Just then, in she come,--pompydore stickin' up like a hay-stack. The railroad bunch, they give a cheer. Huh!
I got outen that winda and onto my feet. "Judge," I calls, puttin' up one hand to show him who was a-talkin', "here's _eight_ dollars fer you' rat-pizen. And you can chalk down forty votes fer Miss Macie Sewell."
Say! cain't you hear them Bar Y punchers?--"_Yip! yip! yip! yip! yip! yip! ye-e-e!_" A-course all the _other_ punchers, they hollered, too. And whilst we was yellin', that tenderfoot from Noo York was a-jabberin' to Macie, mad like, and scowlin' over my way. And she? Wal, she was laughin', and blushin', and shakin' that pretty haid of hern--at _me!_
I was so _ex_cited I didn't know whether I was a-foot 'r a-hoss-back. But I knowed enough to _buy,_ all right. Wal, that medicine went like hotcakes! I blowed _my_self, and Hairoil blowed _his_-self, and the Bar Y boys cleaned they pockets till the bottles was piled up knee-high byside the benches. And whilst we shelled out, the Judge kept on a-goin' like he'd been wound up--"Here's _another_ feller that wants Root-ee! and here's another over on this side! And, lady, it'll be good fer you, too, _yas,_ ma'am. The Blackfoot Injun Rootee, my friends, the Pain Balm, the Cough Balsam, the Magic Salve, and the Worm Destroyer,--the fi-i-ive remedies fer two dollars!"
When I come to, a little bit later on, the hall was just about empty, and Hairoil was pullin' me by the arm to git me to move. I looked 'round fer Macie Sewell. She was gone, and so was the Doc and Billy Trowbridge and Rose and Up-State. Outside, right under my window, I ketched sight of a white dress a-goin' past. It was her. "Macie," I whispers to myself; "Macie Sewell."
That night, I couldn't sleep. I was upset kinda, and just crazy with thinkin' how I'd help her to win out. And I made up my mind t' this: If more votes come in fer Mollie Brown than they did fer the gal that _oughta_ have 'em, why, I'd just shove a gun under that Judge's nose and tell him to "count 'em over and _count 'em right._" 'Cause, I figgered, no eatin'-house gal with a face like a flat-car was a-goin' to be _e_lected the prettiest gal of Briggs. Not if _I_ seen myself, _no,_ ma'am. 'Specially not whilst Sewell's little gal was in the country. Anybody could pick _her_ fer the winner if they had on blinders. "Cupid," I says, "you hump you'self!"