witnessing another disappointment, vanished, and thereby earned the diner's gratitude. For the first touch of the knife had told him that the meat was incredibly tough, even to one accustomed to camp-fare on the range.
'This would shorely tear the teeth out'n a circular saw,' he murmured, as he hacked and slashed.
But he was determined to eat it, and by the application of sheer muscular power, and at the risk of breaking both knife and plate, he contrived to sever fragments which heswallowed almost unchewed, to the future discomfort of his internal economy; the unshed tears in those brown eyes should not fall if he could help it. He had almost completed the sacrifice when the Widow--unable to bear the suspense any longer--came in.
'Is it--all right?' she asked tremulously.
The martyr bolted the last lump whole and told the truth. 'I never ate a steak like it, ma'am.' The smile which lit up her face reminded him of the sun suddenly emerging from rain-laden clouds. 'I'm so glad,' she said. 'I hope my pastry will be as good.' It had been in the customer's mind to decline anything more than the plea that he had already eaten enough but, with inward misgiving, he tackled the wedge of dried-apple pie she placed before him. It proved to be delicious, and she watched delightedly while he devoured every morsel.
'Pie like mother made,' he complimented, and this time no subtlety was needed. 'Ma'am, yu certainly can handle flour.' He paid the modest score and left her happy. Strolling casually along the street, he paused at the emporium of Welcome's only butcher, one Cleaver, universally referred to as 'Clever,' a sarcastic contortion which reflected upon his intelligence.
'I've been feedin' at the Widow Gray's,' the marshal opened. 'Whyfor do yu sell yore beef with the hide on?' The man stared at him. 'I don't,' he replied. 'Sell the skins separate.' Then, as the implication dawned upon him, 'If you get hard meat it's 'cause she can't cook.'
'Now I wonder who told yu that?' the marshal mused. 'Did I see Toler here a while back?' The butcher's face contradicted the too hasty denial. 'Well, I must get some better glasses. I'd 'a' sworn '
'Now I think again, he did stop as he was passin',' Cleaver corrected, but the other appeared to have lost interest in Mister Toler's movements.
'Mrs. Gray is a good cook, but the finest in the world couldn't make boot-leather appetizin',' he remarked. 'Yu supply Mullins, don't you?'
'Yeah, but I don't play favourites.'
'Shore, but it would help him if got the prime cuts an' she on'y had the leavin's,' the marshal reflected aloud. He saw that he had hit the mark, and added meaningly, 'I'm aimin' to feed reg'lar at the Widow's, an' my teeth ain't made o' steel. Understan'?'
'I can fix that by sendin' her a special for you,' the tradesman said eagerly.
'Fix nothin'--yu don't play favourites--an' I ain't askin' yu to. Yu'll make 'em all specials.'
'But Jake's my biggest buyer.'
'Mrs. Gray'll be that soon, an' if she don't get good meat in future, I'll have to go into the butcherin' husiness my own self.' On the following morning, soon after noon, Sudden contrived to meet Toler on his way to the eating- house. With a surly look, the man would have brushed past, but the officer stopped him.
'Jake'll have to do without yore custom to-day,' he said. 'Yo're feedin' at the Widow's.'
'Like hell I am,' was the retort. 'I've had some.'
'An' left without payin', which is dishonest.'
'I didn't eat nothin'.'
'yu bent that steak considerable--just naturally ruined it, in fact,' the marshal said gravely.
'Bent it, yeah, an' that was hard to do,' Toler replied. 'A dawg couldn't 'a' got teeth into it.'
'Which accounts for yore failure. Anyways, yu ordered a meal an' she supplied one; what yu do with it is yore affair. Yu likewise caused a ruckus an' come near bustin' a chair, thus committin' a breach o' the peace. Now, either yu apologize, pay for that meal an' eat another, or, well, the calaboose is empty an' I'm afraid yu'll find it lonesome.'
'I'll see you '
'Resistin' the law--that entitles me to blow yore light out,' the marshal said. 'March.' The badgered man's eyes bulged; in some mysterious manner one of the speaker's guns had leapt from its holster and was pointed at the pit of his stomach. If the thumb holding back the hammer was relaxed--the marshal had no use for triggers. . Toler did not pursue the thought. The lady's eyes widened when they entered, but her welcoming smile was for both.
'Mister Toler figures he was a mite hasty in his judgment; I've persuaded him to give yu another trial,' Sudden explained.
Nothing more was said until the business of feeding was finished, and then the unwilling customer sat back with a sigh of satisfaction.
'That's the best feed I've had in years, an' I'm right sorry I was rude to you, ma'am,' he said. 'I expect I did oughta blamed yore butcher.' The little woman's face flushed with pleasure. 'Please don't say another word,' she begged. 'Perhaps it was conceit, but I did think I could prepare a meal.'
'I'll wallop the linin' out'n any fella who sez different,' he told her.
In the street, the convert pushed out a paw and said gruffly, 'Marshal, I'm thankin' you. Fur as I'm concerned, Jake must do his own dirty work.'
'That's good hearin',' Sudden replied. 'Persecutin' a woman is somethin' Welcome won't stand for.' Later in the afternoon Sloppy came into the office wearing a broad grin. 'What you done to Toler?' he asked. 'Yestiddy he was tellin' the world Mrs. Gray couldn't cook an' now he sez she's the best ever.'
'Why put it on to me? Can't a fella change his mind without my help?' Sudden fenced. 'Some folks is fussy 'bout food, 'specially if their livers ain't actin' right.'
'Meanin' no offence, yo're a pore liar,' Sloppy replied. 'You oughta see Jake's face.'
'Sooner see his back, any time,' the marshal said.
He was very satisfied with the way things were going. If Toler, one of her rival's intimates, spoke in her praise, the Widow would get support. It was working out better than he had hoped.
As the days went by, the fame of the new eating-place grew, and Mullins had the mortification of seeing his customers drop away until only a handful of friends remained. Well aware to whom he owed this state of affairs, he vainly sought a means of striking back. He had sent to verify what he had been told of the marshal, but his messenger had not yet returned. His attempt to bully the butcher failed dismally.
The climax came when Reddy and his bunkie, Shorty, rode in and were promptly convoyed by the marshal to the new establishment. While the meal was in preparation, they were permitted to tiptoe into the bedroom to see the baby. The pudgy, red-faced, blue-eyed morsel of humanity regarded them stolidly.
'What is it?' Shorty wanted to know.
' `It' indeed,' the mother repeated, with pretty indignation. 'It's a boy.' And then laughed at her own slip.
Reddy thrust out a thumb and the infant's tiny fingers closed on it. 'He'll shore be a go-getter, ma'am,' the cowboy said. 'What's his name?'
'David, after my father.' The marshal's face clouded. 'I knowed a Dave--once,' he said. 'Them steaks must be mighty close to done.' An hour later, three fully-fed men stepped again into the street. The cowboys were loud in their approval.
Jake's savage eyes watched them enter the Red Light. This was the final blow. Hitherto, the Bar O boys had always given their patronage, but now ... A tempest of passion possessed and made him reckless. When the cowboys came out and were crossing the street, he met them; the marshal had stayed behind a moment, talking to Nippert.
'Ain't you fellas fed yet?' Mullins began.'Shore, over at the Widow's,' Reddy replied.
'Her cookin' is bad.'
'If that's so, an' it ain't, yu never oughta touch a pan,' Shorty said hluntly.
Jake gave him an ugly look, but the man he burned to quarrel with was now joining them. 'So the marshal raked you in, huh?' he sneered. 'He shore knows how to fill his pockets at the expense of his friends.'
'Meanin'?' Reddy asked.
'That he's back o' the Widow, o' course. She does the work an' he corrals the coin, sorta sleepin'-pardner, in more ways than one.' He chuckled at the vile aspersion. 'An' there's others, even that bum, Sloppy ' He got no further. One long stride, a lightning blow, and the traducer was hurled headlong. The marshal's eyes were
