Near the middle of the afternoon, the drivers hauling the blocks drove near the kiln and shouted that the hunters had returned.  Scaling off the burnt rock in the interior and removing the debris made it late before our job was finished; then one of the vaqueros working on the outside told us that the ambulance had crossed the river over an hour before, and was then in the ranch.  This was good news, and mounting our horses we galloped into headquarters and found the corral outfit already there.  Miss Jean soon had our segundo an unwilling prisoner in a corner, and from his impatient manner and her low tones it was plain to be seen that her two days’ visit with Mrs. Annear had resulted in some word for Deweese.  Not wishing to intrude, I avoided them in search of my employer, finding him and Gallup at an outhouse holding a hound while Scales was taking a few stitches in an ugly cut which the dog had received from a javeline.  Paying no attention to the two boys, I gave him the news, and bluntly informed him that Esther and I expected to marry in May.

“Bully for you, Tom,” said he.  “Here, hold this fore foot, and look out he don’t bite you.  So she’ll get her divorce at the May term, and then all outdoors can’t stand in your way the next time.  Now, that means that you’ll have to get out fully two hundred more of those building rock, for your cottage will need three rooms.  Take another stitch, knot your thread well, and be quick about it.  I tell you the javeline were pretty fierce; this is the fifth dog we’ve doctored since we returned.”

On freeing the poor hound, we both looked the pack over carefully, and as no others needed attention, Aaron and Glenn were excused.  No sooner were they out of hearing than I suggested that the order be made for five hundred stone, as no doubt John Cotton would also need a cottage shortly after Lent.  The old matchmaker beamed with smiles.  “Is that right, Tom?” he inquired.  “Of course, you boys tell each other what you would hardly tell me.  And so they have made the riffle at last?  Why, of course they shall have a cottage, and have it so near that I can hear the baby when it cries.  Bully for tow-headed John.  Oh, I reckon Las Palomas is coming to the front this year.  Three new cottages and three new brides is not to be sneezed at!  Does your mistress know all this good news?”

I informed him that I had not seen Miss Jean to speak to since the funeral, and that Cotton wished his intentions kept a secret.  “Of course,” he said; “that’s just like a sap-headed youth, as if getting married was anything to be ashamed of.  Why, when I was the age of you boys I’d have felt proud over the fact.  Wants it kept a secret, does he?  Well, I’ll tell everybody I meet, and I’ll send word to the ferry and to every ranch within a hundred miles, that our John Cotton and Frank Vaux are going to get married in the spring.  There’s nothing disgraceful in matrimony, and I’ll publish this so wide that neither of them will dare back out.  I’ve had my eye on that girl for years, and now when there’s a prospect of her becoming the wife of one of my boys, he wants it kept a secret?  Well, I don’t think it’ll keep.”