"Now, that'd be horrible, wouldn't it?" he said. Then, very quietly: "I reckon I can take care of my wife, Hetty."
CHAPTER XVI
THE GUNFIGHTER RETURNS AND DELAYS WEDDING
They were to be married in a fortnight. Hetty's preparations were of the simplest sort.
"I'll fix my hair the way you like it," she said, laughing. "That's about all I can do."
On his part, Lafe wrote to the Floyds and obtained their promise to come. Mrs. Floyd did not seem to resent this usurpation of the sheriff's affection, which establishes her rarity beyond question. Then he ordered some furniture. It was of an inexpensive kind, because he had saved nothing and had only a month's pay owing to him. The sheriff would not run into debt, having had a surfeit of its effects when a cowboy.
Of course he went to call on Hetty every night at the Widow Brown's. Occasionally he found opportunity to drop around during the day, too. Hetty had resigned as waitress, and her admirers faded away, for it is foolish to meddle with another man's girl, when that other is such an one as Lafe Johnson. And ten or eleven days sped by.
Then, about eight o'clock on an evening when the sheriff was talking to Hetty on the Widow Brown's porch, Steve Moffatt ambled into town. He dismounted quietly in front of the Fashion, walked across to the express office and stuck a six-shooter under the agent's nose. That official reasoned swiftly and decided to let him take what he could find. He was not without pluck, but he was also a very sensible man. There was only ninety dollars in the safe, and having soundly berated the agent on this account, Moffatt put it in his pocket and rode out of Badger. He left the agent bound to a chair and securely gagged.
"Tell Lafe Johnson good-by for me," Moffatt said at departure. "Give him and his girl my regards."