“It’s yours. He gave it to you,” Bob answered, swallowing hard. “For a weddin’ present.”
“Well, I ain’t no pockets. You keep it for me.”
The transfer was accomplished, neither of them looking into the eyes of the other.
Blister Haines, flanked on each side by one of the witnesses, rolled past on his way to the bar of the Bear Cat House. His throat was dry and he proposed to liquidate his unusual exertion. He always celebrated a wedding by taking a few drinks. Any excuse was a good excuse for that. He waved a hand toward the newlyweds in greeting.
Bob answered by lifting his own. He had not taken three drinks in his life, but he felt that he would like one now. It might cheer him up a little.
What in the world was he to do with June? Where could he take her for the night? And after that what would they do? He had not money enough to pay stage fare to get them away. He did not know anybody from whom he could borrow any. Yet even if he found work in Bear Cat, they dared not stay here. Houck would come “rip-raring” down from the hills and probably murder him.
Anyhow, it would not do for him to act as though he were stumped. He managed a smile.
“We’d better take the team to the corral, then go get something to eat, June. I’m sure enough hungry. Ain’t you?”
She nodded. Even to go to the hotel or a restaurant for dinner was an adventure for her, so little of experience had her life offered.
As they walked from the barn to the Bear Cat House, the girl-bride was still dumb. The marriage ceremony had brought home to her the solemnity of what she had done. She had promised to love, honor, and obey this boy, to care for him in sickness and in health, till death came to part them.