s tocelebrate the occasion.Sundown Ranch was sonorous with the cracking of jokes and sixshooters, the shine ofbuckles and bright eyes, the outspoken congratulations of the herders of kine.But while the wedding feast was at its liveliest there descended upon it Johnny MeRoy,bitten by jealousy, like one possessed."I'll give you a Christmas present," he yelled, shrilly, at the door, with his .45 in hishand. Even then he had some reputation as an offhand shot.His first bullet cut a neat underbit in Madison Lane's right ear. The barrel of his gunmoved an inch. The next shot would have been the bride's had not Carson, a sheepman,possessed a mind with triggers somewhat well oiled and in repair. The guns of thewedding party had been hung, in their belts, upon nails in the wall when they sat attable, as a concession to good taste. But Carson, with great promptness, hurled his plateof roast venison and frijoles at McRoy, spoiling his aim. The second bullet, then, onlyshattered the white petals of a Spanish dagger flower suspended two feet above Rosita'shead.The guests spurned their chairs and jumped for their weapons. It was considered animproper act to shoot the bride and groom at a wedding. In about six seconds there weretwenty or so bullets due to be whizzing in the direction of Mr. McRoy.
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