Ellhorn slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s all right, Tommy. It was such a good joke I couldn’t help it. Don’t you remember that stunning pretty girl we saw on the street with the kid the day Emerson came into town, that I told you was Frenchy Delarue’s daughter?”
“What? Emerson! You don’t mean—say, Nick! I don’t—Emerson?” And Tuttle stopped, from sheer inability to express his mingled feelings, and stared at his companion, his face the picture of mystified amazement.
Ellhorn nodded. “I don’t know anything about it, but two or three times I’ve seen things about Emerson that made me think he must be gettin’ into that sort of trouble somewhere, and if he is I sure think it can’t be anybody but Miss Delarue.”
Tuttle was silent a few moments, thinking the matter over. Then he shook his head doubtfully.
“If it was you or me, Nick, I could understand it. But Emerson! Nick, I can’t believe it until I know it’s so!”
“I wouldn’t have thought so either, but you never can tell,” Nick replied oracularly. “Now, I’d kiss Amada Garcia, or any other pretty girl, every time I got a chance. You wouldn’t do it unless you could sneak around behind the house where nobody could see, and you wouldn’t say a word about it afterward. But Emerson, well, maybe Emerson would too, but I don’t reckon he would even think about kissin’ her unless she asked him to, and I’m dead sure he’d never think about it afterward. But that’s just the sort of a man who gets knocked plumb out when a woman does hit him. It wouldn’t make any difference to you or me, or not very long anyway, because we’d go right along and love some other girl just as much the next time. Likely you’ve been in love as many times as I have, and I don’t know how many that is, but I don’t believe Emerson ever thought more’n twice about any woman before this. But I sure reckon he’s knocked out now, and bad enough to last him a long time. He’s just the sort that don’t want any woman if he can’t get the one he does want. But you and me, Tommy,—Lord-a-mighty! We’ll have a sweetheart every time we can get one!”
Tuttle blushed a still deeper crimson under his red tan at this frank account of his possible love affairs, and after a few moments of silence he nodded thoughtfully:
“I guess you-all have hit it off about right, Nick, But I never thought Emerson would be the first one of us three to go and get married! I thought likely none of us ever would!”
“He ain’t married yet, and I don’t know as she’d have him.”
“Why not? Of course she would!” said Tom, resentful at the idea that any girl could refuse his idolized friend. He whittled the board fence despondently a few moments, and then added with a brighter look: “But he’s on the wrong side of politics to suit her father, and I reckon Frenchy wouldn’t have it.”