A couple of hours later while the three women were in the cabin preparing supper, Tex, and Endicott, and Cinnabar sat outside and talked and listened to the sounds of laughter that floated through the door.
"Look at old Whiskers comin'," said Tex, indicating a horseman who appeared around the corner of the barn.
Cinnabar chuckled: "Whiskers! Why man, that's yer new dad! That's old Colin McWhorter—an' if you don't make a hit with him, believe me—he'll cut your head off!"
The huge Scotchman dismounted, nodded and addressed Cinnabar Joe: "Ha' ye seen my daughter?" Before Cinnabar could answer the girl herself rushed from the door and threw herself into the big man's arms: "Theer, theer, wee lass, ha' they hurt ye? Ye're face is red like the fire-weed! I'll——"
"No! No! Dad! I'm—so happy! I'm—I'm going to be married tomorrow! I want you to meet my—Mr. Benton—Tex! And, oh Dad—you'll just love him! I knew it was all a mistake—about that horrid hand-bill—here are Mr. and Mrs. Endicott—they know him well—and Cinnabar and his wife have known him for years."
McWhorter stood glaring at Tex who returned him look for look. "Was it for thot I looked after her a' her life—educated her—thot she sh'ud marry a common cowpuncher!"
The Texan stepped directly before him and reaching up a finger tapped the irate man's breast: "Look here, old timer. I'm a common cowpuncher, just as you say—but, at that, I don't take off my hat to any sheep-man! You an' I are goin' to be big friends, once we get strung out. I like you already. I've got you sized up for one of the biggest hearted old specimens on the range. But, at that, you like to get your growl in—an' get it in first. Well—you've growled—an' you haven't fooled no one—nor scairt no one. If you want a little further dope on me here goes. I'm from Texas—come from good enough folks down there so they haven't been able to beat the Old Man for Congress in twenty years. I've be'n somethin' of a black sheep—but the black's wearin' off in spots. I've got as good an education, I reckon, as anyone here—an' a damn sight better one than I need in my business. I walk on my hind legs an' eat with a fork. I've got a job—eighty bucks a month, an' found—foreman of the Y Bar outfit, over across the river. Some day I expect to own an outfit of my own!" He ceased suddenly, and reaching out, drew the girl from her father's arms and held her to his side, "An' last of all—an' as far as I can see, the only thing that really matters—I love this little girl——"
"Losh! Lad!" cried the old Scot, his eyes a-twinkle. "Ye fair talk me off my feet! 'Tis na wonder she took ye—ye ne'er gi' her a chance to say no!"
"Supper's ready!" called Jennie, from the interior of the cabin, and it was a merry company indeed, that filed in and took their places at the table—extended for the occasion by means of planks carried in from Cinnabar's unfinished stable.
"I've just bought an outfit, over on the other side," said Endicott, when the last vestige of Jennie's pies had disappeared from the plates, and the thick cups had been filled with black coffee. "And Cinnabar, do you know where I could find a foreman?"