# Cupid En Route/Chapter 3
### III

DAVE had outfitted all the way across the continent, so to speak, adding to his wardrobe wherever they had stopped long enough for him to reach a store. The pajamas he had purchased in Chicago. They were of pale lavender with white fleur-de-lis sprinkled upon them, and, unfortunately, they were much too small. To see Dave lolling luxuriously in a crimson velvet arm-chair attired in lavender pajamas that threatened to give way every time he puffed at his big, black cigar gave the observer an excellent idea of what blonde Odin would have looked like had he lived today. The partners were occupying a suite of three rooms, and when Wade, his night attire chastely hidden by a dressing gown, joined Dave the latter gazed about the parlor with large satisfaction.
​"These are great quarters we've got here, boy, he said. "How much did you say they was costin' us?"
"Twenty-six a day," answered Wade, seating himself on a couch and drawing his glass toward him. "About thirty-two times what I used to pay for my room in Telluride, Dave."
"Times have changed, Wade. I never thought two years ago I'd ever be doin' this." He sighed luxuriously, stretched his long legs until the pajamas strained and waved his cigar in a gesture that included everything from the thick, red carpet to the bric-a-brac on the mantel.
"Neither did I," said Wade. "Not when I was pushing a shovel for three dollars a day."
"That's right. Funny the way things happen, ain't it? If you hadn't dropped that drunken greaser just when you did that night in Flannerty's it'd been all up with me, I reckon." Dave chuckled, "I won't never forget the way he hit the wall; thought ​he was goin' clean through. I was some relieved, boy, for he had a fine drop on me an' my fingers was a good six inches from my gun."
"Yes, that was the start," mused Wade. "A couple of months after we started out prospecting."
"An' had mean luck all that summer. But we hit it at last, eh? Boy, the Better Days is goin' to be the biggest little producer in Colorado before long."
"I'm satisfied if she just keeps up her present gait," said Wade. "Are you really going back the day after tomorrow, old man."
"I got to. Minnie wouldn't never forgive me if I was away Christmas, nor the kids neither. 'Sides, I got plenty to do out there. Even if I start back Saturday I won't much more'n make it, like as not. I see where they've had ten inches of snow around Denver, an' that means slow goin' through the mountains. I reckon, anyhow, another day of this town will be about all I can stand."
​"What's the matter? Don't you like it?" Wade laughed.
"Oh, I like it all right enough, but I don't feel to home here. It's different with you, I reckon; you was born around here an' you savvy the landmarks. It's strange country to me an' I don't speak the langwidge. I wish you was goin' back with me, partner."
"I guess you'll get along all right. I'll put you in a car here that 'll take you right through to Chicago."
"That's all right; I know the back-trail, boy. I was just thinkin' that it's goin' to be powerful lonesome out there this winter."
"Well, I may be back before you get a chance to miss me, Dave. It all depends. After all, there isn't much to hold me here nowadays. When my folks were alive it was different. I dare say a month or two will be all I 'll want."
"Reckon I'd better put on another shift at the mine," said Dave with a twinkle in his eyes. "Reckon if you're goin' to stay two months here you'll need a pile of money."
​"I guess I'll have enough to scrape through with," laughed the other. "I'll find cheaper lodgings after you go, old man." He was silent a moment. Dave poured himself another drink and worked the syphon. "Dave, did you ever think of living in Denver?"
"Sure, lots o' times. But Minnie always 'lows Telluride's good enough for her, an' she's boss, you know. Why, boy?"
"Well, I've been thinking of it myself. After we get things running smooth at the mine I don't see why I couldn't, why we both couldn't, Dave; that is, if Minnie changed her mind."
"Course we could! You could, anyway. Minnie aint' much at changin' her mind as you know. Reckon you'll buy a smashin' big house on Capitol Hill an' make them city folks sit up an' take notice?"
"Y-yes, I dare say. The fact is—" Wade paused and knocked the ashes from his pipe. "The fact is, Dave, I'm thinking of getting married" Dave's glass went down with a bang.
​"The hell you say!"
Wade nodded.
"Why, boy, you ain't never said nothin' about that! Didn't know as you savvied a woman when you see one!"
"Well, I guess it's time, Dave. I'm thirty years old and I guess I've got enough now to keep a wife on."
"Beckon you have," chuckled Dave. "Have you spotted the lady, boy?"
"Yes."
"You have? Well, say, you keep a pretty close mouth, you do! Why, I never seen you takin' notice none. 'Tain't Hutchins's gal, is it?"
"No, it's not Hutchins's girl, Dave. She lives here in New York; at least, I suppose she does."
"Jumpin' Jehosophat! Don't you know where she lives?" asked Dave bewilderedly.
"No. Fact is, Dave, I don't know much of anything about her yet; not even her name." Dave cast a keen glance from ​Wade to his glass and from the glass to the bottle.
"Are you feelin' right well, Wade?" he solicitously. "Ain't feverish, are you?"
"A little, Dave." Wade arose and began to walk restlessly about the room.
"You better see a doctor. I reckon they have doctors here, don't they?" Dave was plainly anxious and worried.
"A doctor wouldn't help, old man," said Wade with a rueful smile. "I'm head over heels in love, Dave; that's what's the matter with me. And I guess it's worse for being so sudden."
"Sudden?" echoed the other.
"Yes, darned sudden, old man. It happened at about a quarter past eight and it's been getting rapidly worse ever since. Look here, remember that girl in front of the Opera House? The one that loafer fell into?"
"Sure! What about her?"
"Well, she's—she's It, Dave."
​"You mean—you've gone an' fallen—"
"Fallen with a thump, old man. That's the girl I'm going to marry, the Lord willing."
"Phew!" Dave tossed his cigar away and felt for another. Not finding one in his pajamas he let his hand fall and looked helplessly at his friend. "You mean to tell me, boy, that you're in love with that girl?"
"I sure am!"
"An'—an' you don't know her? Not even her name?"
"No, I never saw her until tonight."
"Then—then—why, damn it, Wade, you can't go to a theatre an' pick out the prettiest gal there an'—an' marry her!"
"Why can't I?" asked Wade calmly.
"Why—because—how do you know she'll have you?"
"Why not? I'm all right, ain't I? I'm not deformed and I'm average good-looking and I've got plenty of money. My family's as good as there is in New York State and we've none of us been hanged. I don't say ​she will take me, Dave, but she's sure going to have the chance!"
"Well, I'll be—" Dave gulped and looked at his partner in wondering admiration. "Wade, you're sure a wonder! Do you—do you mean it?"
"I never meant anything any more," replied Wade quietly as he refilled his pipe. "I'm going to find out who she is, where she lives. Then I'm going to get acquainted with her and convince her that I'm the chap she wants."
"Sounds easy, the way you tell it," said Dave dubiously. "But you never can tell about a female, Wade. Still—" He began to pat himself in his search for a cigar. Wade tossed him one from the mantel. "Still," he went on as he bit off the end of it, "I ain't sayin' you won't do it, boy. I've known you three years an' I don't recollect as how you ever set out to do a thing without you done it. I ain't never see you make love to a gal, but if you can talk to 'em like you talked to that feller in Denver when ​you made him stake us to that development loan, why, that gal ain't got no more show against you than an icicle has in hell!"
"The trouble is, it isn't all talk," mused Wade.
"Ain't it? Well, talk goes a long way with the women, boy. I know that much, an' I ain't no Don Jewan, neither. Tell you what I'll do, Wade. I'll bet you a thousand dollars you win!"
"I'd rather not bet on this," answered the other with a smile. "But if I do win, Dave, you can sink some of that thousand in a wedding present."
"You bet I will, boy! I'll get you the biggest, high-toniest gold water-pitcher there is in Denver—or anything else the lady might prefer! There's one thing, though, you ain't considerin', boy."
"What's that?"
"Why, how do you know the lady ain't married already?"
"Married!" Wade's jaw dropped and he looked blank for a moment.
​"Didn't think of that?" queried Dave.
"No, I didn't. But—oh, hang it, man, she can't be married! How could she be? What makes you think she is? "
"I don't. I just said supposin'."
"Of course she isn't," said Wade self-convincingly. "Why, she didn't look married!"
"Well, I reckon some of 'em don't in this country," answered Dave sagely. "An' what's more a heap of 'em don't act married. I ain't sayin' you ain't right, boy, an' I hope you are. Only—well, say, now, I'd find out about-that before I made myself any more promises."
"It's kind of late already," said Wade with a scowl. "I—I'm in pretty deep, old man. If she is married—"
"Yes?" asked Dave encouragingly.
Wade laughed mirthlessly.
"Well, in that case, old man, I guess you'll see me back at Lone Mesa damn soon."
"Well, well, I reckon there's a heap more ​good-lookers in this town, boy. Don't you be dis—"
"There's only one of Her, Dave and she's the only one I want. And, by the Eternal, I mean to have her! Oh, I know it sounds crazy, old man; I guess I am crazy—sort of. It's certainly got me in a heap. I never was in love before, you see; only once when I was a kid in college, and that didn't count for a damn. I've always thought men were weak and silly when they lost their heads over women, but now—well, I know better. I've lost mine, all right—and my grip, too, I guess. That suggestion of yours about her being married has sort of floored me, Dave."
He sank onto a chair and knotted his hands nervously, his pipe hanging forgotten from the corner of his mouth.
"Hell!" said Dave. "What's the use of worryin' about that until you know? up, boy! I don't reckon she's married."
"Maybe-it won't matter—if she is," muttered Wade.
​"Now, now, you don't mean that!" Dave shook his head slowly. "Don't go to sayin' things you don't mean. You ain't the man to go an' jump another feller's claim, boy. I know you better'n that. Here, fill your glass an' we'll drink to it."
Dave stood up and held his glass out.
"Ready? Here's hopin', boy, God bless you!" he said earnestly. "Here's that you win."