"Well, when we finally got to Plumas I just concluded Emerson's neck wasn't in danger for another hour, and that I'd better set that little girl straight the first thing I did, before the young chap got under his father's thumb. I knew he meant all right and loved her like hell's blazes, but he's more afraid of his father than a self-respectin' young man of his age ought to be. So we went straight to Miss Delarue's. I tell you what, boys, that Miss Delarue is a regular royal flush. There ain't another girl can stack up with her in the whole territory. I took Will Whittaker in and told her how matters stood, and you ought to have seen how pleased she was! If it had been her own weddin' she couldn't have been more interested, or looked happier. She was as glad to see Will as if he'd been her own brother, and all because she likes poor little Amada, and was glad to see her made happy, for of course it didn't concern her any other way." A little smile moved Mead's lips as he heard this, and he turned his eyes away to hide the happy look he felt was in them, for he knew how deep were Marguerite's reasons to be glad the runaway had returned. "While I went down-town to hunt up the _padre_," Nick went on, "she fixed Amada up with a white veil--you know these Mexican girls hardly think they've been married if they haven't had a white veil on--and a bunch of white flowers and a white sack that was all lace and ribbons over her night gown--for Amada's in bed yet, and had to be propped up on the pillows--and then she and I stood up with 'em and put our names down as witnesses. Then I marched the young man up to the court-house, and you-all know what happened there." "I saw you talking with Colonel Whittaker," said Mead. "Did you tell him about the wedding?" "You bet I did! I was plum' determined he should hear some straight talk about that, and if that little girl don't have a fair show with the Whittaker family it won't be my fault." "What did you-all say to him?" Tom asked.