They were standing side by side in the parlor of the Widow Brown's, under a wedding-bell made of cedar boughs, which was suspended from the ceiling by a wire. All Lafe's nervousness was gone. His face was stern, but there was a peaceful light in the eyes that was good to see. Evidently Mrs. Horne thought so, for she and the Widow Brown cried softly and without ceasing. The bride was rather pale, but entirely composed. Only Turner and Horne fidgeted, the latter because his collar chafed him. Turner skimmed over the words and paused twice to whisper in an aside that he hoped to the Lord Lafe hadn't forgotten the ring. "Wilt thou have this woman to--" There was an inward surge, then a break in the ranks of the guests grouped behind the pair and at the door, and Turner paused with his hand raised. "Hold on there! Hold on," cried a falsetto voice. An enormously fat woman lurched through the company and confronted the groom. A felt hat with a red plume wagged rakishly on top of her head. She had on a blue calico skirt, and her feet were large and bulbous. They could not discern her features because of a veil. "What's this?" said she in a high-pitched voice. "What's this, Lafe Johnson?" "Ma'am?" said the sheriff. "What does this mean? Who is this lady?" "I don't take you, ma'am. This lady and me, we're just fixing to get married. What's the matter?" "Matter? Matter?" shrieked the intruder. "You do fine to ask, don't you, Lafe Johnson? What about me that you left in Abilene, back in Texas? Hey? How about li'l' Charlie and James, that's the dead image of you? He's been a-cryin' for you, Lafe. Just after he got over the measles--oh, you wretch!" "Abilene?" repeated the sheriff dully. "Abilene? Charlie and James? Why, I was never in Abilene longer than half an hour in my life, ma'am. You can see for yourself--" Hetty, who had shrunk back with a startled air at the entrance of the fat woman, now moved suddenly and pulled up the veil, disclosing the round, shining visage of the Anvil cook. "Why!" said Horne. "If it ain't old Dave!" Instead of throwing him into the street or into jail, as he deserved, the company permitted Dave to retire with honor to the outer circle, where he divested himself of skirt, waist and plumed hat, and was heard to entreat one of the boys to help loosen the belt with which he had painfully compressed his figure for the event. They could hear him squeal, pretending to be tickled. All agreed that his portrayal of feminine behavior was a marvel of similitude. Neither Lafe nor the bride took the interruption in ill part. The justice of the peace only appeared chagrined--Turner was in an agony of fear lest he lose his place--but even he managed to join in the laugh. The two faced him again. Three minutes later they were man and wife. CHAPTER XXIV THE BRIDE IS LOST