The Sagebrusher: A Story of the WestHough, Emerson
General
The Sagebrusher: A Story of the West
Hough, Emerson
Western stories
"Sim," said Wid Gardner, "it was understood that this thing was to run
in your name. Now, Mis' Davidson--when it comes to fixing up a love
correspondence, she's the ace! It all ain't my fault a-tall, Sim. We
advertised--and we got a answer, and we follered it up. And this here
letter is the _re_-sult. I allowed we'd ought to tell you too, by now."
"What you been doing--fooling with me, you two?" demanded Sim. "That
whole thing was a joke."
"It's one hell of a fine joke now," rejoined Wid Gardner. "She's
a-coming on out. Sim, it's up to you. _I_ ain't been advertising fer
no wife. This here letter is _yours_."
"That's a fine thing you done, ain't it?" said Sim Gage, turning on to
his neighbor. "When you find the ford's too deep to git acrost, you
begin to holler fer help."
"That's neither here nor there. That ain't the worst--I've got her
picture here, and her letters too. She's been plumb honest all along.
She says she's pretty much broke, and not too well. She says when she
sees you she hopes you won't think she's deceived you. She says she
knows you're everything you said you was--a gentle and chi_val_erous
ranchman of the West, sure to be kind to a woman. She's scared--she's
that honest. But she's a-coming. She's going to try housekeeping
though--no more'n that. Rest's all up to you, not her. She balked
from the jump on all marrying talk."
"Mis' Davidson ought to take care of this thing," said Sim Gage, his
features now working, as usual, in his perplexity.
"Mis' Davidson is due to pull her freight. She's going down on her own
homestead. I'm some scared too, Sim. You don't really _know_ how you
been making love to this woman. I didn't know Mis' Davidson had it in
her. You got to come through now, Sim."
"Who says I got to come through?"
"You got to go to town to-morrow."
"So you're a-going to make me go in to town tomorrow and marry a woman
I never seen, whether I want to or not?"
"No, it ain't right up to that--you needn't think she's coming out here
to hunt up a preacher and git married to you right away. Not a-tall,
Mr. Gage, not none a-tall! She never onct said she'd do any more'n
come out here and keep house fer you one season--that's all. Said she
wouldn't deceive you. God knows how you can keep from deceiving _her_.
Look at this place. And you got to bring her here--to-morrow. She'll
be at Two Forks station to-morrow morning at eight-thirty, on the Park
train. This here thing is up to you right now. You made such a holler
about needing a woman to make things human fer you. Well, here you
are. There's the cards--play 'em the way they lay. You be human now
if you can. You got the chance."
"I ain't got no wagon, Wid," said Sim, weakly. "You know I ain't got
none."
"You'll have to take my buckboard."
"And you know I ain't got no team--my horse, he ain't right
strong--didn't winter none too well--and I couldn't go there with just
one mule, now could I?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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