"Oh, I see! Anita?"
"Well, I sure ain't goin' to call on her ma—she's married a'ready."
Despite himself, Corliss smiled. "So that's what you wanted that new bed and table and the chairs for. Did they get marked up much coming in?"
"The legs some. I rubbed 'em with that hoss-liniment you give me. You can hardly tell. It kind of smelled like turpentine, and I didn't have nothin' else."
"Well, anything you want—"
"I know, boss. But this is goin' to be a quiet weddin'. No brass-bands or ice-cream or pop-corn or style. Just me and her and—and I reckon a priest, seein' she was brung up that way. I ain't asked her yet."
"What? About getting married, or the priest?"
"Nothin'. We got kind of a eye-understandin' and her ma and me is good friends. It's like this. Bein' no hand to do love-makin' stylish, I just passes her a couple of bouquets onct or twict and said a few words. Now, you see, if I get that buckboard and a couple of hosses—I sure would like the white ones—and drive over lookin' like business and slip the ole man a box of cigars I bought, and Mrs. Miguel that there red-and-yella serape I paid ten dollars for in Antelope, and show Anita me new contract with the Concho for pumpin' water for seventy-five bones a month, I reckon the rest of it'll come easy. I'm figurin' strong on them white hosses, likewise. Bein' white'll kind of look like gettin' married, without me sayin' it. You see, boss, I'm short on the Spanish talk and so I have to do some figurin'."
"Well, Sun, you have come along a lot since you first hit the Concho! Go ahead, and good luck to you! If you need any money—"
"I was comin' to that. Seein' as you kind of know me—and seein' I'm goin' to git hitched—I was thinkin' you might lend me mebby a hundred on the contrac'."