Bunch Grass Part 33

Jimmie picked up the demijohn and looked at it with lingering eyes.

"Sorry I promised Maw to let whisky alone."

"If it comes to that," said Pete, "what's the matter with callin' it medicine?"

"Gee! So it is." He took out the cork and tipped up the demijohn, balancing it skilfully upon his right forearm.

"Pa.s.s it over," said Pete.

"After you," added Dan.

"Go easy," said Pete shortly. "You two fellers mean to expire in the arms o' ministerin' angels. Leave the demijohn with me."

"What! You'd hog all the medicine? Why, Pete Holloway, I thought you was white!"

"Put that demijohn down."

Dan glanced at Jimmie, who was drawing on his best pants.

"Say, Jimmie, we'll hev to take the medicine along. There's a plenty for Pete in the cellar."

Pete slipped out of his bunk.

"Look ye here," he said. "I ain't goin' to face the Perfessor alone.

I'll come with ye, but let there be no huggin' before me; and, I say, divide the medicine."

"Now yer talkin'," said Dan, approvingly.

The three men dressed rapidly, opened the door, and peered out. n.o.body being in sight, they secured three empty bottles, which they filled with the medicine. Five minutes later they were leading their saddle- horses out of the barn. Un.o.bserved, they mounted and took the road.

"How air you two feelin'?" said Pete, as they broke into an easy "lope."

"Thunder and Mars!" exclaimed Dan. "It's a doggoned fact, but I'm feeling fine."

"It's the medicine," said Jimmie, athirst for more.

"The Perfessor's a stem-winder, an' no mistake," said Pete. "Let's drink his health--onst."

They did so--twice.

Old man Greiffenhagen's was about two miles distant. With him lodged Miss Edna Parkinson and Miss Mary Willing. These young ladies were bosom friends, and members of the Women's Christian Temperance Union.

We describe them adequately enough by adding that they were capable, pretty and good.

By this time it was nearly nine o'clock, but a light shone in the Greiffenhagen parlour. As the young men dismounted and hitched their horses to the fence, the strains from an American organ were heard.

Pete rapped upon the door, which was opened by Greiffenhagen. He kept the village store, which was also the post-office, and, although German himself, had married an American wife. Pete said in a loud voice--

"It's kind o' late, but this is a P.P.C. call."

As he spoke, there was wafted to the nostrils of Greiffenhagen the familiar fragrance of Bourbon. He glanced at Dan and Jimmie. Each appeared almost abnormally sober and solemn. At this moment Miss Mary Willing flitted up.

"Why, it's Mr. Holloway!" she exclaimed stiffly.

The three entered. As they pa.s.sed the threshold, Jimmie stumbled, but recovered himself. He saluted the ladies with decorum, and the three sat down upon the edge of the chairs that were offered to them. Then Miss Edna Parkinson, who was the only person present besides Pete who understood what was meant by a P.P.C. call, and who knew also that, the big _rodeo_ being over, it was possible that the three cowboys had been discharged, said sympathetically--

"You ain't leaving these parts, are you?"

Pete answered grimly: "It's more'n likely that we air."

Edna glanced at Mamie, who was sniffing.

"What is it I smell?" she asked.

"Medicine," said Dan. He knew that Pete, the walking dictionary, could be trusted to break the appalling news to these unhappy girls. He glanced at Mr. Holloway and nodded.

"Yes," said Pete, "you smell medicine. It was prescribed by the distinguished surgeon an' pathologist, Perfessor Adam Chawner."

"Prescribed? Why?"

Once, in the dear dead days that were gone, Pete had owned a best girl, who had treated him ill. Ever since he had exhibited a not too chivalrous desire to "git even" with the fond but fickle s.e.x. Also he had no respect for the W.C.T.U.

"The trouble come o' drinkin' too much water."

"Too much water?"

"We three hev bin wallerin' at a pizoned spring. The Perfessor may pull us through, but it's no cert. Much the contrairy. Likely as not you'll be attendin' our funerals within' the week. Dan and Jimmie tuk a notion that they'd like to forgive ye, an' I come along too because I reckon misery loves company. But I made this stippilation--no huggin' before me, if you please."

"Is he--d-d-drunk?" faltered Edna.

"I'm nearly drunk," said Pete. "This yere pizon is same as rattlesnake pizon. We've got to be kep' filled plum up with whisky." He produced his bottle and placed it carefully upon the floor, then he added: "When I can't help myself, I count on you, old man"--he looked at Greiffenhagen--"to pour it down my throat."

"Dan," said Miss Willing, "can't you say something?"

"I'm razzle-dazzled," said Dan. "But I couldn't die without forgivin'

yer."

"Edna," said Jimmie, with a sob in his voice, "I have no hard feelin's left."

"These three _beasts_," said Mrs. Greiffenhagen, in a hard, unwavering voice, "are disgracefully and unblus.h.i.+ngly intoxicated.

Girls, leave the room!"

The girls looked at each other. Mamie Willing leapt to the situation.

Upon a small marble-topped table reposed an immense family Bible.

Mamie lifted it and approached Pete.

"Swear on this that your terrible story is true."

"I swear," said Pete solemnly, and he kissed the Book. Edna flung herself into Jimmie's arms; Mamie, after replacing the Bible, knelt sobbing at Dan's side. Pete said helplessly to old man Greiffenhagen: "Take me outer this!"