Louisa was the last to leave the house. At the parting moment she had gone to her father with tears in her eyes. “Good-bye, dad,” she said. “I’ll come over to see you soon. I know ye ain’t sorry to part from me or I’d feel worse about goin’. I wisht I could have married to suit ye, but I’ve got the man I love, if that’s any consolation to ye. An’ if it does ye any good to hear it, why I tell ye there ain’t a cloud upon my sky except that I ain’t pleased ye. Me an’ you ain’t been so terrible happy; maybe it’s because we knowed each other too late, but I’d like ye to kiss me good-bye, fer ye’re the only parent I got and this is my weddin’ day. I ain’t got no mother, and I’d like to part from ye without no hard feelin’s.” Moved by her appeal, the man put his arm awkwardly around her and gave her a swift kiss, then, as if ashamed even of this exhibition of feeling, he pushed her from him. “I ain’t harborin’ no ill feelin’s to you, Louisy,” he said. “You done yer best. I’d rather ye’d married Jabez and bed that nice home, but what’s done’s done. I wish ye luck, yes, I do.” He pushed her further away and went abruptly into the house shutting the door after him. His own horse being too used up for further travel without a day’s rest, Ira had ridden over on Hero, John driving the wagon in which were Christine, Alison, and Lolita, a slower way of proceeding, but one which accommodated the whole family. It was proposed that Louisa should occupy a place with the girls, but Ira, lover-like, insisted that she should be mounted in front of him. “Then, if that’s the way you must go, you’d better take my horse,” said Blythe Van Dorn. “He’s heavier than yours, Ira, and will carry double weight; besides my saddle is better adapted for two.” And so Blythe mounted Hero and the bridal pair set off, escorted by their friends. Over the miles of rough road they jogged along, making the night ring with laugh and song, and a fusilade once in a while to give vent to their feelings and to show in true Texan fashion that something especial called forth a use of pistols. As they neared the various ranches one after another dropped out of the procession and turned toward his own home, till, by the time the Rosses left the main road, there were not many to accompany them further. Blythe, who had stopped to say a word to a departing comrade, was somewhat in the rear, and singing softly to himself jogged along at a careless pace. As the last clump of trees was passed, a man suddenly sprang out and seized Hero by the bridle. Two or three pistol shots followed in quick succession and Blythe fell to the ground, while the man sprang upon Hero and dashed off down the road as if pursued by furies. In an instant every man had wheeled around and shot after shot rang out upon the still night air. “After him, boys,” shouted Bud.