CHAPTER XXV
Meet the Wife

Into the ranch yard of the X Bar X rode ten men—ten tired, dusty, but triumphant men. Their job had been done. Every Durham had been driven all the way from Whirlpool River Ranch to their own range, and once more safely enclosed within their own fences. The long journey was completed. They were home again.

The whole ranch turned out to welcome them. Mrs. Manley, her eyes shining with happiness, walked down the steps of the porch. A moment later the front door opened again, and Belle Ada, Ethel and Nell came rushing out.

“Hello, Dad!” Belle called shrilly. “Hello, Roy! Climb down off that bronco and give your sister a kiss, Teddy!”

“I’ll think it over,” Teddy laughed, and slid off his pony. “Hello, Mother! Back again as good as new!”

Ethel Carew and Nell Willis were frankly delighted to see the boys again. They demanded the story of the trip “with complete details,” as Ethel said, and sat with wide-eyed fascination as the story was related.

Teddy insisted on telling of Roy’s fight with the eagle, though he had not seen it, because he said “Roy was too modest.” It lost none of its excitement by his recital.

Mrs. Manley was anxious to learn if any one was injured, but her husband, with a wink at the boys, asked her if she ever heard of any one getting hurt at a picnic.

“Of course, sometimes they fall into the brook an’ get wet,” he added, with a grin, “so Teddy an’ Roy had to do that, too. But we’re all home now, an’ hungry. Think we can stop this gab-fest long enough to eat?”

It was then three o’clock in the afternoon, so Mrs. Manley decided to have an early supper. She went to help Mrs. Moore, the housekeeper, and her daughter Norine prepare the meal, while Teddy and Roy continued the tale of their adventures at the urgent request of Nell and of Curly.

By five o’clock all was in readiness for the adventurers’ first meal since their arrival home. When they entered the long dining room, they saw that the table had been enlarged by the addition of many leaves and that there were places set for every one of the punchers.

“Celebration,” Mrs. Manley said, as she smiled. “Teddy, go and tell the boys to come in. And don’t forget Sing Lung. We want everybody! Tell every man on the place to come!”

“You bet I will, Mom!” Teddy shouted, and made for the door. In a few minutes he was back, followed by a crowd of grinning, jostling cowboys. Jules Kolto had recovered sufficiently to return with them, and he, of course, was included in the invitation, although he protested that “he wasn’t fit to eat with honest folks.”

Pop Burns was there, with his shoulder conspicuously bandaged. He was accorded the place of honor—next to the boss. Sing Lung, chatting like a parrot, was placed near Jules. Teddy and Roy sat on either side of their mother, while Belle, Ethel, and Nell were distributed about “to keep the boys from scrappin’ over the chicken,” Mr. Manley laughingly insisted.

The punchers were a bit bashful at first to be eating in “the big house,” but this soon wore off. There are few punchers who stay bashful in the presence of roast chicken and cranberry sauce. There was but one fly in the ointment. Gus Tripp was not there. Holding in his hand a glass of water, Mr. Manley arose.

“Boys,” he said, “I want to propose a toast—that right, Mother?—I want to propose a toast to an absent member. Fellers, here’s to Gus Tripp—may he some day come back to us!”

Nick Looker, who was sitting next to Teddy, jumped to his feet.

“Wait, boss!” he exclaimed. “Don’t drink it yet! I been waitin’ fer this! Hang on to yore seats a minute!” and he ran out of the door toward the yard. Roy and Teddy looked at each other with surprised faces. What was Nick up to, for Pete’s sake?

They saw in a moment. The door flew open, and on the threshold stood Gus, not alone, but holding by the hand a blushing girl!

“Boss,” he said, “meet the wife!”

Jules Kolto started. He staggered to his feet, trembling.

“Sister!” he cried, and opened his arms to the girl.

“Jules!” She rushed to him, sobbing and laughing at the same time. “Jules! You here? Oh, Jules, I thought I’d never see you again!”

Gus stood as though turned to stone.

“What—what—” he stammered.

“Oh, Gus, this is my brother!” the blushing young wife cried, and running to him pulled him forward by the hand. “My brother, Gus! Don’t you understand?”

“Well, not very good—” Gus muttered, then his face cleared and he thrust out his hand. “Joe,” he said, “I don’t know what this is all about, but if she’s yore sister, shake! We’re brother-in-laws.”

“Brothers-in-law,” Bug Eye corrected. “The plural here takes the possessive case.”

“Gus,” Mr. Manley said haltingly, “so yore back? Son, I’m glad! Put ’er there! I’m sorry I—”

“Boss!” Gus interrupted, “you needn’t be sorry for nothin’. It was all my fault—the whole blame thing. But, boss, see what it got me—ain’t she a beauty?” And he looked at his wife proudly.

“She sure is, Gus! Now let’s get this thing straight. Nick Looker—where is that bowlegged wild man? Where’d you find Gus, Nick?”

“He wandered back two days after Teddy an’ Roy left,” Nick chuckled. “He’d been all the way to Togas, Mexico, an’ got married—You tell it, Gus!”

“Well, boss, it was this way,” Gus began, as he gripped an arm of Teddy and Roy affectionately. “You know I was worried about not gettin’ no letters from the lady here—I mean my wife,” and he blushed. “You know, Teddy—I told you about it. Gee, ain’t it funny to have a wife? Well, she didn’t write for a long time, so I got worried, an’ started to—do some things I shouldn’t. I thought she’d threw me down.”

“But, Gus, I did write, every day!” his wife interrupted.

“Sure she did!” Nick burst out. “Gus, that dumb postmaster down at Eagles mislaid the letters! I got ’em now in my bunk—a whole raft of ’em!”

“You have? Well, I’m a ring-tailed doodle bird!” Gus said slowly, and sat down. “An’ I went an’ got sick, almost, with worry, an’ let the cattle stray ’cause I went to town an’ got drunk, an’ all this happened because the postmaster lost my letters! Can—you—beat—that?”

“Golly, Teddy, he’s right!” Roy exclaimed. “Snakes, it’s just like a story! We went up Whirlpool River—got tipped over—found The Pup—had the fight with the rustlers—everything—all on account of some missing letters! Golly, that’s funny! If Gus had gotten those letters he never would have neglected the cattle, would you, Gus?”

“Nope, not me! I hardly knew what I was doin’, I was so worried. I thought you was dead, or somethin’,” and he felt bashfully for his wife’s hand. When he caught it, after not much trouble, he went on:

“An’ that’s the way it was. So I heads fer Togas, after the boss lets me out, an’ goes straight fer the little girl here. So we gets hitched an’ come home!”

“You did come home, Gus,” Mr. Manley murmured. “This is your home from now on!”

“Oh, Dad, isn’t this too romantic for words!” Belle Ada burst out. “And all this happened because the letters Mrs. Tripp sent were mislaid! But, Gus, didn’t you know your wife was Joe Marino’s sister?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Nope! That’s one too many for me, even now. His name’s Marino, an’ hers is—I mean was—Kolto. I don’t see—”

“Gus, if you do any more thinkin’ you’ll get a headache!” Mr. Manley exclaimed, laughing loudly. Then he clapped his re-engaged cowboy on the back. “Pull up that chair an’ dive into this here roast chicken! Now, boys, I’ll drink that toast I started—here’s to Mr. and Mrs. Tripp. May they live long an’ happy an’ never have more than one scrap a day!”

“Bardwell!” Mrs. Manley chided, and smiled. “I’m sure Gus and his wife won’t have one single dispute as long as they’re married!”

“Well, I don’t reckon we will either; hey, honey?” Gus exclaimed, and glanced at his wife lovingly. “Boss, you ought to see this little girl ride. I want to match her with Teddy some day. Honestly, boss, she—”

“Gus, sit down!” his wife, her face pink, pulled his arm. “They don’t want to hear all that.”

“Sure we do!” Roy declared. “Jules, you sit over next to your sister. I guess Sing Lung won’t mind if you leave him. Will you, Sing?”

“Me no min’ anyt’ing! Me happy—Me likee loast chickee velly, velly much! You glandflather—him do too,” and he proceeded to test the capacity of his mouth.

“He means so does your old man—an’ he’s right, at that!” Mr. Manley laughed. “Sing Lung, you’re not gettin’ ahead of the boss at chicken eatin’!”

Jules Kolto, a happy smile on his face, took the place Roy had indicated. He had forgotten entirely about his wound, and with good reason. This was his sister—the girl he had stolen for—the girl he had traveled many weary, long miles for, only to have the money, for which he had sacrificed so much, taken from him and himself left to wander three days without food, until he had found Mr. Manley. This was the girl—here, sitting beside him! No wonder he held his head high, no wonder his eyes sparkled!

Gus, pulling his chair close to his wife, obeyed the instruction of the boss to “dive in.” But his eating ability was somewhat hampered by the fact that he used only one hand. The other was elsewhere engaged—as was his wife’s.

All these friends we shall meet again in the next volume, to be called “The X Bar X Boys on Big Bison Trail.”

Of course Teddy and Roy will be there—in fact, very much in evidence. But now watch them at the table, surrounded by the boys who had been their companions in many adventures. Teddy is holding up a drum-stick from which the meat has been cleanly picked and waving it around his head.

“As our friend Shakespeare said,” he exclaimed, “the world is a stage—an’ I’m glad I got a ring-side seat!”

“I’ve got,” came from Bug Eye. “The plural takes the possessive case.”

“Sink him! He’s got that Fishmobile of his on the brain, an’ he’s seein’ double!” Pop Burns called out. “Roy, you get him to race his Fishmobile against Star—an’ I’ll bet your bronc wins; hey?”

Roy looked around at him and grinned. Then he took a deep breath, reached for a chicken wing, and said:

“I’ll tell a maverick!”