ied alcoves, nooks, and corners about the
grounds. On retiring for the night, the men yielded the house to the
women guests, sleeping on the upper and lower verandas, while the ranger
contingent, scorning beds or shelter, unrolled their blankets under the
spreading live-oaks in the yard.

But the real interest centred in the marriage of Fidel and Juana, which
took place at six o'clock the following evening. Every one, including
the native element, repaired to the new chapel to attend the wedding.
Uncle Lance and his sister had rivaled each other as to whether man or
maid should have the better outfit. Fidel was physically far above the
average of the natives, slightly bow-legged, stolid, and the coolest
person in the church. The bride was in quite a flutter, but having been
coached and rehearsed daily by her mistress, managed to get through the
ordeal. The young priest performed the ceremony, using his own native
tongue, the rich, silvery accents of Spanish. At the conclusion of the
service, every one congratulated the happy couple, the women and girls
in tears, the sterner sex without demonstration of feeling. When we were
outside the chapel, and waiting for our sweethearts to dry their tears
and join us, Uncle Lance came swaggering' over to John Cotton and me,
and, slapping us both on the back, said:--

"Boys, that rascal of a Fidel has a splendid nerve. Did you notice how
he faced the guns without a tremor; never batted an eye but took his
medicine like a little man. I hope both of you boys will show equally
good nerve when your turn comes. Why, I doubt if there was a ranger in
the whole squad, unless it was that red-headed rascal who kissed the
bride, who would have stood the test like that vaquero--without a
shiver. And it's something you can't get used to. Now, as you all know,
I've been married three times. The first two times I was as cool as
most, but the third whirl I trembled all over. Quavers ran through me,
my tongue was palsied, my teeth chattered, my knees knocked together,
and I felt like a man that was sent for and couldn't go. Now, mind you,
it was the third time and I was only forty-five."

What a night that was! The contents of the warehouse had been shifted,
native musicians had come up from Santa Maria, and every one about
the home ranch who could strum a guitar was pressed into service. The
storeroom was given over to the natives, and after honoring the occasion
with their presence as patrons, t