case of wine, now
a basket of lemons and pineapples. Besides general supervision, he had
elected to assume the responsibility of composing the punch--something
stiff, by jingo, a punch that would raise you right out of your boots; a
regular hairlifter.

The harness room of the barn he had set apart for: himself and
intimates. He had brought a long table down from the house and upon
it had set out boxes of cigars, bottles of whiskey and of beer and
the great china bowls for the punch. It would be no fault of his, he
declared, if half the number of his men friends were not uproarious
before they left. His barn dance would be the talk of all Tulare County
for years to come. For this one day he had resolved to put all thoughts
of business out of his head. For the matter of that, things were going
well enough. Osterman was back from Los Angeles with a favourable
report as to his affair with Disbrow and Darrell. There had been another
meeting of the committee. Harran Derrick had attended. Though he had
taken no part in the discussion, Annixter was satisfied. The Governor
had consented to allow Harran to "come in," if he so desired, and
Harran had pledged himself to share one-sixth of the campaign expenses,
providing these did not exceed a certain figure.

As Annixter came to the door of the barn to shout abuse at the
distraught Chinese cook who was cutting up lemons in the kitchen, he
caught sight of Presley and Vanamee and hailed them.

"Hello, Pres," he called. "Come over here and see how she looks;" he
indicated the barn with a movement of his head. "Well, we're getting
ready for you tonight," he went on as the two friends came up. "But
how we are going to get straightened out by eight o'clock I don't know.
Would you believe that pip Caraher is short of lemons--at this last
minute and I told him I'd want three cases of 'em as much as a month
ago, and here, just when I want a good lively saddle horse to get around
on, somebody hikes the buckskin out the corral. STOLE her, by jingo.
I'll have the law on that thief if it breaks me--and a sixty-dollar
saddle 'n' head-stall gone with her; and only about half the number of
Jap lanterns that I ordered have shown up and not candles enough for
those. It's enough to make a dog sick. There's nothing done that you
don't do yourself, unless you stand over these loafers with a club. I'm
sick of the whole business--and I've lost my hat; wish to God I'd never
dreamed of givin' this rot