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Nat got some absorbent cotton and adhesive plaster. "Been drinking again, hadn't you?" "Yesh," Pete admitted with a leer of drunken cunning. "But she druv me to it." He was quiet for a moment. "Mish'r Duncan," he volunteered cheerfully, "you ain't got no idee how lucky y'are y'aint married." "Is that so?" Nat returned with the dressings. "No idee'tall."
Pete surrendered his head to Nat's ministrations. "'Nd I hope y' won't never have." "But I'm going to be married, Pete." The sheriff assimilated this information and became abruptly intractable. He jerked his head away and swung round in his chair to argue the matter. "Oh, no!" he expostulated. "Don't, Mish'r Duncan. Don't never do it. Take warnin' from me." "But I'm engaged, Pete."
"No, I won't." "Thank Gawd f'r that!" Pete exclaimed in maudlin gratitude. He swung widely toward the door, and by a miracle found it. "G'night, Mish'r Duncan. I feel s' good 'bout thish I'm goin' try goin' home 'nd face m' wife. G'night." "Good-night, Pete." "Well!" said Kellogg after a pause, "that was a bit of luck!" "Luck!" Nat seized his hat and began to turn off the lights.
"You've been saved just in time, Mish'r Duncan," he commented; "y'are mighty lucky man. Now lissen: you better make tracks. I ain't got no warrant to hold you, 'nd I wouldn't if I had." "You're a good fellow, Pete; but you needn't worry. I'm not the man they think me, and it'll be easy to prove." "Wal," said Pete, "jus' the same, you better git out, 'r you may have to marry her aft'all."
"None whatever, Miss Lockwood. Good-evening." "Come, Roland!" Arm in arm they left, with the haughty tread of the elect, while Pete Willing lurched to Duncan's side and caught his arm. "Come 'long to jail, Mish'r Duncan," he said with sympathy. "Mush bessher." "You look after him, Pete." Lockwood turned to leave with a final shot for Duncan.
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