Part 11 (1/2)

Fan received the people at the door of the shack--her mother being too busy in the preparation for dinner to do more than say ”Howdy?” to those who deliberately sought her out; but Fan was not embarra.s.sed or wearied.

It was her great day--she was only a little disturbed when George Adelbert fled to his room for a little relief from the strain of his position, for he lacked both her serenity of spirit and her physical health.

Once Lester would have enjoyed the action and comment of these people as characters in a play, but now the knowledge that he was about to sink to their level and be nailed there filled him with a fear and disgust which not even the radiant face and alluring body of his bride could conceal or drive out. These lumbering ranchers, these tobacco-chewing, drawling lumpkins, were they to be his companions for the rest of his life? These women with their toothless, shapeless mouths, these worn and weary mothers in home-made calico and cheap millinery, were they to be the visitors at his fireside? What kind of woman would they make of Fan?

By one o'clock the corrals were full of ponies and the sheds and yards crowded with carriages all faded by the pitiless sun and sucked dry by the never-resting wind of the plain.

Meanwhile the young women had set long tables in the back yard and covered them with food--contributed chicken, home-made biscuit, cake, and pie, while the young fellows had been noisily working at constructing a ”bowery” for the dance which was to follow the ceremony at three. And at last Fan raised a bugle-call for ”_dinner!_” and they all came with a rush.

The feast did not last long, for every one was hungry and ate without permitting delay or distraction. Nearly all remarked on having had a very early breakfast, and they certainly showed capacity for not merely beef and beer, but pie and ice-cream, and when they shoved back, and lighted the cigars which Lester had provided with prodigal hand, they all agreed that the barbecue was ”up to the bills.”

The ceremony at three was short, almost hurried, so great was the bustle about the house and yard. Fan wore no veil and George Adelbert made no change from the neat sack-suit which he had put on at rising. At the close of the clergyman's blessing he was called upon for a second time to pump the hard hands and stringy arms of his neighbors as they filed by to bid them both a hearty G.o.d-speed.

After this painful procession was ended Fan dragged him away to the bower where the young folks were already dancing with prodigious clatter. ”How young she is!” he exclaimed, as he saw her mix with the crowd of tireless, stamping, prancing cowboys.

As the dance went on he grew furious with her lack of reserve, her indelicacy. Her good-natured laughter with the men who crowded about her familiarly was a kind of disloyalty. She seemed at times to be exchanging doubtful jests with them; and at last, to protect her from the results of her own fatuity, he danced with her himself--danced almost incessantly, notwithstanding the heat and the noise.

At sunset they all returned to the tables and ate up what remained of the ox and the pies.

Lester was well enough acquainted with these rough youths to know that some deviltry was preparing, and, already furious with his bride and distrustful of the future, his self-command at last gave way. Drawing Fan away from the crowd he said, tenderly:

”I've had enough of this! I'm having Aglar harness the buckskins into the red cart, and I want you to go to the house and pack a few things--we're going to Limone and catch the early train for Denver.”

”We can't do that, Dell; we got to stay here and feed this gang once more.”

”Oh, hang the gang! I'm sick of them. Get ready, I tell you! Who cares what these beggars think?”

She laughed. ”You're jealous of them.” Then, rising to his pa.s.sion, she answered, ”All right; I'll sneak some clothes into a bag and we'll slide out and leave the gang.”

A half-hour later they stole away toward the back of the garden and out upon the prairie, where a Mexican was holding a spirited team. Fan was giggling so hard that she was barely able to lift the valise which she carried in her hand.

”Don't you tell,” she said to the Mexican. ”If they ask, say we went to Holcombe.”

”All right. I _sabe_,” the Mexican replied. Even as he spoke the music in the bower ceased and voices were heard in question.

Fan sobered. ”They've missed us already.”

Lester took the reins. ”Send 'em south, Aglar,” and at his chirp the team sprang forward out upon the road into the coolness and silence of the midnight plain.

Fan, clutching Lester's arm, shook with laughter. ”It's like eloping--ain't it?”

The tone of her voice irritated him. ”Good Heaven! how vulgar she is!

And she is my wife,” was his thought; and he took no pleasure in her nearness.

Wild whoops reached them from the ranch-house now hid in the valley behind them, and a few moments later the yells broke out again perceptibly nearer.

”They're after us!” cried Fan, vastly excited and pleased. ”It's a race now,” and, catching the whip from his hand, she lashed the horses into a gallop.

He said: ”I'll turn into the Sun-Fish Trail; we'll throw 'em off the track.”