Alec Lloyd, Cowpuncher Read online

  Produced by Roger Frank and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.fadedpage.net

  "_And you can chalk down forty votes fer Miss MacieSewell_" (See p. 64)]

  ALEC LLOYD

  COWPUNCHER

  Originally published under the title of

  CUPID: THE COWPUNCH

  BY

  ELEANOR GATES

  AUTHOR OF THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL, THE PLOW WOMAN, Etc.

  ILLUSTRATIONS BY ALLEN TRUE

  NEW YORK

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  PUBLISHERS

  Copyright, 1907, by The McClure Company

  Published, November, 1907

  Copyright, 1905, 1906, 1907 by The Curtis Publishing Company

  Copyright, 1906, 1907, by International Magazine Company

  CONTENTS

  Chapter Page I. ROSE ANDREWS'S HAND AND DOCTOR BUGS'S GASOLINE BRONC 3 II. A THIRST-PARLOUR MIX-UP GIVES ME A NEW DEAL 31 III. THE PRETTIEST GAL AND THE HOMELIEST MAN 52 IV. CONCERNIN' THE SHERIFF AND ANOTHER LITTLE WIDDA 85 V. THINGS GIT STARTED WRONG 132 VI. WHAT A LUNGER DONE 157 VII. THE BOYS PUT THEY FOOT IN IT 169 VIII. ANOTHER SCHEME, AND HOW IT PANNED OUT 195 IX. A ROUND-UP IN CENTRAL PARK 234 X. MACIE AND THE OP'RA GAME 260 XI. A BOOM THAT BUSTED 276 XII. AND A BOOM AT BRIGGS 300

  CHAPTER ONE

  ROSE ANDREWS'S HAND AND DOCTOR BUGS'S GASOLINE BRONC

  "Sweet is the vale where the Mohawk gently glides On its fair, windin' way to the sea; And dearer by f-a-a-ar----"

  "Now, look a-here, Alec Lloyd," broke in Hairoil Johnson, throwin'up one hand like as if to defend hisself, and givin' me a kinda scairtlook, "you shut you' bazoo right this minute--and git! Whenever youbegin singin' that song, I know you're a-figgerin' on how to marrysomebody off to somebody else. And I just won't have you _around!_"

  We was a-settin' t'gether on the track side of the deepot platform atBriggs City, him a-holdin' down one end of a truck, and me the other.The mesquite lay in front of us, and it was all a sorta greenish brownaccount of the pretty fair rain we'd been havin'. They's miles of it,y' savvy, runnin' so far out towards the west line of Oklahomaw thatit plumb slices the sky. Through it, north and south, the telegraphpoles go straddlin'--in the _di_rection of Kansas City on the righthand, and off past Rogers's Butte to Albuquerque on the left. Behindus was little ole Briggs, with its one street of square-front buildin'sfacin' the railroad, and a scatterin' of shacks and dugouts andcorrals and tin-can piles in behind.

  Little ole Briggs! Sometimes, you bet you' life, I been pretty down onmy luck in Briggs, and sometimes I been turrible happy; also, I been justso-so. But, no matter how things pan out, darned if I cain't allus saytruthful that she just about suits me--that ornery, little, jerkwatertown!

  The par_ti_cular day I'm a-speakin' of was a jo-dandy--just cool enoughto make you want t' keep you' back aimed right up at the sun, andwithout no more breeze than 'd help along a butterfly. Then, the airwas all nice and perfumey, like them advertisin' picture cards you gitat a drugstore. So, bein' as I was enjoyin' myself, and a-studyin'out somethin' as I hummed that was _mighty_ important, why, I didn'twant t' mosey, no, ma'am.

  But Hairoil was mad. I knowed it fer the reason that he'd called meAlec 'stead of Cupid. Y' see, all the boys call me Cupid. And I ain'tashamed of it, neither. _Some_body's got t' help out when it's a caseof two lovin' souls that's bein' kept apart.

  "Now, pardner," I answers him, as coaxin' as I could, "don't you goholler 'fore you're hit. It happens that I ain't a-figgerin' on nohitch-up plans fer _you._"

  Hairoil, he stood up--quick, so that I come nigh fallin' offen my end ofthe truck. "But you are fer some _other_ pore cuss," he says. "Youas good as owned up."

  "Yas," I answers, "I are. But the gent in question wouldn't want youshould worry about _him_. All that's a-keepin' _him_ anxious is thatmebbe he won't git his gal."

  "Alec," Hairoil goes on,--turrible solemn, he was--"I have _de_cidedthat this town has had just about it's fill of this Cupid business ofyourn--and I'm a-goin' t' stop it."

  I snickered. "Y' are?" I ast. "Wal, how?"

  "By marryin' you off. When you're hitched up you'self, you won'tbe so all-fired anxious t' git other pore fellers into the traces."

  "That good news," I says. "Who's the for-tu_nate_ gal you've pickedfer me?"

  "Never you mind," answers Hairoil. "She's a new gal, and she'll bealong next week."

  "Is she pretty?"

  "Is she pretty! Say! Pretty ain't no name fer it! She's got big greyeyes, with long, black, sassy winkers, and brown hair that's all kindacurly over the ears. Then her cheeks is pink, and she's got the cutestmouth a man 'most ever seen."

  Wal, a-course, I thought he was foolin'. (And mebbe he was--_then_.)A gal like that fer me!--a fine, pretty gal fer such a knock-kneed,slab-sided son-of-a-gun as me? I just couldn't swaller _that_.

  But, aw! if I only had 'a' knowed how that idear of hisn was a-goin't' grow!--that idear of him turnin' Cupid fer _me,_ y' savvy. Andif only I'd 'a' knowed what a turrible bust-up he'd fin'lly be_re_sponsible fer 'twixt me and the same grey-eyed, sassy-winkeredgal! If I had, it's a cinch I'd 'a' sit on him _hard_--right thenand there.

  I didn't, though. I switched back on to what was a-puzzlin' anda-worryin' me. "Billy Trowbridge," I begun, "has waited too longa'ready fer Rose Andrews. And if things don't come to a haid rightsoon, he'll lose her."

  Hairoil give a kinda jump. "The Widda Andrews," he says, "--ZachSewell's gal? So you're a-plannin' t' interfere in the doin's of oleman Sewell's fambly."

  "Yas."

  He reached fer my hand and squz it, and pretended t' git mournful, likeas if he wasn't never goin' t' see me again. "My _pore_ friend!"he says.

  "Wal, what's eatin' you now?" I ast.

  "Nothin'--only that pretty gal I tole you about, she's----"

  Then he stopped short.

  "She's what?"

  He let go of my hand, shrug his shoulders, and started off. "Nevermind," he called back. "Let it drop. We'll just see. Mebbe, afterall, you'll git the very lesson you oughta have. Ole man Sewell!" And,shakin' his haid, he turned the corner of the deepot.

  Wal, who was Sewell anyhow?--no better'n any other man. I'd knowedhim since 'fore the Oklahomaw Rushes, and long 'fore he's wired-uphalf this end of the Terrytory. And I'd knowed his oldest gal, Rose,since she was knee-high to a hop-toad. Daisy gal, she allus was, bythunder! And mighty sweet. Wal, when, after tyin' up t' that blamedfool Andrews, she'd got her matreemonal hobbles off in less'n sixmonths--owin' t' Monkey Mike bein' a little sooner in the triggerfinger--why, d'you think I was a-goin' to stand by and see a tin-hornproposition like that Noo York Simpson put a vent brand on her? _Nixey!_

  It was ole man Sewell that bossed the first job and cut out Andrewsfer Rose's pardner. Sewell's that breed, y' know, hard-mouthed as amule, and if he cain't run things, why, he'll take a duck-fit. Buthe shore put his foot in it _that_ time. Andrews was as low-down andsneakin' as a coy_o_te, allus gittin' other folks into a fuss if hecould, but stayin' outen range hisself. The little gal didn't have noeasy go with him--we all knowed _that,_ and she wasn't happy. Wal,Mike easied the sittywaytion. He took a gun with a' extra long carryand put a lead pill where it'd do the most good; and the hull passelof us was plumb tickled, that's all, just plumb tickled--even t' thesheriff.

  I said pill just now. Funny how I just fall
into the habit of usin'doctor words when I come to talk of this par_tic_ular mix-up. That's'cause Simpson, the tin-horn gent I mentioned, is a doc. And so'sBilly Trowbridge--Billy Trowbridge is the best medicine-man we ever hadin these parts, if he _did_ git all his learnin' right here from hispaw. He ain't got the spondulix, and so he ain't what you'd call tony.But he's got his doctor certifi_cate,_ O. K., and when it comes t'curin', he can give cards and spades to _any_ of you' highfalutin'college gezabas, and _then_ beat 'em out by a mile. That's _straight!_

  Billy, he'd allus liked Rose. And Rose'd allus liked Billy. Wal, afterAndrews's s-a-d endin', you bet I made up my mind that Billy'd beole man Sewell's next son-in-law. Billy was smart as the dickens, andyoung, and no drunk. He hadn't never wore no hard hat, neither, 'rroached his mane pompydory, and he was one of the kind that takes a runat they fingernails oncet in a while. Now, mebbe a puncher 'r a redain't par-_tic_ular about his hands; but a _pro_feshnal gent's _got_ tobe. And with a nice gal like Rose, it shore do stack up.

  But it didn't stand the chanst of a snow-man in Yuma when it come toole man Sewell. Doc Simpson was new in town, and Sewell'd ast him outto supper at the Bar Y ranch-house two 'r three times. And he was cleanstuck on him. To hear the ole man talk, Simpson was the cutest thingthat'd ever come into the mesquite. And Billy? Wal, he was the bad manfrom Bodie.

  Say! but all of us punchers was sore when we seen how Sewell washaided!--not just the ole man's outfit at the Bar Y, y' savvy, butthe bunch of us at the Diamond O. None of us liked Simpson a _little_bit. He wore fine clothes, and a dicer, and when it come to soothin'the ladies and holdin' paws, he was there with both hoofs. Then, hehad all kinds of fool jiggers fer his business, and one of them tootsurreys that's got ingine haidlights and two seats all stuffed withgoose feathers and covered with leather--reg'lar Standard Sleeper.

  It was that gasoline rig that done Billy damage, speakin' financial.The minute folks knowed it was in Briggs City, why they got a miserysomewheres about 'em quick--just to have it come and stand out infront, smellin' as all-fired nasty as a' Injun, but lookin' turriblestylish. The men was bad enough about it, and when they had one of DocSimpson's drenches they haids was as big as Bill Williams's Mountain.But the women! The _hull_ cavvieyard of 'em, exceptin' Rose, stampededover to him. And Billy got such a snow-under that they had him a-diggin'fer his grass.

  I was plumb crazy about it. "Billy," I says one day, when I met hima-comin' from 'Pache Sam's hogan on his bi_cy_cle; "Billy, you gotto do somethin'." (Course, I didn't mention Rose.) "You goin' tolet any sawed-off, hammered-down runt like that Simpson drive you out?Why, it's free grazin' here!"

  Billy, he smiled kinda wistful and begun to brush the alkali offen thatole Stetson of hisn, turnin' it 'round and 'round like he was worried."Aw, never mind, Cupid," he says; "--just keep on you' shirt."

  But pretty soon things got a darned sight worse, and I couldn't hardlyhole in. Not satisfied with havin' the hull country on his trail accountof that surrey, Simpson tried a _new_ deal: He got to discoverin' bugs!

  He found out that Bill Rawson had malaria bugs, and the Kelly kidhad diphtheria bugs, and Dutchy had typhoid bugs that didn't dobusiness owin' to the alcohol in his system. (_Too_ bad!) Why, it wasastonishin' how many kinds of newfangled critters we'd never heard ofwas a-livin' in this Terrytory!

  But all his bugs didn't split no shakes with _Rose_. She was _po_liteto Simpson, and friendly, but nothin' worse. And it was plainer 'n thenose on you' face that Billy was solid with her. But the ole man isthe hull show in that fambly, y' savvy; and all us fellers could do wasto hope like sixty that nothin' 'd happen to give Simpson a' extrachanst. But, crimini! Somethin' _did_ happen: Rose's baby got sick.Wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, kinda whined all the time, like a sickpurp, and begun to look peaked--pore little kid!

  I was out at the Bar Y that same day, and when the news got over to thebunk-house, we was all turrible _ex_cited. "Which'll the ole man sendafter," we says, "--Simpson 'r Billy?"

  It was that bug-doctor!

  He come down the road two-forty, settin' up as stiff as if he had aramrod in his backbone. I just happened over towards the house as heturned in at the gate. He staked out his surrey clost to the porch andstepped down. My! such nice little button shoes!

  "Aw, maw!" says Monkey Mike; "he's too rich fer _my_ blood!"

  The ole man come out to say howdy. When Simpson seen him, he says,"Mister Sewell, they's some hens 'round here, and I don't want 'emto hop into my machine whilst I'm in the house." Then, he looks atme. "Can you' hired man keep 'em shooed?" he says.

  Hired man! I took a jump his _di_rection that come nigh to splittin' myboots. "Back up, m' son," I says, reachin' to my britches pocket."_I_ ain't no hired man."

  Sewell, he puts in quick. "No, no, Doc," he says; "this man's oneof the Diamond O cow-boys. Fer heaven's sake, Cupid! You're gittin'to be as touchy as a cook!"

  Simpson, he apologised, and I let her pass f er _that_ time. But,a-course, far's him and _me_ was _con_cerned--wal, just wait. As I say,he goes in,--the ole man follerin'--leavin' that gasoline rig snortin'and sullin' and lookin' as if it was just achin' t' take a run at thebunk-house and bust it wide open. I goes in, too,--just t' see the fun.

  There was that Simpson examinin' the baby, and Rose standin' by,lookin' awful scairt. He had a rain-gauge in his hand, and wasa-squintin' at it important. "High temper'ture," he says; "'way upto hunderd and four." Then he jabbed a spoon jigger into her porelittle mouth. Then he made X brands acrosst her soft little back with hisfingers. Then he turned her plumb over and begun to tunk her like shewas a melon. And when he'd knocked the wind outen her, he _pro_-duceda bi_cy_cle pump, stuck it agin her chest, and put his ear to theother end. "Lungs all right," he says; "heart all right. Mustbe----" Course, _you_ know--bugs!

  "But--but, couldn't it be teeth?" ast Rose.

  Simpson grinned like she was a' idjit, and he was sorry as the dickensfer her. "Aw, a baby ain't _all_ teeth," he says.

  Wal, he left some truck 'r other. Then he goes out, gits into hisPullman section, blows his punkin whistle and _de_parts.

  Next day, same thing. Temper'ture's still up. Medicine cain't be keptdown. Case turrible puzzlin'. Makes all kinds of guesses. Leaves somehoss liniment. Toot! toot!

  Day after, changes the pro_gram_. Sticks a needle into the kid and gitsfirst blood. Says somethin' about "Modern scientific idears," andtracks back t' town.

  Things run along that-a-way fer a week. Baby got sicker and sicker. Rosegot whiter and whiter, and thinned till she was about as hefty as ashadda. Even the ole man begun t' look kinda pale 'round the gills.But Simpson didn't miss a trick. And he come t' the ranch-house sodarned many times that his buckboard plumb oiled down the pike.

  "Rose," I says oncet to her, when I stopped by, "cain't we give BillyTrowbridge a chanst? That Simpson doc ain't worth a hill of beans."

  Rose didn't say nothin'. She just turned and lent over the kid. Geewhiz! I hate t' see a woman cry!

  'Way early, next day, the kid had a _con_vul-sion, and ev'rybody wasshore she was goin' to kick the bucket. And whilst a bunch of us wasa-hangin' 'round the porch, pretty nigh luny about the pore littleson-of-a-gun, Bill Rawson come--and he had a story that plumb took thelast kink outen us.

  I hunts up the boss. "Mister Sewell," I says, by way of beginnin',"I'm feard we're goin' to lose the baby. Simpson ain't doin' much,seems like. What y' say if I ride in fer Doc Trowbridge?"

  "Trowbridge?" he says disgusted. "_No,_ ma'am! Simpson'll be herein a jiffy!"

  "I reckon Simpson'll be late," I says. "Bill Rawson seen him goin'towards Goldstone just now in his thrashin'-machine with a feemalesettin' byside him. Bill says she was wearin' one of them fancycollar-box hats, with a duck-wing hitched on to it, and her hair wasall mussy over her eyes--like a cow with a board on its horns--andshe had enough powder on her face t' make a biscuit."

  The ole man begun t' chaw and spit like a bob-cat. "I ain't astin'Bill's _ad_vice," he says. "When I want it, I'll let
him know. IfSimpson's busy over t' Goldstone, we got to wait on him, that's all.But Trowbridge? Not _no_-ways!"

  I seen then that it was time somebody mixed in. I got onto my pinto broncand loped fer town. But all the way I couldn't think what t' do. So Ileft Maud standin' outside of Dutchy's, and went over and sit downnext Hairoil on the truck. And that's where I was--a-hummin' to myselfand a-workin' my haid--when he give me that rakin' over about playin'Cupid, and warned me agin monkeyin' with ole man Sewell.

  Wal, when Hairoil up and left me, I kept right on a-studyin'. I knowed,a-course, that I could go kick up a fuss when Simpson stopped by hisoffice on his trip back from Goldstone. But that didn't seem such a'awful good plan. Also, I could----

  Just then, I heerd my cow-pony kinda whinny. I glanced over towardsher. She was standin' right where I'd left her, lines on the ground,eyes peeled my way. And _such_ a look as she was a-givin' me!--likeshe knowed what I was a-worryin' about and was surprised I was so blamedthick.

  I jumped up and run over to her. "Maud," I says, "you got more savvy'n any horse I know, bar _none_. _Danged if we don't do it!_"

  First off, I sent word t' Billy that he was to show up at the Sewellranch-house about four o'clock. And when three come, me and Maud wason the Bar Y road where it goes acrosst that crick-bottom. She wasmoseyin' along, savin' herself, and I was settin' sideways like areal lady so's I could keep a' eye towards town. Pretty soon, 'wayback down the road, 'twixt the barb-wire fences, I seen a cloud ofdust a-travellin'--a-travellin' so fast they couldn't be no mistake.And in about a minute, the signs was complete--I heerd a toot. I putmy laig over then.

  Here he come, that Simpson in his smelly Pullman, takin' the grade likegreased lightin'. "Now, Maud!" I whispers to the bronc. And, puttin'my spurs into her, I begun t' whip-saw from one fence to the other.

  He slowed up and blowed his whistle.

  I hoed her down harder'n ever.

  "You're a-skeerin' my hoss," I yells back.

  "Pull t' one side," he answers. "I want to git by."

  But Maud wouldn't pull. And everywheres Simpson was, she was just infront, actin' as if she was scairt plumb outen her seven senses. Theworse she acted, a-course, the madder _I_ got! Fin'lly, just as MisterDoc was managin' to pass, I got _turrible_ mad, and, cussin' blueblazes, I took out my forty-five and let her fly.

  One of them hind tires popped like the evenin' gun at Fort Wingate. Sameminute, that hidebound rig-a-ma-jig took a shy and come nigh buttin' herfool nose agin a fence-post. But Simpson, he geed her quick and startedon. I put a hole in the other hind tire. She shied again--opp'site_di_rection--snortin' like she was wind-broke. He hawed her back.Then he went a-kitin' on, leavin' me a-eatin' his dust.

  But I wasn't _done_ with him, no, ma'am.

  Right there the road make a kinda horse-shoe turn--like this, y'savvy--to git 'round a fence corner. I'd cal'lated on that. I justgive Maud a lick 'longside the haid, jumped her over the fence, quirtedher a-flyin' acrosst that bend, took the other fence, and landed abouta hunderd feet in front of him.

  When he seen me through his goggles, he come on full-steam. I set Mauda-runnin' the same _di_rection--and took up my little rope.

  About two shakes of a lamb's tail, and it happened. He got nose and nosewith me. I throwed, ketchin' him low--'round his chest and arms. Maudcome short.

  Say! talk about you' _flyin'_-machines! Simpson let go his holt andtook to the air, sailin' up right easy fer a spell, flappin' his wingsall the time; then, doublin' back somethin' amazin', and fin'llycomin' down t' light.

  And that gasoline bronc of hisn--minute she got the bit, she actedplumb loco. She shassayed sideways fer a rod, buckin' at ev'ry jump.Pretty soon, they was a turn, but she didn't see it. She left theroad and run agin the fence, cuttin' the wires as clean in two as apliers-man. Then, outen pure cussedness, seems like, she made towards acottonwood, riz up on her hind laigs, clumb it a ways, knocked herwind out, pitched oncet 'r twicet, tumbled over on to her quarters, andbegun t' kick up her heels.

  "_He lay the kid lookin' up and put his finger intoher mouth_"]

  I looked at Simpson. He'd been settin' on the ground; but now he gitsup, pullin' at the rope gentle, like a lazy sucker. Say! but his facewas ornamented!

  I give him a nod. "Wal, Young-Man-That-Flies-Like-A-Bird?" I says,inquirin'.

  He began to paw up the road like a mad bull. "I'll make you pay ferthis!" he bellered.

  "You cain't git blood outen a turnip," I answers, sweet as sugar; andMaud backed a step 'r two, so's the rope wouldn't slack.

  "How _dast_ you do such a' in_fame_ous thing!" he goes on.

  "You gasoline gents got t' have a lesson," I answers; "you let thestuff go t' you' haids. Why, a _hired man_ ain't got a chanst fer hislife when you happen t' be travellin'."

  He begun t' wiggle his arms. "You lemme go," he says.

  "Go where?" I ast.

  "T' my machine."

  I looked over at her. She was quiet now, but sweatin' oil somethin'awful. "How long'll it take you t' git her on to her laigs?" I ast.

  "She's ruined!" he says, like he was goin' to bawl. "And I meantt' go down to Goldstone t'night."

  "That duck-wing lady'll have t' wait fer the train," I says. "Butnever mind. I'll tell Rose Andrews you got the _en_gagement." ThenMaud slacked the rope and I rode up t' him, so's to let him loose. "Solong," I says.

  "I ain't done with you!" he answers, gittin' purple; "I ain't donewith you!"

  "Wal, you know where I live," I says, and loped off, hummin' the tunethe ole cow died on.

  When I rid up to the Bar Y ranch-house, here was Billy, gittin' offenthat little bi_cy_cle of hisn.

  "Cupid," he says, and he was whiter'n chalk-rock, "is the baby worse?And Rose----"

  I pulled him up on to the porch. "Now's you' chanst, Billy," Ianswers. "_Do you' darnedest!_"

  Rose opened the door, and her face was as white as hisn. "Aw, Billy!"was all she says.

  Then up come that ole fool paw of hern, totin' the kid. "What'sthis?" he ast, mad as a hornet. "And where's Doc Simpson?"

  It was me that spoke. "Doc Simpson's had a turrible accident," Ianswers. "His gasoline plug got to misbehavin' down the road a piece,and plumb tore her insides out. He got awful shook up, and couldn'tcome no further, so--knowin' the baby was so sick--I went fer Bill."

  "Bill!" says the ole man, disgusted. "_Thun-deration!_"

  But Billy had his tools out a'ready and was a-reachin' fer the kid.Sewell let him have her--cussin' like a mule-skinner.

  "That's right," he says to Rose; "that's right,--let him massacreeher!"

  Rose didn't take no notice. "Aw, Billy!" she kept sayin', and "Aw,baby!"

  Billy got to doin' things. He picked somethin' shiny outen his kit andslipped it into a pocket. Next, he lay the kid lookin' up and put hisfinger into her mouth.

  "See here," he says to me.

  I peeked in where he pointed and seen a reg'lar little hawg-back of gum,red on the two slopes, but whitish in four spots along the ridge, likethey'd been a snowfall. Billy grinned, took out that shiny instrument,and give each of them pore little gum buttes the double cross--zip-_zip,_zip-_zip,_ zip-_zip,_ zip-_zip_. And, jumpin' buffaloes! _out popsfour of the prettiest teeth a man ever seen!_

  Bugs?--rats!

  "Now, a little Bella Donnie," says Bill, "and the baby'll be O. K."

  "O. K.!" says Rose. "Aw, Billy!" And _such_ a kissin'!--the baby,a-_course_.

  Ole man Sewell stopped swearin' a minute. "What's the matter?" he ast.

  "Teeth," says Billy.

  Think of that! Why, the trouble was so clost to Simpson that if it'dbeen a rattler, it'd 'a' bit him!

  "_Teeth!_" says the ole man, like he didn't believe it.

  "Come look," says Billy.

  Sewell, he walked over to the baby and stooped down. Then all of asuddent, I seen his jaw go open, and his eyes stick out so far youcould 'a' knocked 'em off with a stick. Then, he got red as a turkeygobbler--and let out a reg'lar war-whoop.<
br />
  "_Look_ at 'em!" he yelped. "Rose! Rose!--_look_ at 'em! Four allto oncet!" And he give the doc such a wallop on the back that it comenigh to knockin' him down.

  "I know," I says sarcastic, "but, shucks! a baby ain't _all_ teeth.This is a mighty puzzlin' case, and Simpson----"

  "Close you' fly-trap," says the ole man, "and look at them teeth!Four of a kind--can y' beat it?"

  "Wa-a-al," I says, sniffin', "they's so, so, I reckon, but anykid----"

  "_Any_ kid!" yells the ole man, plumb aggervated. And he was justturnin' round to give _me_ one when--in limps Simpson!

  "Mister Sewell," he says, "I come to make a complaint"--he shook hisfist at me--"agin this here ruffian. He----"

  "Wow!" roars Sewell. "Don't you trouble to make no complaints in_this_ house. Here you been a-treatin' this baby fer bugs when it wasjust teeth. Say! you ain't got sense enough to come in when it rains!"

  That plumb rattled Simpson. He was gittin' a _re_ception he didn'treckon on. But he tried t' keep up his game.

  "This cow-boy here is _re_sponsible fer damages to my auto," he says."The dashboard's smashed into matches, the tumblin'-rods is broke,the spark-condenser's kaflummuxed, and the hull blamed business isskew-gee. This man was actin' in you' behalf, and if he don't pay,I'll sue _you._"

  "Sue?" says Sewell; "_sue?_ You go guess again! You send in you'bill, that's what _you_ do. You ain't earned nothin'--but, by jingo,it's worth money just to git shet of such a dog-goned shyster as you._Git._"

  And with that, out goes Mister Bugs.

  Then, grandpaw, he turns round to the baby again, plumb took up withthem four new nippers. "Cluck, cluck," he says like a chicken, andpokes the kid under the chin. Over one shoulder, he says to Billy, "And,Trowbridge, you can make out _you'_ bill, too."

  Billy didn't answer nothin'. Just went over to a table, pulled out apiece of paper and a pencil, and begun t' write. Pretty soon, he gotup and come back.

  "Here, Mister Sewell," he says.

  I was right byside the ole man, and--couldn't help it--I stretched toread what Billy'd writ. And this was what it was:

  "Mister Zach Sewell, debtor to W. A. Trowbridge, fer medical services--the hand of one Rose Andrews in marriage."

  Sewell, he read the paper over and over, turnin' all kinds of colours.And Silly and me come blamed nigh chokin' from holdin' our breaths.Rose was lookin' up at us, and at her paw, too, turrible anxious. As ferthat kid, it was a-kickin' its laigs into the air and gurglin' like abottle.

  Fin'lly, the ole man handed the paper back. "Doc," he says, "Rose ispast twenty-one, and not a' idjit. Also, the kid is hern. So, bein'this bill reads the way it does, mebbe you'd better hand it t' her.If she don't think it's too steep a figger----"

  Billy took the paper and give it over to Rose. When she read it, her facegot all blushy; and happy, too, I could see _that_.

  "_Rose!_" says Billy, holdin' out his two arms to her.

  I took a squint through the winda at the scenery--and heerd a sound likea cow pullin' its foot outen the mud.

  "Rose," goes on Billy, "I'll be as good as I know how to you."

  When I turned round again, here was ole man Sewell standin' in themiddle of the floor, lookin' back and forth from Rose and Billy tothe kid--like it'd just struck him that he was goin' t' lose his galand the baby and all them teeth. And if ever a man showed that he washelpless and jealous and plumb hurt, why, that was him. Next, here hewas a-gazin' at me with a queer shine in his eyes--almost savage. Andsay! it got me some nervous.

  "Seems Mister Cupid Lloyd is a-runnin' things 'round this hereranch-house," he begun slow, like he was holdin' in his mad.

  I--wal, I just kinda stood there, and swallered oncet 'r twicet, andtried t' grin. (Didn't know nothin' t' say, y' savvy, that'd belikely t' hit him just right.)

  "So Cupid's gone and done it again!" he goes on. "How accommodatin'!Haw!" And he give one of them short, sarcastic laughs.

  "Wal, just let me tell you," he _con_tinues, steppin' closter, "thatI, fer one, ain't got _no_ use fer a feller that's allus a-stickin' inhis lip."

  "Sewell," I says, "no feller _likes_ to--that's a cinch. But oncetin a while it's plumb needful."

  "It is, is it? And I s'pose _this_ is one of them cases. Wal, MisterCupid, all I can say is this: The feller that sticks in his lip _allusgits into trouble._"

  Sometimes, them words of hisn come back to me. Mebbe I'll be feelin'awful good-natured, and be a-laughin' and talkin'. Of a suddent, upthem words'll pop, and the way he said 'em, and all. And even ifit's right warm weather, why, I _shiver,_ yas, ma'am. _The fetterthat sticks in his lip allus gits into trouble_--nothin' was ever saidtruer'n that!

  "And," the ole man goes on again, a little bit hoarse by now, "I canfeel you' trouble a-comin'. So far, you been lucky. But it cain'tlast--it cain't last. You know what it says in the Bible? (Mebbe itain't in the Bible, but that don't matter.) It says, 'Give a fool arope and he'll hang hisself.' And one of these times you'll play Cupidjust oncet too many. What's more, the smarty that can allus bring otherfolks t'gether cain't never manage t' hitch hisself."

  I'd been keepin' still 'cause I didn't want they should be no hardfeelin's 'twixt us. But that last _re_mark of hisn kinda got my danderup.

  "Aw, I don't know," I answers; "when it comes my own time, I don'tfigger t' have much trouble."

  Wal, sir, the old man flew right up. His face got the colour ofsand-paper, and he brung his two hands t'gether clinched, so'sI thought he'd plumb crack the bones. "Haw!" (That laughagain--bitter'n gall.) "Mister Cupid Lloyd, _you just wait._" Andout he goes.

  "Cupid," says Billy, "I'm _turrible_ sorry. Seems, somehow, thatyou've got Sewell down on y' account of me----"

  "That's all right, Doc," I answers; "_I_ don't keer. It mocks nixoudt, as Dutchy 'd say." And I shook hands with him and Rose, andkissed the baby.

  It mocks nix oudt--that's what I said. Wal, how was I t' know then,that I'd made a' enemy of the _one_ man that, later on, I'd bewillin' t' give my _life_ t' please, almost?--_how_ was I t' know?