Part 60 (1/2)
”No. Be quiet.”
_”No?_ How you marry you self, then?”
The conversation would be still more embarra.s.sing before the Colonel, so he stopped, and said shortly: ”In our country n.o.body beats a woman because he likes her.”
”How she know, then?”
”They _agree_, I tell you.”
”Oh--an' girl--just come--when he call? Oh-h!” She dropped her jaw, and stared. ”No fight a _little?”_ she gasped. ”No scream quite _small?”_
_”No_, I tell you.” He ran on and joined the Colonel. Muckluck stood several moments rooted in amazement.
Yagorsha had called the rest of the Pymeuts out, for these queer guests of theirs were evidently going at last.
They all said ”Goo'-bye” with great goodwill. Only Muckluck in her chilly ”Holy Cross clo'es” stood sorrowful and silent, swinging her medal slowly back and forth.
Nicholas warned them that the Pymeut air-hole was not the only one.
”No,” Yagorsha called down the slope; ”better no play tricks with _him_.” He nodded towards the river as the travellers looked back. ”Him no like. Him got heap plenty mouths--chew you up.” And all Pymeut chuckled, delighted at their story-teller's wit.
Suddenly Muckluck broke away from the group, and ran briskly down to the river trail.
”I will pray for you--hard.” She caught hold of the Boy's hand, and shook it warmly. ”Sister Winifred says the Good Father--”
”Fact is, Muckluck,” answered the Boy, disengaging himself with embarra.s.sment, ”my pardner here can hold up that end. Don't you think you'd better square Yukon Inua? Don't b'lieve he likes me.”
And they left her, s.h.i.+vering in her ”Holy Cross clo'es,” staring after them, and sadly swinging her medal on its walrus-string.
”I don't mind sayin' I'm glad to leave Pymeut behind,” said the Colonel.
”Same here.”
”You're safe to get into a muss if you mix up with anything that has to do with women. That Muckluck o' yours is a minx.”
”She ain't my Muckluck, and I don't believe she's a minx, not a little bit.”
Not wis.h.i.+ng to be too hard on his pardner, the Colonel added:
”I lay it all to the chaparejos myself.” Then, observing his friend's marked absence of hilarity, ”You're very gay in your fine fringes.”
”Been a little too gay the last two or three hours.”
”Well, now, I'm glad to hear you say that. I think myself we've had adventures enough right here at the start.”
”I b'lieve you. But there's something in that idea o' yours. Other fellas have noticed the same tendency in chaparejos.”
”Well, if the worst comes to the worst,” drawled the Colonel, ”we'll change breeches.”
The suggestion roused no enthusiasm.