Another hour dragged out before his repeated gazing was rewarded. Then, off in the east, a smudge of dust resolved itself into a team and wagon.
"That's Hi with Ann!" he said excitedly. "Our sky pilot ought to be here soon."
"Lots of time yet," Tommy assured. "He won't be leavin' town for a couple of hours."
"Maybe not, Tommy, but I don't trust that chariot of fire. I'm afraid it'll give its death rattle almost any time, dump our parson in th' road an' stop our weddin'. That'd be bad!"
Tommy roused to the dire possibilities of the situation.
"It would," he agreed. "It takes a preacher, a fool or a brave man to trust himself in a ve-hicle like that. He ought to come horseback. He—
"Say, Bruce, why can't I saddle up an' lead a horse in after him? I can make it easy. That'd keep you from worryin'. Matter of fact, between th' women in th' house an' you with your fussin' outdoors I'm afraid my nerves won't stand it all! I've been through stampedes on th' Pecos, an' blizzards in Nebraska; I've been lost in Death Valley an' I've had a silver tip try to box my ears, but I just naturally can't break myself to p'lite society!"
"I don't believe you, but your idea wins," Bayard laughed. "Go on after him. Take ... Say, you take Abe for him to ride back! That's th' thing to do. You put th' parson on Abe an' we'll be as certain to start this fracas on time as I am that his 'bus is apt to secede from itself on th' road any minute!"
Bruce sent Abe away with Tommy. Ann arrived. Twenty minutes before the time set for the simple ceremony Abe brought the clergyman through the big gate of the Circle A with his swinging trot, ears up, head alert, as though with conscious pride.
"The fact is, Bruce, I'd have been late, if Tommy hadn't come after me," Weyl confessed as he dismounted.