He rejoined Echo as he spoke. The guests reseated themselves. Mrs. Allen laid her hand on Jack's shoulder and said: "Just the same, it ain't right and proper for you to be together before the ceremony without a chaperonie." "Nothin' that's right nice is ever right proper," laughed Slim. "Well, it ain't the way folks does back East," replied Mrs. Allen tartly, glaring at the Sheriff. "Blast the East," growled Allen. "We does things in our own way out here." With a mischievous smile, Slim glanced at his comrades, and then solemnly observed: "Still, I hear they does make the two contractin'-parties sit off alone by themselves--" "What for?" asked Jack. "Why, to give them the last bit of quiet enjoyment they're goin' to have for the rest of their lives," chuckled Slim. The cowboys laughed hilariously at the sally, but Mrs. Allen, throwing her arms about Echo's neck, burst into tears, crying: "My little girl." "What's the use of opening up the sluices now, Josephine?" "Let her alone, Jim," drawled Slim; "her feelin's is harrowed some, an' irrigation is what they needs most." The outburst of tears was incomprehensible to the bridegroom. Already irritated by the McKee incident, he took affront at the display of sentiment. "I don't want any crying at MY wedding." "It's half my wedding," pouted Echo tearfully. "Ain't I losin' my daughter," sobbed Mrs. Allen. "Ain't you getting my mother's son?" snapped Jack. The men howled with glee at the rude badinage which only called forth a fresh burst of weeping on the part of Mrs. Allen, in which the girls began show symptoms of joining. Polly sought to soothe the trouble by pushing Jack playfully to one side, and saying: "Oh, stop it all. Look here, Echo Allen, you know your hair ain't fixed yet." "An' the minister due here at any minute," added Mrs. Allen. "Come along, we will take charge of you now," ordered Polly. The girls gathered in a group about the bride, bustling and chattering, telling her all men were brutes at time and, looking at the fat Sheriff, who blushed to the roots of his hair at the charge, that "Slim Hoover was the worst of the lot." Mrs. Allen pushed them away, and again fell weeping on Echo's shoulder. "Hold on now, They ain't a soul goin' to do nothin' for her except her mother," she whimpered. "There she goes again," said Jack in disgust. "He's goin' to take my child away from me," wailed the mother. Tears were streaming down Echo's cheek. "Don't cry, mother," she wept. "No, no, don't cry," echoed the girls. "It's all for the best," began Polly. "It's all for the best, it's all for the best," chorused the group. "Well, I'll be--" gasped Jack. "Jack Payson you just ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Polly, stamping her foot. "You nasty, mean old thing," she threw in for good measure. Mrs. Allen led Echo from the room. The girls followed, crying "You nasty, mean old thing" to the unfortunate bridegroom.