"'Will Banion, come to me, or it may be too late. There never was any wedding. I am the most wicked and most unhappy woman in the world. You owe me nothing! But come! M.W.'
"That's what it says. Now you know. Tell me--you heard of no wedding back at Independence Rock? They said nothing? He and she--"
"Ef they was ever any weddin' hit was a damned pore sort, an' she says thar wasn't none. She'd orto know."
"Can you ride, Jackson?"
"Span in six fast mules for a supply wagon, such as kin gallop. I'll sleep in that a hour or so. Git yore men started, Will. We may be too late. It's nigh fifty mile to the ford o' the Green."
[pg 263]
It came near to mutiny when Banion ordered a third of his men to stay back with the ox teams and the families. Fifty were mounted and ready in five minutes. They were followed by two fast wagons. In one of these rolled Bill Jackson, unconscious of the roughness of the way.
On the Sandy, twenty miles from the ford, they wakened him.
"Now tell me how it lies," said Banion. "How's the country?"