Buckshot shook his haid. "I'm right sorry t' see any bad blood 'twixt y'," he says. Next thing, it was all over town that Hank was a-lookin' fer me. Afterwards, I heerd that it was Hairoil tole Macie about it. "You know," he says to her, "whenever Hank's loaded and in hollerin' distance of a town, you can shore bet some one's goin' t' git hurt." Mace, she looked a little bit nervous. But she just said, "I reckon Alec can take keer of hisself." Then off she goes to pick out a trunk at Silverstein's. I reckon, though, that ole Silverstein 'd heerd about the trouble, too. So when Mace come back to the eatin'-house, she sit down and writ me a letter. "_Friend Alec,_" it said, "_I want to see you fer a minute right after supper. Macie Sewell._" It was four o'clock then. Supper was a good two hours off. Say! how them two hours drug! But all good things come to a' end--as the feller said when he was strung up on a rope. And the hands of my watch loped into they places when they couldn't hole back no longer. Then, outen the door on the track side of the eatin'-house, here she come! My little gal! I was hungry t' talk to her, and git holt of one of her hands. But whilst I watched her walk toward me, I couldn't move, it seemed like; and they was a lump as big as a baseball right where my Adam's apple oughta be. "Macie!" She stopped and looked straight at me, and I seen she'd been cryin'. "Alec," she says, "I didn't mean t' give in and see you 'fore I went. But they tole me you and Hank 'd had words. And--and I couldn't stay mad no longer." "Aw, honey, thank y'!" "I ain't a-goin' away t' stay," she says. "Leastways, I don't _think_ so. But I want a try at singin', Alec,--a chanst. Paw's down on me account of that. And he don't even come in town no more. Wal, I'm sorry. But--_you_ understand, Alec, don't y'?" "Yas, little gal. Go ahaid. I wouldn't hole you back. I _want_ you should have a chanst." "And if I win out, I want you t' come to Noo York and hear me sing. Will y', Alec?" "Ev'ry night, I'll go out under the cottonwoods, by the ditch, and I'll say, 'Gawd, bless my little gal.'" "I won't fergit y', Alec." I turned my haid away. Off west they was just a little melon-rind of moon in the sky. As I looked, it begun to dance, kinda, and change shape. "I'll allus be waitin'," I says, after a little, "--if it's five years, 'r fifty, 'r the end of my life." "They won't never be no other man, Alec. Just you----" "Macie!" That second, we both heerd hollerin' acrosst the street. Then here come Hairoil, runnin', and carryin' a gun. "Cupid," he says, pantin', "take this." (He shoved the gun into my hand.) "Miss Macie, git outen the way. It's Hank!" Quick as I could, I moved to one side, so's she wouldn't be in range. "_Ye-e-e-oop!_"