Part 28 (1/2)

”Don't you go wastin' any sympathy on that old renegade,” cut in Vil.

”That's right,” laughed Christie, noting the genuine concern in the girl's eyes. ”As a matter of fact, I have in mind a subst.i.tute who will be tickled to death to learn that she is to have the regular position. Didn't I tell you out at the Samuelsons' that I had a hunch you'd make your strike before school time? Of course, everyone knows that Vil is the one who made the real strike, but you'll find that the claim you've staked isn't so bad, and that after you get down through the surface, you will run onto a whole lot of pure gold.”

Patty who had been regarding him with a slightly puzzled expression suddenly caught his allusion, and she smiled happily into the face of her cowboy. ”I've already found pure gold,” she said, ”and it lies mighty close to the surface.”

In the little church after the hastily summoned witnesses had departed, the Reverend Len Christie stood holding a hand of each.

”Never in my life have I performed a clerical office that gave me so much genuine happiness and satisfaction,” he announced.

”Me, neither,” a.s.sented Vil Holland, heartily, and, then--”Hold on, Len. You're too blame young an' good lookin' for such tricks--an'

besides, I've never kissed her, myself, yet----!”

”Where will it be now?” asked Holland, when they found themselves once more upon the street.

”Home--dear,” whispered his wife. ”You know we've got to get that cabin up before snow flies--our cabin, Vil--with the porch that will look out over the snows of the changing lights.”

”If the whole town didn't have their heads out the window, watchin' us I'd kiss you right here,” he answered, and strode off to lead her horse up beside his own.

Swinging her into the saddle, he was about to mount Lightning, when she leaned over and raised the brown leather jug on its thong. ”Why, it's empty!” she exclaimed.

”So it is,” agreed Holland, with mock concern.

”Really, Vil, I don't care--so much. If it don't hurt men any more than it has hurt you, I won't quarrel with it. I'll wait while you get it filled.”

”Maybe I'd better,” he said, and swinging it from the saddle horn, crossed the street and entered the general store. A few minutes later he returned and swung the jug into place.

”Why! Do they sell whisky at the store? I thought you got that at a saloon.”

”Whisky!” The man looked up in surprise. ”This jug never held any whisky! It's my vinegar jug. I don't drink.”

Patty stared at him in amazement. ”Do you mean to tell me you carry a jug of vinegar with you wherever you go?”

For the first time since she had known him she saw that his eyes were twinkling, and that his lips were very near a smile. ”No, not exactly, but, you see, that first time I met you I happened to be riding from town with this jug full of vinegar. I noticed the look you gave it, an' it tickled me most to death. So, after that, every time I figured I'd meet up with you I brought the jug along. I'd pour out the vinegar an' fill it up with water, an' sometimes I'd just pack it empty--then when I'd hit town, I'd get it filled again. I bet Johnson, over there, thinks I'm picklin' me a winter's supply of p.r.i.c.kly pears. I must have bought close to half a barrel of vinegar this summer.”

”Vil Holland! You carried that jug--went to all that trouble, just to--to _tease_ me?”