"What! Share my Johnnie with her? Not much. She stole that there boy from me by force. By Jing! I'll take him from her without liftin' a finger. Ye see, Johnnie is mighty apt to disappint the widder. Sometimes--more often than not--Johnnie _is_--disappintin'! I allus jedge the pore boy by contrairies. Most o' men when they marry air apt to forgit them as raised 'em, but Johnnie'll pine fer me. I know it. Bless his heart, he can't git along nohow without me." Listening to this simple talk, watching the old man's rough, honest face, my own heart grew chill with apprehension. The widow had a small income and many charms. It was certain that Johnnie's curly hair, bright blue eyes, and stalwart figure had captivated her fancy. Pity had bloomed into love. The pair must have driven--as fast as the widow's steed could travel--into San Lorenzo. By this time, high noon, the licence, doubtless, had been issued and the marriage solemnised by parson or justice of the peace. Once married, no man--not even old man Kapus--would be justified in tearing Bumblepuppy from the fond arms of his bride. We asked Johnnie's uncle to dine with us. He thanked us warmly. "Boys, you surmise that I'm feelin' lonesome. And I am. But I won't be lonesome long. The widder can't let that cow o' hers go without two milkin's, an' her pigs an' chickens must be fed. She'll be back in the village 'bout four or five; an' to-night, to-night, boys, my Johnnie 'll be home to supper." Ajax discreetly descanted upon the widow's fine complexion, but old man Kapus lent him but an indifferent ear. "She's fat an' slick," he admitted, "but Johnnie's fat an' slick, too. An' who made him so? Why--his uncle Abram. D'ye think now that I've fed him up and got him into sech fine shape that he'll leave me? No, sir. You might act that-a-way, but not my Johnnie." After dinner, we accompanied Uncle Abram as far as the creek which flows between the village and our domain. Here stand some fine cottonwood trees and half-a-dozen lordly white-oaks. The spot is famous as a picnicking ground, and in the heat of summer is as cool a place as may be found in the county. And here, paddling in the brook like an urchin, we found Bumblepuppy. His eyes sparkled as they fell upon the face of his uncle. "Ye've got back, Johnnie," said the old man. "Yas. 'Twas hotter'n a red-hot stove on the road." "Ye druv in with the widder woman?" "Yas. I druv in with her; but I walked back. Guess I run the most o' the way, too." "An' Mis' Janssen--wheer is she?" "I dunno', uncle Abram." "Is she still a widder woman, Johnnie?" "She was when I left her," said Bumblepuppy. He had ascended the bank. Sitting down, he began to put on his socks. I noted the admirable symmetry of calf and ankle; I thought of the lungs and muscles which had sustained the superb body during a twenty- six mile run between blazing earth and sky.