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Page 29
Sage-brush, at this point, announced decisively: "The bride has
got to be kissed."
Slim tried to break through the group and enter the house,
thinking that by making such a move he would divert their
attention, and that in the excitement of the wedding he could
avoid kissing the bride, an ordeal which to him was more terrible
than facing the worst gun-fighter in Arizona.
"I deputize you to do the kissin' for me," he said to
Parenthesis, who had laid his hand shoulder to detain him.
"No, siree," the cowboy replied. "Every man does his own kissin'
in this game." Slim half-turned as if undecided. Suddenly he
turned on his heel, started for the corral. "I'll wait outside,"
he shouted.
"No, you don't!" cried his companions. He turned to face a
semicircle of drawn revolvers. He looked from one man to
another, as if puzzled what move to make next. Allen was annoyed
by the sheriff's actions, taking it as an insult that he would
not kiss his daughter, although he had started to twit the
Sheriff in the beginning.
"You ain't goin' to insult me and mine that way. No man
sidesteps kissin' one of my kids," he said angrily.
Slim was plaintively apologetic: "I ain't kissed a female since I
was a yearlin'."
"Time you started," snapped Polly.
"You kiss the bride, or I take it pussenel," said Allen,
thoroughly aroused.
"Well, if you put it that way, I'll do it," gasped Slim, in
desperation.
The agreement restored the boys to their good nature.
"You will have to put blinders on me, though, and back me up,"
cautioned Hoover.
"We'll hog-tie you and sit on your head," laughed Sage-brush, as
the guests entered the house.
CHAPTER VI
A Tangled Web
After fording Sweetwater River several times to throw pursuit off
the track, Buck McKee and Bud Lane entered an arroyo to rest
their mounts and hold council as to their future movements.
During the flight both had been silent; McKee was busy revolving
plans for escape in his mind, and Bud was brooding over the
tragic ending of the lawless adventure into which he had been led
by his companion. When McKee callously informed him that the
agent had been killed in the encounter, Bud was too horrified to
speak. A dry sob arose in his throat at the thought of his old
friend lying dead, all alone, in the station. His first impulse
was to turn back to Florence and surrender himself to the
Sheriff. Had this entailed punishment of himself alone, he would
have done it but he still retained a blind loyalty in his
associate and principal in the crime. Murder, it seemed, was to
be expected when one took the law in his own hands to right an
injustice. He didn't clearly understand it. It was his first
experience with a killing. The heartlessness of McKee both awed
and horrified him. Evidently the half-breed was used to such
actions. It appeared to be entirely justified in his code. So
Bud followed in dull silence the masterful man who had involved
him in the fearful deed.
When they dismounted, however, his pent-up emotion burst forth.
"You said there would be no killing," he gasped, passing his hand
wearily across his forehead as if to wipe out the memory of the
crime.
"Well, what did the old fool pull his gun for?" grumbled McKee
petulantly, as if Terrill was the aggressor in the encounter.
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