The girl rose obediently. But as Turkey turned to the horses two strong, rounded arms clasped him and warm lips pressed a kiss upon his cheek. Disengaged, he staggered back.
"It wasn't so bad, was it?" the girl laughed. "You won't be so shy next time." She drew a fringed buckskin glove from her left hand, and to Turkey's utter horror he beheld the dull gleam of gold upon the third finger.
A wedding ring! Oh Lord! Somebody's crazy wife. Suppose the husband showed up and found a kissing match going on!
"Turkey dear," said the crazy wife, "you haven't asked me who I am."
"Well, who are you?" said Turkey. Likely she would claim to be Joan of Arc or Pocahontas, and she would be calling him old Cap. Smith next.
"I am Faith Mackay, Angus' wife!"
"What!" Turkey gasped.
Faith laughed, her eyes dancing.
"I know you'll forgive me, Turkey. But you were so funny, and so be-yewtifully shy! You wouldn't come to our wedding, and I never saw you, and so I couldn't resist having a little fun with you."
Turkey grinned shamefacedly. "I thought you were crazy," he admitted.