“‘Now, see thar!’ ejac’lates Abby, liftin’ up her hands.  ’Does mortal y’ears ever before listen to sech folly!  I suppose he takes that gun I has as threats!  I’m a onprotected young female, an’ nacherally, when I embarks on this yere elopement, I packs one of paw’s guns.  Besides, this sweetheart of mine might get cold feet, an’ try to jump the game, an’ then I’d need said weepon to make good my p’sition.  But it’s never meant for that pastor!  When I’m talkin’ to him to prevail on him to come along, an’ that gun in my hand at the time, I does sort o’ make references to him with the muzzle.  But he needn’t go gettin’ birdheaded over it; thar’s nothin’ hostile meant!’

“‘Enright explains to him satisfact’ry,’ says Boggs.  ‘An’ as you urges, it don’t mean nothin’.  Folks on the brink of bein’ married that a-way gets so joyfully bewildered it comes mighty near the same as bein’ locoed.’

“‘Well,’ says the pinfeather party, who’s been stackin’ up a dust-cloud where some one’s gallopin’ along about three miles over on the trail, ‘if I’m any dab at a guess that’s your infuriated paw pirootin’ along over yonder, an’ we better get these matrimonial hobbles on without further onreasonable delays.  That old murderer would plug me; an’ no more hes’tation than if I’m a coyote!  But once I’m moved up into p’sition as his son-in-law, a feelin’ of nearness an’ kinship mighty likely op’rates to stay his hand.  Blood’s thicker than water, an’ I’m in a hurry to get reelated to your paw.’

“But Enright has his notions of what’s proper, an’ he su’gests the services be delayed ontil old Glegg gets in.  Meanwhile he despatches Jack Moore an’ Dan Boggs as a gyard of honor to lead old Glegg to our trystin’ place in the New York store.

“‘An’ the first thing you-all do, Jack,’ says Enright, as Jack an’ Dan rides away, ‘you get that outcast’s guns.’

“It ain’t no more’n time for one drink when Jack an’ Dan returns in company of this Glegg.  He’s a fierce, gray old gent with a eye like a wolf.  Jest before he arrives, Enright advises the pinfeather person an’ the bride Abby, to go camp in the r’ar room so the sudden sight of ’em won’t exasp’rate this parent Glegg to madness.

“‘Whatever’s the meanin’ of this yere concourse?’ demands old Glegg, as he comes into the New York store, an’ p’intin’ to where Peets an’ Texas an’ Cherokee Hall, along with Enright, is standin’ about; ‘an’ why does these hold-ups’—­yere he indicates Dan an’ Jack,—­’denoode me of my hardware, I’d like to know?’

“‘These gents,’ says Enright, ’is a quorum of that respectable body known as the Wolfville Stranglers, otherwise a Vig’lance Committee; an’ your guns was took so as to redooce the chances of hangin’ you—­the same bein’ some abundant, nacheral,—­to minimum.  Now who be you? also, what’s your little game?’

“‘My name’s Benjamin Glegg,’ responds old Glegg.  ’I owns the Sunflower brand an’ ranch.  As for my game:  thar’s a member of my fam’ly escapes this mornin’—­comes streamin’ over yere, I onderstands—­an’ I’m in the saddle tryin’ to round her up.  Gents,’ concloods old Glegg, an’ he displays emotion, ’I’m simply a harassed parent on the trail of his errant offspring.’