"Ol' man Horne has bought the Anvil range. He's made me boss, too. A hundred a month."
Hetty exclaimed in delight as Johnson proudly exhibited a letter received quite three weeks before, which he had been holding back in order to cap his resignation. That made everything smooth and safe for them. They would have their home in Hope Cañon beyond the Willows, and good fresh beef and butter and milk. Assuredly Lafe would himself become a rich cowman some day. Hetty was sure of it.
Their wedding-morn broke, sullen and muttering like a man heavy with sleep. Badger kicked off the blankets, sat up to ascertain just what head it had contracted, and asked hoarsely for an eye-opener. An eye-opener is a drink of undiluted whisky, gulped down before breakfast. Then it stepped out into the road, cocked an eye aloft and opined that the weather looked bad for the sheriff's wedding. They will always call him "sheriff" in Badger.
Turner, the storekeeper, announced at a very early hour that it was mere folly trying to work, and nobody need expect him to attend to business that day or for several to come, perhaps. Thereupon he shut up shop and carried a graphophone on to the front porch. It played "In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree" eleven times, while the express agent's dog squatted in the road, with its nose tilted back, and howled dismally.
About noon, nine of the Anvil boys rode into town to grace the occasion. They had on clean shirts, and their boots were greased and odorous. Following them came Mr. and Mrs. Horne in a buckboard. The couple had driven forty miles to do honor to the new range boss, and Mrs. Horne lost no time in repairing to the Widow Brown's to assist in attiring the bride. She found that young woman aggravatingly cool--almost placid. Next there arrived the Floyds, with their son Tommy, now grown to overalls and boastful talk.
All the male population of Badger was gathered in the Fashion and in the Cowboys' Rest across the street. Thither hastened Horne and Floyd to hearten the sheriff, but they discovered only their own men and a crowd of merry-makers. Escaping from them in good time, the two sought Turner, who, as justice of the peace, was to perform the ceremony. The storekeeper was found crouched behind some goods in the back portion of his place. He was perspiring profusely. Some fiend in human form had warned Bob not to mix the burial service with the marriage ceremony, as he had done on another occasion best forgotten, and the justice of the peace could not get the fearful idea out of his head. He was therefore trying to commit as much as possible of the service to memory.