“Preacher ain’t here yet?” asked Jim, drawing out a huge silver watch. “It’s almost eight o’clock.”
“Oh, he’ll be here,” assured Aunt Emma. “Peggy looks beautiful, Jim.”
“Uh-huh.” The big man seemed a trifle sad.
“You don’t seem to mind losin’ yore daughter, Jim,” said Mrs. West. “I remember when Sally got married; Buck cried.”
“Prob’ly drunk,” said Jim unfeelingly.
“Well, I like that, Jim Wheeler!”
A vision in white came down the stairs and halted near the bottom. It was Laura Hatton, the Easterner, who had come to Pinnacle City to attend the wedding of her old school chum. Laura was a tiny little blonde with big blue eyes and a laughing mouth which dismayed every cowboy in the Tumbling River country—except Honey Bee, who had been christened James Edward Bee.
“Wouldn’t you ladies like to come up and see the bride?” she asked. “She’s just simply a dream. Why, if I looked as pretty in wedding clothes as Peggy does, I’d turn Mormon.”
Jim Wheeler watched them go up the stairs and heard their exclamations of astonishment. Out in the kitchen an improvised quartet was singing “Wait till the clouds roll by, Jennie.” Jim Wheeler shook his head sadly.
“Don’t seem to mind losin’ your daughter,” he muttered.