When he had gone Tip O"Gorman threw a whimsical glance at Rafe Tuckleton.
"I"d feel better if he"d slammed that door," said Tip O"Gorman.
CHAPTER THREE
WHAT SALLY JANE THOUGHT
"Careless child," observed Bill Wingo, coming up on the porch where Sally Jane lay in the hammock. "You dropped your hat in the draw. I found it this morning. Here it is. Don"t move, sweet one. Of course, if you asked me to sit down or didn"t ask me I would, and if you felt like rustling some coffee and cake, or lemonade and doughnuts, or even just a piece of pie with a bite of cheese on the side--just a bite, not over half a pound, I don"t like cheese much--I wouldn"t stop you."
"Stop calling me "sweet one,"" Miss Prescott said crossly. "I"m not your sweet one, or anybody else"s sweet one, and I"ll get you something to fill your fat stomach, you lazy loafer, when I get good and ready.
Not before."
"Well, all right," he murmured resignedly, settling down on the stout pine rail of the porch and fanning himself with his hat. "But I love you just the same. What"s that? Did I hear you curse or something?"
"Something. I only said d.a.m.n because you make me sick. Love, love, love, morning, noon and night! Don"t men ever think of anything else?"
"Not when you"re around," he told her.
"Oh, it"s the very devil," admitted Sally Jane, rubbing her red mouth with a reflective forefinger. "Am I so alluring?"
"Who has been kissing you now?" he asked idly and wondered why her face should flame at the word. Wondered--because everybody knew Sally Jane.
On her part she wondered if he had seen what had pa.s.sed in the draw the day before, then decided instantly that he had not, else his manner toward her would have been decidedly different.
"You haven"t answered my question?" he persisted, still idly.
"Does it need one?"
"Well, no, not yet, anyway. When you"re engaged to me, I"ll know who"s kissing you."
"Don"t be disgusting."
"No disgusting about it. I"ll probably hug you, too."
"What dismal beasts men are," she said, with a mock shiver, having regained control of her jumpy nerves. "I suppose you"d enjoy having me sit on your knee."
"I would indeed," he told her warmly. "I think that chair there would hold the two of us if we sat quiet--fairly quiet."
It was at this juncture that her father, Sam Prescott, came out on the porch.
"Howdy, young Bill," said Sam. He invariably prefixed the adjective to Bill"s name. Why, no one knew. It was doubtful if he knew himself.
""Lo, Sam," said young Bill.
"Sam," said Sally Jane from the hammock, "s"pose now a man tried to hug you, and kiss you and make you sit on his knee, what would you do?"
"If I was you, you mean?" inquired Sam judicially. Middle-aged though he was, he never ceased to experience a pleasurable thrill when his daughter called him "Sam." It reminded him so much of her mother. "If I was you," he went on, without waiting for an answer, "and the feller which tried to make me do all those things was young Bill here, I"d do "em. I really believe he likes you, Sally Jane."
"You think so, do you?" sighed Sally Jane, smoothing her frock down over her ankles. "You too, Samuel? What chance has a poor girl got--without a club?"
"I told her if she married me," spoke up Bill, "she could have jam on Sundays and b.u.t.ter the rest of the week."
"There, you see, Sally Jane!" said Sam Prescott. "He"ll be good and generous. And if you asked him for a new dress now and then, or a pair of shoes, I"ll bet he wouldn"t say no."
Sally Jane stubbornly shook her copper-colored head of hair. "Samuel,"
said she, "you"re the only man I ever loved. Bill"s all right in his futile, thumb-handed way, but he"s not my Sam. Now don"t forget that one drink is enough for a plumpish man with a beautiful daughter, and that I want you to bring back a dozen cans of baking-powder, a dozen bars of May Rose soap, three dozen boxes of matches, four sacks of flour, sack of salt, sixty pounds of sugar, two papers of pins, four spools of number forty cotton and a pail of chocolate creams. Be sure and take the cover off and see it"s a full pail, and if Nate tries to palm off any stale stuff or hard candy on you, why just throw it in his face and tell him I"ll come in and complain in person my next trip."
"My Lord, Sally Jane," Sam exclaimed helplessly, "I can"t remember all that!"
"I know you can"t," said Sally Jane calmly. "I"ve merely been impressing it on you that there"s a lot of errands for you to do.
You"ll find a carefully written list of everything I want stuck in the coil of the tie-rope under the seat of the buck-board. You can"t miss it when you go to tie the team."
"And Sam," she added, raising her voice to a shout, for her father had already departed corralward, "be back by seven. I"m gonna make a lemon pie."
Her father waved a comprehending hand and disappeared behind the blacksmith shop.
"You see," said Billy Wingo, with a smirk of self-satisfaction, "the male parent approves. The last obstacle is removed. Be a sport. Take a chance. You might go farther and fare worse."
"I doubt it, William. Not that you aren"t a nice boy and all that sort of thing. However, tell sister why you seek her company this morning?"
"Oh, yes, of course, sister not being a good excuse for coming, I did another reason. I have a fresh bale of news for her li"l pink ear.
Last night I was approached--" He paused dramatically.
"How much did he try to borrow?" Sally Jane inquired indifferently.
"Nothing like that, sweet one. The political steersmen of our fair county rode out to my place last night and----"
"What did the old thief want?" Sally Jane brutally wished to know.
"_Steersmen_, beloved. There were two of him, and you do both old gentlemen an injustice. They----"
"So Tip came with Rafe, did he? And you mean to tell me you didn"t even miss your watch after they"d gone? You didn"t? They must be sick, the pair of them. What did they do?"
"Offered me the nomination for sheriff!"
Sally Jane sat up abruptly, stuck her finger in her mouth, then held it up to catch the vagrant breeze.
"The wind"s still in the west," she said, making her eyes round as saucers. "And you are still sitting there as large as life, and I"m here alive and in my right mind!" Here she pinched her forearm. "That hurt," she added. "I really am not dreaming. They want you for sheriff, huh?"
"Don"t "huh" at me, Sally Jane. It ain"t being done by the best people no more. And they want me for sheriff, really."
"I wonder just how much of that really is real?"
He wrinkled his forehead at her. "Sometimes, Sally Jane, you talk most awful puzzling."
"Those two old rascals!" she cried.