Two-Spot's funeral was a holiday by tacit consent, and Gunsight was the Mecca for the surrounding country. Fanning offered the hotel, but Dave's eyes grew red and he declared that the saloon had been Two-Spot's home and that he would be buried from it, even if the cap-and-ball had to cast the deciding votes. Slim rode to Juniper half an hour after he had heard the news and brought a minister back with him. Cimarron sent Larry Hallock to the ranch with the news, George Hallock to the SV, and went down to notify the Triangle himself. The day dawned clear and reasonably cool, and at an early hour the riders began to come in. The saloon was as clean as Dave, Johnny, and George could make it, and the rude box which had kept Dailey and Fanning up most of the night with hammer and saw, was covered by green boughs and a few wild flowers. As each newcomer rode up to the door he was quietly informed by Dave that the bar was closed and would remain so until after the funeral. There would be no instrumental music, for Arch Wiggins' offer to ride to the Double X for his fiddle was politely but firmly declined after he had been questioned about his repertoire; Jerry's harmonica was overruled, and Reilly's accordion was declined for the same reason which had barred the violin. When Margaret Arnold rode up alone with a huge bouquet of old-fashioned flowers, Gunsight became tremendously interested and there was a great amount of surreptitious grooming going on in out-of-the-way places. Lin Sherwood regretted that he had not been more neighborly, and that he had decided against his new boots, tight though they were. He accused himself of being a poor sort of a grown-up man not to risk a corn or two under such circumstances. He frowned down Slim's sheepish remark about seeing Miss Arnold home after the ceremony as being unwarranted and too forward; and he kept Slim in sight thereafter. Dailey cursed Big Tom's warning about selling supplies to the SV and was gloomy because of the handicap it put him under, but it became him well in such an atmosphere and nearly gave him the place of chief mourner. Several of the rejected suitors formed a consolation circle and deeply reflected the sorrow expected at funerals, grumbling because the universal remedy for grief would not be obtainable until the return from the grave. There was a suggestion concerning a concerted rush on the bar, but the tender flower of hope was frostbitten by a glance at the cap-and-ball protruding from Dave's waist-band. The proprietor had no consideration for the sacredness of the occasion to hang around the walnut armed like a highwayman, and the amount of pugnacious confidence he exhaled and exuded was entirely out of place. "He acts like a cow with its first calf," growled Sam Gardner. "He acts like it was _his_ funeral, which I'm sorry it ain't," snorted Pete Wiggins' young hopeful, still raw about the matter concerning his fiddle.