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Page 26
"Well, now when it comes to lookers, what's the matter with Polly
Hope?" exclaimed Sage-brush slyly.
Glances of admiration were cast at the girl, who was dressed
simply and plainly in a little white gown which Mrs. Allen had
made for her for the wedding. Polly's youth, good nature, and
ability to take care of herself made her a favorite on the ranch.
She had no need of defenders, but if an occasion should arise
that Polly required a knight, there were a score of guns at her
service at an hour's notice.
"Looks like a picture from a book," said Fresno, hoping to win
back the ground he had lost by Sage-brush's openly expressed
admiration.
Polly was flattered by the comments and the glances of the boys,
which expressed their approval of her appearance more loudly than
spoken words. She pretended, however, to be annoyed. "Go
'long," she said. "Where's Bud Lane? Didn't you give him his
invite?"
The boys turned from one to the other with feigned glances of
disgust at being slighted by Polly for an absent one. The
one-sided courtship of Bud and Polly was known up and down the
valley, and indefinite postponement of their wedding-day was one
of the jests of the two ranches.
"Oh, we sent it on to him at Florence. He'll git it in time, if
he ain't gone to the Lazy K with Buck McKee," said Sage-brush;
then, turning to the other cowboys, he added in an aggrieved
tone: "Polly ain't got no eyes for no one excep' Bud."
Polly stepped to Allen's side, and, laying her head on his
shoulder, said: "Ain't I?" Allen patted the girl's head. He
was very fond of her, looking upon her as another daughter.
Polly smiled back into his face, and then, with a glance at the
cowboys, said: "Say, Uncle Jim, there's some bottles to be
opened."
The invitation was an indirect one, but all knew what it meant,
and started for the house.
"Root-beer," added Polly mischievously; "the corks pull awful
hard."
Allen glanced at her in feigned alarm.
"What do you want to do--stampede the bunch?"
Before she could answer, the approach of a horse attracted the
attention of the group.
"There's Jack, now!" cried Sage-brush, in tones which plainly
showed his relief; "no, it ain't," he added reflectively, "he
rode his pacin' mare, and that's a trottin' horse."
The cry of the rider was heard quieting his mount. Allen
recognized the voice. "It's Slim Hoover," he cried.
Polly clapped her hands, and said mischievously to Sage-brush:
"Now you'll see me makin' goo-goo eyes to somebody besides Bud
Lane. I ain't a-going to be the only girl in Pinal County Slim
Hoover ain't set up to."
"An' shied off from," added Sage-brush, a little nettled by
Polly's overlooking him as a subject for flirtation. "But what's
Slim doin' over this way?"
"Come to Jack's weddin', of course," replied Polly, adding
complacently: "And probably projectin' a hitch-up of his own."
Slim ran around the corner of the house directly into the crowd,
who seized him before he could recover from his surprise, and
proceeded to haze him, to their intense delight and the Sheriff's
embarrassment, for he knew that Polly was somewhere near,
enjoying his discomfiture. Polly waited until her victim was
fully ready for her particular form of torture. The reception of
the cowboys was crude to her refined form of making the fat
Sheriff uncomfortable.
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