“Howly Moses,” cried Barney. “And have I to furnish the music for this mane weddin’ party?”
“That’s the size of it,” said Snorter.
“I reckon,” said the bridegroom.
“And what’s the pay?” humorously asked the fearless Irishman.
The bridegroom turned to him with a jolly laugh.
“You’re a happy-minded sort o’ Irish galoot,” he said, “and I don’t mind a little favor if you try to make my little blow-out as bang-up as possible. You jest do your level best for me and the woman; grind out yer best music, and don’t cut out any of the figures to cut down on the ball, and when the thing is all over I’ll mount yer on a good hoss, gin yer two days’ provisions and a gun, and set yer free.”
“What’s yer name?” cried Barney.
“Cheeky Charley.”
“Thin by me soul, Cheeky Charley, it’s meself that will play ye chunes to make yer blood lape through the cockles of yer heart. Ye’re a dacint man, and ye know how to dale wid a distinguished prisoner of war, and I’ll do the square thing by ye.”
“You do and you’ll ride away a happy man,” said Cheeky Charley.