"What business are you in?" Lyman asked.
"Mules; nothing but mules. Oh, well, occasionally I handle a horse or so, but I make a specialty of buying and selling mules. Good deal of money in it, I tell you. McElwin used to do something in that line himself. Yes, sir, and he paid me a mighty high compliment the other day—he said I was about as good a judge of mules as he ever saw, and that, coming from a man as careful as he is, was mighty high praise, I tell you. Helloa, what's up?"
From the family sitting room had come a roar and a noise like the upsetting of chairs. And into the parlor rushed McElwin, followed by his wife, Staggs, Mrs. Staggs, and the white and terrified Miss Annie.
"A most damnable outrage!" McElwin shouted, making straight for Lyman. "I mean you, sir," he cried, shaking his fist at Lyman. "You, sir. You try to bunco me and now you conspire with an imbecile to humble me into the dust. I mean you, sir. You have married my daughter. That fool is an ordained preacher, and your sockless legislature did away with marriage licenses."
Lyman looked about and saw Miss Eva faint in her mother's arms; he saw terror in the faces about him, and his cheek felt the hot breath of Sawyer's rage. He stepped back, for the banker's hand was at his throat.
"Pardon me," he said, with a quietness that struck the company with a becalming awe. "Pardon me, but I did not know that there was any conspiracy. Is there a doctor present? If there's not, send for one to attend the young lady."
Some one ran out. McElwin stood boiling with fury. Sawyer thrust forth his hand. Lyman knocked it up. "I will not step back for you," he said. "I have committed no outrage and I am not here to be insulted and pounced upon. Mr. McElwin, you ought to have sense enough to look calmly upon this unfortunate joke." He turned, attracted by a wail from Mrs. McElwin. Again he addressed the banker, now not so furious as awkwardly embarrassed. "They were playing and the young lady was to go through the marriage ceremony with the first man to enter the room, a common farce hereabouts, as you know; and I was the first man to enter. Don't blame me for a playful custom, or the action of a populist legislature."
"That may be all true, sir, but how could you presume, even in fun, to stand up with her? How is she?" he demanded, turning toward a woman who had just come from a room whither they had taken the "bride."
"Oh, she is all right. She was more scared than hurt."
He gave her a look of contempt, as if he had been hit with a sarcasm; and then he addressed himself to Lyman. "I ask, sir, how you could presume to stand up with her?"