I lingered here some time, for there is much to see, then turned my steps towards my inn through the city.
‘Say—Cap’en—here—hold on!’
I turned, and saw a man in a one-horse dray, whipping up his horse, and violently gesticulating for me to stop. He soon came up, and jumping out of the dray, seized my hand, and shook it with a grip that made my very eyes water.
‘Guess you ain’t acquainted with this child?’
I said no; I had not the pleasure of knowing him.
‘I spotted you, Cap’en, just as soon as ever I seed you making tracks down the street. My gal Car’line told me how she put you through all the dance last night.’
It suddenly flashed upon me that the drayman was my partner’s papa. Here’s a lively affair! If he does not ask me my intentions, and riddle me with a six-shooter if I refuse to marry his ‘gal’ at once, I shall deem myself the most fortunate of men. I civilly said, in reply, that I found his daughter a most admirable partner.
‘I rather guess you did, Cap’en; she’s all watch-spring and whalebone, she is; can’t skeer up a smarter gal than “Car” in these parts, if you was to do your darndest. She! why, she’s worth her weight in nuggets to the man as gets her.’
I felt cold all over—I thought it was coming. ‘You must excuse me,’ I said; ‘my breakfast is waiting, and I daresay we shall meet again.’ (I knew this was an awful twister.)
‘I’m sure we shall, Cap’en. Let’s licker:’ so we adjourned to the nearest bar-room and took an ‘eye-opener,’ and so I escaped from the drayman. I drew a deep breath, and felt as if I had got clear from the claws of a grizzly bear—made for the inn as fast as I could, gobbled up a hasty breakfast, packed up my goods, and with my guide started for my camp.