“Wind-River Smith spoke to get to give the bride away, and we let him have it.

“We’d just got settled to business when in comes Angevine, puffing like a buffalo.  ‘For Heaven’s sakes!  Ain’t you finished yet?’ says he; ’well, you want to be at it, for the old man ain’t over two minutes behind me, coming fast.  I took the distance in ten-foot steps.  Just my luck!  Foot slipped when I was talking to him, and I dropped a remark that made him suspicious—­I wouldn’t have done it for a ton of money—­but it’s too late now.  I’ll down him and hold him out there if you say so.’

“Well, sir, at this old Father Slade stood right up, forgetting that foot entirely.

“‘Children, be ready,’ says he, and he went over the line for a record.

“‘Hurry there!’ hollers old Bob from the outside, where he was on watch; ‘here comes uncle up the long coulee!’

“‘What are your names?’ says Father Slade.  They told him, both red’ning.

“’Do you, Kyle, take this woman, Loys, to have and keep track of, come hell or high water, her heirs and assigns for ever?’—­or such a matter—­says he, all in one breath, They both said they did.

“Things flew till we came to the ring.  There was a hitch.  We had plumb forgotten that important article.  For a minute I felt stingy; then I cussed myself for a mean old long-horn, and dived into my box.

“‘Here, take this!’ I says.  ‘It was my mother’s!’

“‘Oh, Red!  You mustn’t part with that!’ cried Loys, her eyes filling up.

“’Don’t waste time talking; I put through what I tackle.  Hurry, please, Father.’

“‘Has anybody any objections to these proceedings?’ says he.

“‘I have,’ says I, ’but I won’t mention ’em.  Give them the verdict.’

“‘I pronounce you man and wife.  Let us pray,’ says he.

“‘What’s that?’ screeches Uncle Jonesy from the doorway.  And then he gave us the queerest prayer you ever heard in your life.  He stood on one toe and clawed chunks out of the air while he delivered it.

“He seemed to have it in for me in particular.  ’You villain!  You rascal!  You red-headed rascal!  You did this!  I know you did!’

“‘Oh, uncle!’ says I, ‘forgive me!’ With that I hugged him right up to me, and he filled my bosom full of smothered language.

“‘Cheese it, you little cuss!’ I whispered in his ear, ’or I’ll break every rib in your poor old chest!’ I came in on him a trifle, Just to show him what I could do if I tried.

“‘Nuff!’ he wheezes.  ’Quit.  ‘Nuff.’

“’Go up and congratulate ’em,’ I whispered again.

“‘I won’t,’ says he.  ‘Ouch!  Yes, I will!  I will!’ So up he goes, grinding his teeth.

“‘I wish you every happiness,’ he grunts.

“‘Won’t you forgive me, uncle?’ begs Loys.

“‘Some other time; some other time!’ he hollers, and he pranced out of the house like a hosstyle spider, the maddest little man in the Territory.