“And she’d sure have a bloody bridegroom,” declared Horan. “I’ve seen the finish of a few knife fights. Why not leave it to the padre?”
“That’s the stuff,” agreed Baldy. “You pick the winner, old priest. Look ’em over and see which one would make the best husband for a girl.”
“Not without an understanding,” said the priest. “What was meant by saying that the girl was stolen?”
“Aw, that was a joke,” said Kohler. “Everythin’ is all right, Father Francisco.”
“But has the girl no choice in the matter?”
“Well,” laughed Baldy, “it kinda looks like Torres was goin’ to marry her, until along comes Gonzales and smears things. If the girl wants Torres, she’ll have Torres, I reckon. Hey! Steve! Bring out the bride. We’ll find out who she wants.”
Guadalupe opened the trap and went down the short flight of stairs, while they opened more liquor and joked about the coming nuptials. The priest looked on gravely, wondering what he should do under the circumstances.
Lucy, the old squaw, was first up the ladder, followed closely by Wanna. Guadalupe came up behind them, but did not close the trap. Jack Meline started toward them, but his father drew him back.
“Oh, this is a rotten deal!” declared Jack hotly.
He was not so drunk that he did not realize what it meant.