Chapter XII. Summer of '77

by Andy Adams

　　During our trip into Mexico the fall before, Deweese contracted forthree thousand cows at two haciendas on the Rio San Juan. Early in thespring June and I returned to receive the cattle. The ranch outfitunder Uncle Lance was to follow some three weeks later and camp on theAmerican side at Roma, Texas. We made arrangements as we crossed intoMexico with a mercantile house in Mier to act as our bankers, depositingour own drafts and taking letters of credit to the interior. In buyingthe cows we had designated Mier, which was just opposite Roma, as theplace for settlement and Uncle Lance on his arrival brought draftsto cover our purchases, depositing them with the same merchant. Onreceiving, we used a tally mark which served as a road brand, thuspreventing a second branding, and throughout--much to the disgust of theMexican vaqueros--Deweese enforced every humane idea which Nancrede hadpracticed the spring before in accepting the trail herd at Las Palomas.There were endless quantities of stock cattle to select from on the twohaciendas, and when ready to start, under the specifications, a finerlot of cows would have been hard to find. The worst drawback was thatthey were constantly dropping calves on the road, and before we reachedthe river we had a calf-wagon in regular use. On arriving at the RioGrande, the then stage of water was fortunately low and we crossedthe herd without a halt, the import papers having been attended to inadvance.Uncle Lance believed in plenty of help, and had brought down from LasPalomas an ample outfit of men and horses. He had also anticipated thedropping of calves and had rigged up a carrier, the box of which wasopen framework. Thus until a calf was strong enough to follow, themother, as she trailed along beside the wagon, could keep an eye on heroffspring. We made good drives the first two or three days; but afterclearing the first bottoms of the Rio Grande and on reaching thetablelands, we made easy stages of ten to twelve miles a day. When nearenough to calculate on our arrival at Las Palomas, the old ranchero quitus and went on into the ranch. Several days later a vaquero met the herdabout thirty miles south of Santa Maria, and brought the informationthat the Valverde outfit was at the ranch, and instructions to veerwestward and drive down the Ganso on approaching the Nueces. By theseorders the delivery on the home river would occur at least twenty mileswest of the ranch headquarters.As we were passing to the westward of Santa Maria, our employer andone of the buyers rode out from that ranch and met the herd. They haddecided not to brand until arriving at their destination on the Devil'sRiver, which would take them at least a month longer. While thisdeviation was nothing to us, it was a gain to them. The purchaser wasdelighted with the cattle and our handling of them, there being fullya thousand young calves, and on reaching their camp on the Ganso, thedelivery was completed--four days in advance of the specified time. Forfear of losses, we had received a few head extra, and, on counting themover, found we had not lost a single hoof. The buyers received theextra cattle, and the delivery was satisfactorily concluded. One of thepartners returned with us to Las Palomas for the final settlement, whilethe other, taking charge of the herd, turned them up the Nueces. Thereceiving outfit had fourteen men and some hundred and odd horses. Asidefrom their commissary, they also had a calf-wagon, drawn by two yoke ofoxen and driven by a strapping big negro. In view of the big calf crop,the partners concluded that an extra conveyance would not be amiss, andon Uncle Lance making them a reasonable figure on our calf-wagon and thefour mules drawing it, they never changed a word but took the outfit.As it was late in the day when the delivery was made, the double outfitremained in the same camp that night, and with the best wishes, badeeach other farewell in the morning. Nearly a month had passed sinceDeweese and I had left Las Palomas for the Rio San Juan, and, returningwith the herd, had met our own outfit at the Rio Grande. During theinterim, before the ranch outfit had started, the long-talked-oftournament on the Nueces had finally been arranged. The date had beenset for the fifth of June, and of all the home news which the outfitbrought down to the Rio Grande, none was as welcome as this. Accordingto the programme, the contests were to include riding, roping, relayraces, and handling the lance. Several of us had never witnessed atournament; but as far as roping and riding were concerned, we allconsidered ourselves past masters of the arts. The relay races weresimple enough, and Dan Happersett volunteered this explanation of alance contest to those of us who were uninitiated:--"Well," said Dan, while we were riding home from the Ganso, "a straighttrack is laid off about two hundred yards long. About every forty yardsthere is a post set up along the line with an arm reaching out over thetrack. From this there is suspended an iron ring about two inches indiameter. The contestant is armed with a wooden lance of regulationlength, and as he rides down this track at full speed and within atime limit, he is to impale as many of these rings as possible. Eachcontestant is entitled to three trials and the one impaling the mostrings is declared the victor. That's about all there is to it, exceptthe award. The festivities, of course, close with a dance, in which thewinner crowns the Queen of the ball. That's the reason the girls alwaystake such an interest in the lancing, because the winner has thechoosing of his Queen. I won it once, over on the Trinity, and chosea little cripple girl. Had to do it or leave the country, for it waslooked upon as an engagement to marry. Oh, I tell you, if a girl issweet on a fellow, it's a mighty strong card to play."Before starting for the Rio Grande, the old ranchero had worked ourhorse stock, forming fourteen new manadas, so that on our return aboutthe only work which could command our attention was the breaking ofmore saddle horses. We had gentled two hundred the spring before, andbreaking a hundred and fifty now, together with the old remudas, wouldgive Las Palomas fully five hundred saddle horses. The ranch had thegeldings, the men had time, and there was no good excuse for notgentling more horses. So after a few days' rest the oldest and heaviestgeldings were gathered and we then settled down to routine horse work.But not even this exciting employment could keep the coming tournamentfrom our minds. Within a week after returning to the ranch, we laid offa lancing course, and during every spare hour the knights of Las Palomasmight be seen galloping over the course, practicing. I tried using thelance several times, only to find that it was not as easy as it looked,and I finally gave up the idea of lancing honors, and turned myattention to the relay races.Miss Jean had been the only representative of our ranch at Shepherd's onSan Jacinto Day. But she had had her eyes open on that occasion, and onour return had a message for nearly every one of us. I was not expectingany, still the mistress of Las Palomas had met my old sweetheart and hersister, Mrs. Hunter, at the ferry, and the three had talked the matterover and mingled their tears in mutual sympathy. I made a blusteringtalk which was to cover my real feelings and to show that I had grownindifferent toward Esther, but that tactful woman had not lived in vain,and read me aright."Tom," said she, "I was a young woman when you were a baby. There's lotsof things in which you might deceive me, but Esther McLeod is not one ofthem. You loved her once, and you can't tell me that in less than a yearyou have forgotten her. I won't say that men forget easier than women,but you have never suffered one tenth the heartaches over Esther McLeodthat she has over you. You can afford to be generous with her, Tom.True, she allowed an older sister to browbeat and bully her intomarrying another man, but she was an inexperienced girl then. If youwere honest, you would admit that Esther of her own accord would neverhave married Jack Oxenford. Then why punish the innocent? Oh, Tom, ifyou could only see her now! Sorrow and suffering have developed thewoman in her, and she is no longer the girl you knew and loved."Miss Jean was hewing too close to the line for my comfort. Herobservations were so near the truth that they touched me in a vulnerablespot. Yet as I paced the room, I expressed myself emphatically as neverwishing to meet Esther McLeod again. I really felt that way. But I hadnot reckoned on the mistress of Las Palomas, nor considered that herstrong sympathy for my former sweetheart had moved her to more thanordinary endeavor.The month of May passed. Uncle Lance spent several weeks at the Boothranch on the Frio. At the home ranch practice for the contests wentforward with vigor. By the first of June we had sifted the candidatesdown until we had determined on our best men for each entry. The oldranchero and our segundo, together with Dan Happersett, made up a goodset of judges on our special fitness for the different contests, and wewere finally picked in this order: Enrique Lopez was to rope; PasqualeArispe was to ride; to Theodore Quayle fell the chance of handling thelance, while I, being young and nimble on my feet, was decided on as therider in the ten-mile relay race.In this contest I was fortunate in having the pick of over three hundredand fifty saddle horses. They were the accumulation of years of the bestthat Las Palomas bred, and it was almost bewildering to make the finalselection. But in this I had the benefit of the home judges, and whenthe latter differed on the speed of a horse, a trial usually settled thepoint. June Deweese proved to be the best judge of the ranch horses, yetUncle Lance never yielded his opinion without a test of speed. When thehorses were finally decided on, we staked off a half-mile circular trackon the first bottom of the river, and every evening the horses were sentover the course. Under the conditions, a contestant was entitled to useas many horses as he wished, but must change mounts at least twentytimes in riding the ten miles, and must finish under a time limit oftwenty-five minutes. Out of our abundance we decided to use ten mounts,thus allotting each horse two dashes of a half mile with a rest between.The horse-breaking ended a few days before the appointed time. LasPalomas stood on the tiptoe of expectancy over the coming tourney. EvenMiss Jean rode--having a gentle saddle horse caught up for her use, andtaking daily rides about the ranch, to witness the practice, for she wasas deeply interested as any of us in the forthcoming contests. Born tothe soil of Texas, she was a horsewoman of no ordinary ability, and rodelike a veteran. On the appointed day, Las Palomas was abandoned; eventhe Mexican contingent joining in the exodus for Shepherd's, and only afew old servants remaining at the ranch. As usual, Miss Jean started byambulance the afternoon before, taking along a horse for her own saddle.The white element and the vaqueros made an early start, driving aremuda of thirty loose horses, several of which were outlaws, and abell mare. They were the picked horses of the ranch--those which weexpected to use in the contests, and a change of mounts for the entireoutfit on reaching the martial field. We had herded the horses the nightbefore, and the vaqueros were halfway to the ferry when we overtookthem. Uncle Lance was with us and in the height of his glory, in onebreath bragging on Enrique and Pasquale, and admonishing and cautioningTheodore and myself in the next.On nearing Shepherd's, Uncle Lance preceded us, to hunt up the committeeand enter a man from Las Palomas for each of the contests. The groundhad been well chosen,--a large open bottom on the north side of theriver and about a mile above the ferry. The lancing course was laid off;temporary corrals had been built, to hold about thirty range cattlefor the roping, and an equal number of outlaw horses for the ridingcontests; at the upper end of the valley a half-mile circular racecoursehad been staked off. Throwing our outlaws into the corral, and leavingthe remuda in charge of two vaqueros, we galloped into Shepherd's withthe gathering crowd. From all indications this would be a red-letter dayat the ferry, for the attendance drained a section of country fully ahundred miles in diameter. On the north from Campbellton on the Atascosato San Patricio on the home river to the south, and from the Blanco onthe east to well up the Frio and San Miguel on the west, horsemen wereflocking by platoons. I did not know one man in twenty, but Deweesegreeted them all as if they were near neighbors. Later in the morning,conveyances began to arrive from Oakville and near-by points, and thepresence of women lent variety to the scene.Under the rules, all entries were to be made before ten o'clock. Thecontests were due to begin half an hour later, and each contestant wasexpected to be ready to compete in the order of his application. Therewere eight entries in the relay race all told, mine being the seventh,which gave me a good opportunity to study the riding of those whopreceded me. There were ten or twelve entries each in the roping andriding contests, while the knights of the lance numbered an even thirty.On account of the large number of entries the contests would require afull day, running the three classes simultaneously, allowing a slightintermission for lunch. The selection of disinterested judges for eachclass slightly delayed the commencement. After changing horses onreaching the field, the contests with the lance opened with a lad fromRamirena, who galloped over the course and got but a single ring. Fromthe lateness of our entries, none of us would be called until afternoon,and we wandered at will from one section of the field to another. "Red"Earnest, from Waugh's ranch on the Frio, was the first entry in therelay race. He had a good mount of eight Spanish horses which he rodebareback, making many of his changes in less than fifteen secondsapiece, and finishing full three minutes under the time limit. The featwas cheered to the echo, I joining with the rest, and numerous friendlybets were made that the time would not be lowered that day. Two otherriders rode before the noon recess, only one of whom came under the timelimit, and his time was a minute over Earnest's record.Miss Jean had camped the ambulance in sight of the field, and kept openhouse to all comers. Suspecting that she would have Mrs. Hunter andEsther for lunch, if they were present, I avoided our party and tookdinner with Mrs. Booth. Meanwhile Uncle Lance detailed Deweese andHappersett to handle my horses, allowing us five vaqueros, anddistributing the other men as assistants to our other three contestants.The day was an ideal one for the contests, rather warm during themorning, but tempered later by a fine afternoon breeze. It was afterfour o'clock when I was called, with Waugh's man still in the lead.Forming a small circle at the starting-point, each of our vaqueros leda pair of horses, in bridles only, around a ring,--constantly having inhand eight of my mount of ten. As handlers, I had two good men in oursegundo and Dan Happersett. I crossed the line amid the usual shoutingwith a running start, determined, if possible, to lower the record ofRed Earnest. In making the changes, all I asked was a good grip on themane, and I found my seat as the horse shot away. The horses had brokeninto an easy sweat before the race began, and having stripped to thelowest possible ounce of clothing, I felt that I was getting out of themevery fraction of speed they possessed. The ninth horse in my mount, aroan, for some unknown reason sulked at starting, then bolted out on theprairie, but got away with the loss of only about ten seconds, runningthe half mile like a scared wolf. Until it came the roan's turn to goagain, no untoward incident happened, friendly timekeepers posting meat every change of mounts. But when this bolter's turn came again, hereared and plunged away stiff-legged, crossed the inward furrow, andbefore I could turn him again to the track, cut inside the course fortwo stakes or possibly fifty yards. By this time I was beyond recall,but as I came round and passed the starting-point, the judges attemptedto stop me, and I well knew my chances were over. Uncle Lance promptlywaived all rights to the award, and I was allowed to finish the race,lowering Earnest's time over twenty seconds. The eighth contestant, so Ilearned later, barely came under the time limit.The vaqueros took charge of the relay mounts, and, reinvesting myself inmy discarded clothing, I mounted my horse to leave the field, when whoshould gallop up and extend sympathy and congratulations but Miss Jeanand my old sweetheart. There was no avoiding them, and discourtesy tothe mistress of Las Palomas being out of the question, I greeted Estherwith an affected warmth and cordiality. As I released her hand I couldnot help noticing how she had saddened into a serious woman, while thegentleness in her voice condemned me for my attitude toward her. ButMiss Jean artfully gave us little time for embarrassment, inviting me toshow them the unconcluded programme. From contest to contest, we rodethe field until the sun went down, and the trials ended.It was my first tournament and nothing escaped my notice. There werefully one hundred and fifty women and girls, and possibly double thatnumber of men, old and young, every one mounted and galloping from onepoint of the field to another. Blushing maidens and their swains droppedout of the throng, and from shady vantage points watched the crowdsurge back and forth across the field of action. We were sorry to missEnrique's roping; for having snapped his saddle horn with the firstcast, he recovered his rope, fastened it to the fork of his saddletree,and tied his steer in fifty-four seconds, or within ten of the winner'srecord. When he apologized to Miss Jean for his bad luck, hat in handand his eyes as big as saucers, one would have supposed he had broughtlasting disgrace on Las Palomas.We were more fortunate in witnessing Pasquale's riding. For this contestoutlaws and spoilt horses had been collected from every quarter. Ridersdrew their mounts by lot, and Pasquale drew a cinnamon-colored coyotefrom the ranch of "Uncle Nate" Wilson of Ramirena. Uncle Nate wasfeeling in fine fettle, and when he learned that his contribution tothe outlaw horses had been drawn by a Las Palomas man, he hunted up theranchero. "I'll bet you a new five-dollar hat that that cinnamon horsethrows your vaquero so high that the birds build nests in his crotchbefore he hits the ground." Uncle Lance took the bet, and disdainfullyran his eye up and down his old friend, finally remarking, "Nate, youought to keep perfectly sober on an occasion like this--you're liable tolose all your money."Pasquale was a shallow-brained, clownish fellow, and after saddlingup, as he led the coyote into the open to mount, he imitated a drunkenvaquero. Tipsily admonishing the horse in Spanish to behave himself, hevaulted into the saddle and clouted his mount over the head with hishat. The coyote resorted to every ruse known to a bucking horse tounseat his rider, in the midst of which Pasquale, languidly lollingin his saddle, took a small bottle from his pocket, and, drinking itscontents, tossed it backward over his head. "Look at that, Nate," saidUncle Lance, slapping Mr. Wilson with his hat; "that's one of the LasPalomas vaqueros, bred with just sense enough to ride anything thatwears hair. We'll look at those new hats this evening."In the fancy riding which followed, Pasquale did a number of stunts.He picked up hat and handkerchief from the ground at full speed, andlikewise gathered up silver dollars from alternate sides of his horseas the animal sped over a short course. Stripping off his saddle andbridle, he rode the naked horse with the grace of an Indian, and butfor his clownish indifference and the apparent ease with which he didthings, the judges might have taken his work more seriously. As itwas, our outfit and those friendly to our ranch were proud of hisperformance, but among outsiders, and even the judges, it was generallybelieved that he was tipsy, which was an injustice to him.On the conclusion of the contest with the lance, among the thirtyparticipants, four were tied on honors, one of whom was Theodore Quayle.The other contests being over, the crowd gathered round the lancingcourse, excitement being at its highest pitch. A lad from the Blanco wasthe first called for on the finals, and after three efforts failed tomake good his former trial. Quayle was the next called, and as he speddown the course my heart stood still for a moment; but as he returned,holding high his lance, five rings were impaled upon it. He was entitledto two more trials, but rested on his record until it was tied orbeaten, and the next man was called. Forcing her way through the crowdedfield, Miss Jean warmly congratulated Theodore, leaving Esther to mytender care. But at this juncture, my old sweetheart caught sight ofFrances Vaux and some gallant approaching from the river's shade, andtogether we galloped out to meet them. Miss Vaux's escort was a neighborlad from the Frio, but both he and I for the time being were relegatedto oblivion, in the prospects of a Las Palomas man by the name of Quaylewinning the lancing contest. Miss Frances, with a shrug, was for denyingall interest in the result, but Esther and I doubled on her, forcing herto admit "that it would be real nice if Teddy should win." I never wasso aggravated over the indifference of a girl in my life, and my regardfor my former sweetheart, on account of her enthusiasm for a Las Palomaslad, kindled anew within me.But as the third man sped over the course, we hastily returned to watchthe final results. After a last trial the man threw down his lance, and,riding up, congratulated Quayle. The last contestant was a red-headedfellow from the Atascosa above Oakville, and seemed to have a host offriends. On his first trial over the course, he stripped four rings, buton neither subsequent effort did he equal his first attempt. Imitatingthe former contestant, the red-headed fellow broke his lance andcongratulated the winner.The tourney was over. Esther and I urged Miss Frances to ride over withus and congratulate Quayle. She demurred; but as the crowd scattered Icaught Theodore's eye and, signaling to him, he rode out of the crowdand joined us. The compliments of Miss Vaux to the winner were insipidand lifeless, while Esther, as if to atone for her friend's lack ofinterest, beamed with happiness over Quayle's good luck. Poor Teddyhardly knew which way to turn, and, nice girl as she was, I almost hatedMiss Frances for her indifferent attitude. A plain, blunt fellow thoughhe was, Quayle had noticed the coolness in the greeting of the younglady whom he no doubt had had in mind for months, in case he should winthe privilege, to crown as Queen of the ball. Piqued and unsettled inhis mind, he excused himself on some trivial pretense and withdrew.Every one was scattering to the picnic grounds for supper, and under thepretense of escorting Esther to the Vaux conveyance, I accompanied theyoung ladies. Managing to fall to the rear of Miss Frances and hergallant for the day, I bluntly asked my old sweetheart if she understoodthe attitude of her friend. For reply she gave me a pitying glance,saying, "Oh, you boys know so little about a girl! You see that Teddychooses Frances for his Queen to-night, and leave the rest to me."On reaching their picnic camp, I excused myself, promising to meet themlater at the dance, and rode for our ambulance. Tiburcio had supper allready, and after it was over I called Theodore to one side and repeatedEsther's message. Quayle was still doubtful, and I called Miss Jean tomy assistance, hoping to convince him that Miss Vaux was not unfriendlytowards him. "You always want to judge a woman by contraries," said MissJean, seating herself on the log beside us. "When it comes to acting herpart, always depend on a girl to conceal her true feelings, especiallyif she has tact. Now, from what you boys say, my judgment is that she'dcry her eyes out if any other girl was chosen Queen."Uncle Lance had promised Mr. Wilson to take supper with his family, andas we were all sprucing up for the dance, he returned. He had not beenpresent at the finals of the lancing contest, but from guests of theWilsons' had learned that one of his boys had won the honors. So onriding into camp, as the finishing touches were being added to ourrustic toilets, he accosted Quayle and said: "Well, Theo, they tell methat you won the elephant. Great Scott, boy, that's the best luck thathas struck Las Palomas since the big rain a year ago this month! Ofcourse, we all understand that you're to choose the oldest Vaux girl.What's that? You don't know? Well, I do. I've had that all planned out,in case you won, ever since we decided that you was to contest as therepresentative of Las Palomas. And now you want to balk, do you?"Uncle Lance was showing some spirit, but his sister checked him withthis explanation: "Just because Miss Frances didn't show any enthusiasmover Theo winning, he and Tom somehow have got the idea in their mindsthat she don't care a rap to be chosen Queen. I've tried to explain itto them, but the boys don't understand girls, that's all. Why, if Theowas to choose any other girl, she'd set the river afire.""That's it, is it?" snorted Uncle Lance, pulling his gray mustaches."Well, I've known for some time that Tom didn't have good sense, but Ihave always given you, Theo, credit for having a little. I'll gamble myall that what Jean says is Bible truth. Didn't I have my eye on you andthat girl for nearly a week during the hunt a year ago, and haven't youbeen riding my horses over to the Frio once or twice a month ever since?You can read a brand as far as I can, but I can see that you're as blindas a bat about a girl. Now, young fellow, listen to me: when the masterof ceremonies announces the winners of the day, and your name is called,throw out your brisket, stand straight on those bow-legs of yours, stepforward and claim your privilege. When the wreath is tendered you,accept it, carry it to the lady of your choice, and kneeling before her,if she bids you arise, place the crown on her brow and lead the grandmarch. I'd gladly give Las Palomas and every hoof on it for your yearsand chance."The festivities began with falling darkness. The master of ceremonies,a school teacher from Oakville, read out the successful contestants andthe prizes to which they were entitled. The name of Theodore Quayle wasthe last to be called, and excusing himself to Miss Jean, who had him intow, he walked forward with a military air, executing every movement inthe ceremony like an actor. As the music struck up, he and the blushingFrances Vaux, rare in rustic beauty and crowned with a wreath oflive-oak leaves, led the opening march. Hundreds of hands clapped inapproval, and as the applause quieted down, I turned to look for apartner, only to meet Miss Jean and my former sweetheart. Both were in aseventh heaven of delight, and promptly took occasion to remind me ofmy lack of foresight, repeating in chorus, "Didn't I tell you?" But themusic had broken into a waltz, which precluded any argument, and onthe mistress remarking "You young folks are missing a fine dance,"involuntarily my arm encircled my old sweetheart, and we drifted awayinto elysian fields.The night after the first tournament at Shepherd's on the Nueces inJune, '77, lingers as a pleasant memory. Veiled in hazy retrospect,attempting to recall it is like inviting the return of childish dreamswhen one has reached the years of maturity. If I danced that night withany other girl than poor Esther McLeod, the fact has certainly escapedme. But somewhere in the archives of memory there is an indeliblepicture of a stroll through dimly lighted picnic grounds; of sitting ona rustic settee, built round the base of a patriarchal live-oak, andlistening to a broken-hearted woman lay bare the sorrows which less thana year had brought her. I distinctly recall that my eyes, though unusedto weeping, filled with tears, when Esther in words of deepest sorrowand contrition begged me to forgive her heedless and reckless act. CouldI harbor resentment in the face of such entreaty? The impulsiveness ofyouth refused to believe that true happiness had gone out of her life.She was again to me as she had been before her unfortunate marriage, andmust be released from the hateful bonds that bound her. Firm in thisresolve, dawn stole upon us, still sitting at the root of the old oak,oblivious and happy in each other's presence, having pledged anew ourtroth for time and eternity.With the breaking of day the revelers dispersed. Quite a largecontingent from those present rode several miles up the river with ourparty. The remuda had been sent home the evening before with thereturning vaqueros, while the impatience of the ambulance mulesfrequently carried them in advance of the cavalcade. The mistress of LasPalomas had as her guest returning, Miss Jule Wilson, and the first timethey passed us, some four or five miles above the ferry, I noticed UncleLance ride up, swaggering in his saddle, and poke Glenn Gallup in theribs, with a wink and nod towards the conveyance as the mules dashedpast. The pace we were traveling would carry us home by the middleof the forenoon, and once we were reduced to the home crowd, the oldmatchmaker broke out enthusiastically:--"This tourney was what I call a success. I don't care a tinker's darnfor the prizes, but the way you boys built up to the girls last nightwarmed the sluggish blood in my old veins. Even if Cotton did claim adance or two with the oldest Vaux girl, if Theo and her don't make theriffle now--well, they simply can't help it, having gone so far. And didany of you notice Scales and old June and Dan cutting the pigeon winglike colts? I reckon Quirk will have to make some new resolutions thismorning. Oh, I heard about your declaring that you never wanted to seeEsther McLeod again. That's all right, son, but hereafter remember thata resolve about a woman is only good for the day it is made, or untilyou meet her. And notice, will you, ahead yonder, that sister of mineplaying second fiddle as a matchmaker. Glenn, if I was you, the nexttime Miss Jule looks back this way, I'd play sick, and maybe they'd letyou ride in the ambulance. I can see at a glance that she's being poorlyentertained."