The Colorado sheriff bows with the grace of a Chesterfield, and a chorus of feminine voices arises:
“Oh, Colonel Rocket, Mr. Cereal has just been telling us about the time you rescued a lovely maiden from the Indians who raided the border. He was unable to finish the romance and sent us to you. What became of Mary?”
The colonel’s eyes twinkle.
“Oh! she married a worthless scamp out in Denver afterward, and I reckon has been sorry for it ever since,” he says nonchalantly.
A chorus of indignant exclamations arises.
“It was a shame—after you risked your life to save her!”
The colonel, as they flit away like a bevy of butterflies, turns to Aleck and adds dryly:
“Mary is my wife.”
At this the Canadian bursts out laughing.
“Why didn’t you say so, then?”