He swung on round, still smiling, a gaunt figure, in his black clothing.
“So,” he finished, “that’s all; git yer pardners.”
In order to do that, as there was so few women, some of the men knotted handkerchiefs round their left arms, to indicate that they were “women”; and the dancing began, as White-eyed Moses struck up one of his lively quadrilles.
The new Mrs. Juniper Joe—no one could remember that even in the ceremony Abercrombie Morris had called him anything but Juniper Joe!—tried to dance with nearly every man there, when they besieged her for that favor; and only gave over the attempt because the fiddler’s arm took a cramp at last, and he stopped fiddling.
The new Mrs. Juniper Joe thus proved that she was certainly of the strenuous type, so far as muscular activity was concerned.
As the dancing ended, and there was a rush for the “refreshments,” a thing occurred which threw every one into a flutter of excitement.
A man who, as it appeared later, had not been invited came in. He was a small, lithe man, with a smooth face, and keen, light-blue eyes; Buffalo Bill had observed him almost as soon as he was in the room, and wondered who he was.
His discovery, close by the door, which was open behind him, brought quick work on the part of the hitherto smiling bridegroom. Juniper Joe’s revolvers bounced out of their hiding places beneath his coat tails, and were fired as soon as he could swing them up; the two reports, one from each revolver, crashing together.