“Billy, she’s eloping with you,” I said. “She’s not going to want me along. I think I better just stay here.”

Billy looked completely surprised.

“Don’t you want to go?” he asked. “Snow won’t care, as long as you don’t act too jealous.”

“I think she might,” I said. “I certainly wouldn’t want to anger her, either.”

Billy looked genuinely confused. I think he had taken it for granted that I would be part of his honeymoon entourage.

“But I’ve forgotten how to talk to her,” he said. “What if she’s changed her mind and don’t want to go? Then what’ll I do?”

“What any man has to do when a woman changes her mind,” I said. “Either accept it or see if you can change it back.”

Billy seemed almost panicked by the thought that I wouldn’t be along to ease his way with Cecily.

“We’re going to Chicago,” he said. “She says we’ll stay in grand hotels. Don’t you even want to see Chicago and stay in them grand hotels?”

“I’ve been to Chicago several times,” I said. “It’s a fine city. The two of you will do nicely there without me.”

Billy seemed stumped, but not angry. He struggled onto his horse and sat looking at me, a sad look on his bumpy young face.

“I sure never thought you’d end up in Greasy Corners, Sippy,” he said. “Snow will get a laugh out of that. She thinks you’re too fancy as it is, but this sure ain’t as fancy a place as Chicago, from all I hear.”

“No, it doesn’t approach Chicago,” I admitted, looking at the miserable hovels that made up the town.

“I guess I’ll just tell her you were too jealous,” he said. Then he turned and loped out of town.

4.

Travel with Billy was interesting, but no one would claim it was relaxing. When he rode away that morning I discovered I was far too tired to contemplate immediate travel. I found a spade and spent an hour shoveling out one of the abandoned huts; I knocked down a wasp’s nest or two and displaced a great many scorpions and spiders, but when I finished, the hut was a fair place to nap, and I napped—much of that day, as well as healthy portions of the next three.

I bathed frequently in the cool Pecos, and in the evening wandered over to the cantina to play cards with Dewey Sharp and Waco Charlie; the latter extended generous credit. Des Montaignes had fallen in love with Dot the whore, and the two seldom appeared, but La Tulipe dispensed his whiskey liberally and often took a hand at cards.