“He did.” Scott explained the situation in regard to Polly. “Her people are anxious about her and wrote her to come back at once, so we’re carrying out instructions. The other folks——” Scott paused and surveyed the sheriff with an eye that twinkled. “Are you good at keeping secrets, Sam?” he said.
“Well, I have kept ’em,” replied Sam, modestly.
“Well, the lady is a widow, runs a ranch down South, and the tall chap is our chief engineer, a Boston man. They’re up here to get spliced before she goes East.”
“So! Well, no reason why they shouldn’t, I s’pose?”
“None that I know of.”
“I kind of had a hunch ’twas her and you when you got out of the car, Marc.”
“Me!”
“Yes. You needn’t blush. You ain’t too old to think of settlin’ down if you pick a woman that ain’t too young and giddy for you.”
“I’m not asking your advice on matrimony, you old fool, I’m asking if you’ve got anybody in this one-horse place who can marry folks legally,” said Marc, touchily.
“The judge could, I guess, but in a case like this there’d be more tone to it if you had the Padre. We haven’t got any Protestant fellow here just now,” replied Penhallow, meditatively.