Gratton hurried after him, his face hot with rage, while Steve Jarrold
guffawed loudly and then, under Gloria's startled look, dropped his
eyes.
"Come back here, Spalding," commanded Gratton angrily. "Whatever you've
got to do can wait a minute----"
"_You_ wait," growled Jim. "I'll be back quick enough."
* * * * *
Mark King was awakened by old Jim rushing into the room, lighting a lamp
hastily, and making a deal of clatter. He sat up, demanding:
"Has Ben come?"
Jim began chuckling. After all, a wedding was a wedding, and therefore
a matter well worth a man's allowing himself to get a bit excited. From
a cupboard he began dragging forth his one and only serviceable suit of
clothes, dingy black, shiny affairs, but Jim's "best." He kicked off his
breeches, drew on the black trousers, and caught up the coat.
"No, Ben ain't back," he grinned at King. "Guess he'll be surprised when
he does come. His girl's gettin' herself married. To that city guy,
Gratton. Right now in the house!"
"What!" King had heard well enough, but that "What!" broke from him
explosively.
"An' me, I'm a witness," said old Jim. "Steve Jarrold's another. They
got the preacher there an' everything." He paused a moment and
reflected, with puckered brows. "What do you think of her marryin' that
swab, now? Think Ben's goin' to be pleased? Kind of surprising ain't it,
Mark?"
King managed a laugh which escaped critical notice only because old Jim
was only half listening.
"Oh, it's been open and shut all along that she'd marry Gratton," he
said, keeping his head down as he drew a match across the floor as
though to like a pipe whose bowl was empty. "If it suits his womenfolk,
I guess Ben will stand for it."
By now Jim had drawn his coat on and was back at the door.
"Better come along, Mark," he invited. "You don't see a weddin' every
day. Comin'?"
"No, thanks," said King. He broke his match between nervous fingers. He
raised his head to watch Jim go.
"Lord, Mark," said Spalding, holding on his heel a moment. "You must of
made one all-mighty day of it! You sure do look tuckered!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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