Somebody Else.
"So take warnin'. There's that writer-guy, that skunk I poked outside
the Opera House. He's walkin' right in and gettin' thick; and here's
you, just like me, a-racin' round all creation and lettin' matrimony
slide. Mark my words, Corliss! Some fine frost you'll come slippin'
into camp and find 'em housekeepin'. Sure! With nothin' left for you
in life but pocketing!"
The picture was so unpleasant that Corliss turned surly and ordered him
to shut up.
"Who? Me?" Del asked so aggrievedly that Corliss laughed.
"What would you do, then?" he asked.
"Me? In all kindness I'll tell you. As soon as you get back you go
and see her. Make dates with her ahead till you got to put 'em on
paper to remember 'em all. Get a cinch on her spare time ahead so as
to shut the other fellow out. Don't get down in the dirt to
her,--she's not that kind,--but don't be too high and mighty, neither.
Just so-so--savve? And then, some time when you see she's feelin'
good, and smilin' at you in that way of hers, why up and call her hand.
Of course I can't say what the showdown'll be. That's for you to find
out. But don't hold off too long about it. Better married early than
never. And if that writer-guy shoves in, poke him in the
breadbasket--hard! That'll settle him plenty. Better still, take him
off to one side and talk to him.
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