, an' not to let Dick see her should he chance to come back that way; but to smuggle her into the office as soon as preparations for the ceremony got started. I still half looked for Dick, but I thought I had things blocked out, no matter what turned up, an' I flopped on my hoss an' rode him at about his best.
Everything around the house was whirlin' with preparation; but Barbie was about the palest lookin' bride 'at ever got ready to toe the scratch, I reckon. The Hawthorn critter had stayed over at his own ranch for the last week, an' Barbie wouldn't 'a' had no search-warrant swore out if he had sent over word that it looked so good to him that he had decided to continue to remain there for a million years.
The guests had arrived plenty early, an' whenever Barbie would stumble on to a bunch of 'em she would head up an' get right rompy again. We had about a ton o' stuff cooked, 'cause we was tol'able thoroughly experienced on the neighbors. Folks out our way ain't nowise uppity about such matters. All you need to do is to hint that a little celebration is goin' to be pulled off an' you can count on their presence; an' if so be 'at you've forgot anybody's invite, why like as not they'll hear about it anyway an' be on hand in plenty o' time. The weddin' was scheduled for Wednesday evenin' at eight thirty; but by Sunday the house was full an' the grounds looked like an Injun camp-meetin'.
Jabez, intended to give Barbie the full penalty; none o' your squires for him, nothin' but Friar Tuck, who was one o' these here Episcolopian preachers what sport a full regalia an' a book o' tactics calculated to meet any complication a human bein' is apt to veer into. Some say they're just Roman Catholics, gone Republican, an' some say that they're the ones who started the first strike—I don't know much about it myself.
He hadn't arrived by seven o'clock, but we didn't worry none; he might have had to come fifty miles, an' he never had any time to waste.
We'd had a sort o' light supper at four o'clock, an' it was intended to have the weddin' feast after the performance was finished. It was just eight o'clock when Friar Tuck swung off his pony an' as many of the crowd as could gathered in the big dinin' room an' waited for the words to be said. Spidier Kelley came an' told me that he had locked the woman in the office, an' that she was behavin' herself reasonable, so I knew 'at the finish wasn't far off. The tables an' chairs had been taken out, the intention bein' to dance in the store-room after the ceremony, an' while the dancin' was goin' on to set the banquet in the dinin' room. Oh, it was all planned out like a theater show: Jabez had a full orchestra too, three fiddlers, a guitarist, an' a fifer; an' they began to play solemn music, like they allus do at a wedding. It's a toss-up which is the most touchin', a weddin' or a funeral,—a feller's takin' a mighty long shot at either one.
The whole crowd was on edge, but myself was strained to the breakin' point. Just as the old clock struck the half hour the orchestra pealed forth a march, an' they all came struttin' in, slow an' stately an' top-heavy, accordin' to the city way. Jabez was in a brand-new suit o' black store clothes, an' had a mighty proud look on his face; he was wearin' gloves too. Barbie was a-leanin' on his arm, an' she was wearin' a dress 'at would 'a' made some o' the queens crane their necks a bit, I reckon. Hawthorn had his nerve with him, an' wore a low-necked vest an' a droop-tailed coat. I had my own rig like this hid away in the stallion stable; so it didn't jar me none; but some o' the boys had a hard time chokin' back their grins. It was the first weddin' I had ever seen where the groom hadn't wore a silk handkerchief around his neck.
They all met in front o' Friar Tuck, who was standin' under a tissha paper bell with about four miles o' ribbon tied to it. I couldn't see Barbie's face on account o' the veil she was wearin'; but she held her head high, an' I knew she was ready to take all the jumps without balkin'. The Friar had one o' these voices 'at never seem to say an idle word, an' the room got as still as though it was a trial for life; which ain't so mighty far off the mark, that bein' the usual sentence, an' out our way we don't count it game to get pardoned out for a new trial.
I was on pins an' needles durin' the openin', but Friar Tuck boomed along until he arrived at the part where it sez "If any man knows just cause why this here couple should not be joined together in holy wedlock let him make his kick right now, or forever after hold his peace." The room was as still as the grave, an' I had just taken a full breath, so that I could make a clean throw, when a deep voice at the back of the room sez: "I think that I know a cause. I don't believe the girl is doin' this of her own free will."
We all whirled around, an' there stood Silver Dick. Dusty he was an' travel-stained; but as he loomed up, straight an' tall, he certainly did look like a man. His beard was gone, his face was pale with a sort of unnatural whiteness, an' he was ganted down in weight a little; but all the same he put up a great front as he stood with his hands on his hips, his head thrown back, an' a grim smile on his face. Quick as a flash the ol' man, who had half expected this, pulls a gun out of his pocket an' drops it on Dick, while the crowd politely splits apart to give 'em a fair show. Barbie had settled back, an' I caught her in my arms an' held her a moment; but all the time my eyes were on Dick as though I'd been charmed.
Never in my life have I seen such a figger of a man as him, as he stood there alone an' unfriended. His hat was tilted back a bit, an' his short wavey hair rippled across his forehead, his mustache had been shaved off and his lips somehow reminded me of the muzzle of a gun, they was that firm; while his eyes—man, he had the greatest eyes in the world. Blue steel they was, but never for a moment free from some hidden fire. When he smiled they danced; when he frowned they blazed; but to-night the' was a new darin' in 'em,—a confidence, a purpose, an' a strength that defied Death himself.
He had changed a heap since we'd seen him last. His face was as smooth as a woman's, his hands were white, an' his clothes looked like picture clothes out of a book. He didn't speak for some time, an' then he said: "Is your gun broke, Mr. Judson, or do you think it would be only the square thing to talk things over first? I think I can interest you. I am not armed; perhaps you would be more comfortable if you lowered your gun until you were ready to shoot."
The' was a sting in his slow, sarcastic tone, an' a scowl came over Jabez' face; but he lowered his gun just the same. I didn't want to soften any toward Dick so I had to keep grittin' my teeth as I watched him, 'cause bluffin' a man like Cast Steel, armed an' ready, was a stirrin' sight, an' Dick looked as if he had the backin' of an army.
"Mr. Judson," sez Dick, "when I left here your daughter was promised to marry me, an' I promised to write as often as possible; but after I started in to clean up my record I was denied the privilege of writin'. I am here now, with my record clean; the' ain't no spot on this earth where I don't feel free to go—an' now I claim her hand."
"Claim her hand, do ya?" sez Jabez, with a wicked leer. "Well, you allus was better at claimin' than at gettin'. I don't want to sadden my daughter's weddin' night, but if you ain't minded to go your way peaceable I'll have to spoil ya."
"Barbie," sez Dick, an' his voice was meller as a flute, "don't ya love me no more?"
She raised her head an' looked at him, but she couldn't speak, so she only nodded her head.
"Will ya marry me?" sez Dick, an' we all waited a long time for the answer.
Once or twice she tried it, before her voice finally got back to her, "Dick," she sez, "I waited for ya a long time, an' I never heard from you; so I thought 'at you had either forgot me or else you were—were no longer living; an'—oh, Dick, you have no idee how hard it has been for me. You can't imagine how often I refused, nor what a lonely life I was forced to live; but I've never ceased to love you, an' I allus told 'em so. Now I am half married to another man; an' I don't see what we can do."
"Well, I see what we can do!" blurts out Jabez, raisin' his gun again. "We can go right on with this ceremony. You have give your word, an' the word of a Judson is bindin'. As for you, you sneakin' card-sharp, I'll give you just ten to state your intentions."
Jabez started to count slow an' steady with his left forefinger, while he held his gun above his right shoulder ready for the drop. His face was white an' his eyes blazed like live coals. The' was no time to waste now; Dick had a card up his sleeve, an' this was his chance to take the trick, or he'd spoil my own game. The room was so still it hurt you to breathe. Somebody sneezed, an' it sounded like a boiler explosion.
"Judson," sez Dick, an' he was smilin' now; but it was the chillin' smile I had first seen durin' the card game. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "Judson, I did not cheat durin' that game, an' I never did cheat, although gamblin was my business. You have become a fanatic on the subject o' truth, an' I propose to tell you some. You are a bully; you have bullied this girl in order to make her consent; and you are a coward, a miserable coward. Any man afraid of his own past is a coward; and your past stands back of you like a ghost, doggin' your steps awake, an' hauntin' your dreams 'sleep. You preach the truth; but your entire life is one black—"
"Stop!" yells Jabez, holdin' his hand over his heart, but gettin' the drop on Dick, although his face looked like the face of a man long dead. "Say another word an' a bullet will drive it back through your teeth."
"All right," sez Dick, still smilin' his cruel, hard smile; "but you have only counted up to five, an' you gave me ten. You're surely honest enough to stick to your own agreement. Begin to count now, while I start the tale about Jack Whitman an' the Creole Belle—"
When Dick mentioned the name o' Jack Whitman both o' Jabez' arms fell to his side; an' when Dick spoke o' the Creole Belle his legs shut together like a pocket knife; an' he crumpled down on a little padded bench they had fixed up to kneel on. His face was gray, an' his eyes had a scum over 'em, while his mouth hung open like the mouth of a man dyin' of old age. Barbie gave a low, waverin' call: "Oh, what have you done, oh, Dick! Daddy, Daddy; what's the matter Dad?"
She jumped to his side, an' after tearin' off her veil she knelt at his feet; but he drew his hands feebly away, an' refused to touch her; while a look of sorrow—sorrow an' pain an' shame, swept across his old gray face, an' his lips trembled so 'at he couldn't talk.
I glanced at Silver Dick; he stood there with his lips set tight, his eyes cold an' hard, an' I knew 'at he was ready to make his kill, cost what it would.
"Oh, Daddy," pleaded Barbie, "don't look this way. Tell me what it is all about. Don't turn away from me, Dad; I don't care what it is, or whether it is true or false—I am ready to forgive you, an' to love you. Look at me. Daddy. I care more for you than for any one else in the whole world.
"Yes," she sez, standin' up an' flashin' a look into Dick's eyes as fierce as they had ever shot themselves. "Yes, an' if you think to win me by strikin' down my old Dad, why—we have both been mistaken, an' I despise you!"
Silver looked as though she had struck him in the face with a whip; the hot blood swept up to his hair, an' then left him ghastly white again; while she put her hand on the ol' man's shoulder an' looked like an eagle protectin' her brood. I looked around for Hawthorn, who had become entirely forgotten. Gee! how I envied him his chance just then; but there he stood, lookin' like a white rabbit bein' tried for murder. The girl looked at him too, gave him one long scornful look; then she looked back at Silver, standin' all alone like the statue of a king; an' then she looked up at me. "Happy," she sez, "you never failed me yet. Clear this room—clear it of every one but just ourselves."
"Clear the room," I yells. "Come, friends, this is the time to step lively. You can go into the store-room an' dance if you want to, but the weddin' has been postponed."
They filed out in good order, all except Dick, Friar Tuck, an' Hawthorn. Hawthorn stood leanin' again the wall, lookin' at Dick as though he was seein' a ghost. I tapped him on the shoulder. "Git!" I sez, "your number didn't win nothin'." He gives a start, then down on the floor he flops with his eyes turned in an' his mouth frothin' a little. Friar Tuck straightened him out an' began to rub his hands; an' I turned to Dick.
"Now, it's your turn to go," I sez. "I'd advise you to go clear to England, where you'll find good news."
He came toward me as if he didn't see me, an' when he reached me he said: "You better go along too, Happy. I want to talk to them alone."
"Jim," I said, usin' the old name, "I don't want to do you harm. This game is up; you'd better go along peaceable."
He looked at me a moment in surprise, an' then his face got haughty, an' he put out his hand to push me aside. I took him by the arm an' swung him over against the wall. At first he couldn't seem to understand that I was in ear-nest, an' then his hand shot to hip an' breast; but he had spoke the truth, he wasn't armed. I had him covered, an' he sneered into my face without speakin'. I walled over an' examined him, but he didn't have even a knife. I didn't have the heart to drive him forth like a dog, so I sez, too low for the rest to hear: "Jim, I know the double life you've been leadin'; but you can't break Barbie's heart. You're a married man, an' I know it."
"You lie," he sez, clear an' cold. It was just the word I needed.
I crossed the room an' laid my gun on a chair, an' then I turned to him. "We're equal now," sez I. "The winner gets the gun."
He wasn't as strong as I was, quite; an' he was some out o' condition; but he had had trainin' more than me, an' for a few minutes he stood me off; an' then as he struck at me I grabbed his wrist, his left wrist, with my right hand, shot it in close to his body, an' clamped it behind his back; while I got his throat with my left. Slowly I brought him to his knees, my fingers all the time workin' deeper into his throat, while his right kept jabbin' me till it made me grunt. No one tried to interfere at first; but then he got too weak to strike. Barbie said sharply, "Happy Hawkins, stop that at once!"
"I'll stop as soon as he promisses to go without further trouble," sez I.
She got up an' came across the room to us like a flash, an' seized the wrist that held Jim's throat. "Let him alone, Happy," she said fiercely.
I gave him a little push that sent him to the floor, an' then I picked up my gun. Jim rose to his feet; but the starch was purty well taken out of him, an' of course this touched her heart, she bein' a woman. "Are you hurt, Dick?" she sez sympathetic. "Yes, I'm hurt," he snaps back, glarin' at me; "not at what he's done, but at his lies."
"It's no lie," sez I.
"What was it?" asked Barbie—of Jim. He didn't answer for a minute, an' when he did his voice shook; but he looked into her eyes as he answered: "He said I was married."
Barbie drew away with a sharp gasp an' looked at him in horror; then she looked at me with her face all drawn up with anguish. "I tried to prepare you for this three weeks ago, Barbie," I sez, "an' you—you know what you threw in my face."
"Oh, Happy, Happy," she whispered, "it's not true, it's not true—say it's not true!"
"It is true, Barbie," sez I, an' she gave a scream.
"It is not true," sez Dick, an' she glanced from one to the other.
"I can prove it at once," sez I; "she's here to-night."
"Who?" asked Dick with a start.
"The wife you left in Laramie," sez I.
"Good God, you haven't brought her here, have you!" shouted Dick, an' Barbie a queer, heart-broken little laugh. "It's true, it's true," she sez. "You have convicted yourself, and it's true. Happy,"—she went on speakin' to me,—"of all the men I have ever known you are the only one that has been always true to me. You said that you would never marry me unless I asked you to—prove to me that this man is already married, an' I'll marry you. I'll get down on my knees an' beg you to marry me. The world seems full of wolves an' I want a man I can trust."
She was wild, an' the look in her eyes frightened me; but she came over an' put her hand on my arm, an' said: "Prove it, prove it, an' then let us go away together!"
"She's out in the office," sez I. "Shall I bring her in here?"
"No," sez Dick. "Happy, for heaven's sake don't do anything hasty."
"Bring her in, bring her in at once!" sez Barbie. "This is my wedding-day, an' my father wanted it to be the talk of the whole state. Bring her in!"
Just as I reached the door it opened, an' the strange woman came in with old Melisse, who was makin' queer throaty noises like a dog. Her veil was raised, an' I stepped back in surprise. She was an elderly woman with gray hair, white at the temples, an' dark eyes that rested for a moment on Dick, for a longer second on Barbie, an' then stopped when they met the starin' eyes of of Cast Steel, who had staggered to his feet.
He stood there with his hands clutchin' the side of his head, an' his lips movin' rapidly, but not a sound comin' through 'em, an' then his knees gave way beneath him, an' Friar Tuck eased him back to the little padded bench. The hands of the strange woman were clasped on her breast; but even when the rest of us started for Jabez she didn't move.
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