There were two of them: the girl, maybe fifteen but more likely just fourteen, in a beat-up straw hat and a worn dress reaching to her bare feet and the flour sack over her shoulder; the boy, wearing overalls, nearly a head shorter than the girl and in a straw hat too and his shoes tied together by their laces and hung around his neck, and carrying a single-barrel shotgun. They both were stepping along at a good pace there along the road, when I come up on them and slowed the horses to a walk.
     They looked up at me and I said, "You like to ride a spell? I'm going into Showdown. I can take you that far."
     The boy gave me a hard look as if weighing me somehow and standing there with his body tense and the shotgun, over half his size, in his hands. The girl whispered to him and he nodded.
     I stopped the horses and they came over to the wagon. "One of you can sit up here but the other will have to ride with the freight." I wasn't carrying much — two large spools of telegraph wire and a crate with pliers, wire cutters, and hammers — and that's why I only had two horses instead of a four-up team. The railroad hadn't made it to Showdown yet and I worked hauling freight from Red Ridge. They were running a telegraph line from Showdown up to Howard Randal's gold mine up in the high country.
     The boy climbed in the back and took a seat on one of the spools. He gave me another hard look, far too hard and serious for how young he was, and then turned his back. The girl got up on the seat next to me and put her flour sack between us. She said, "That's kindly of you to offer us a ride. We've been walking now four days and three nights."
     She reached into her sack and brought out two dry corn cakes. She offered one to me and when I shook my head no, she turned to the boy. "Adam, ketch." The boy spun round to grab the tossed cake.
     I handed my canteen to her. "You might want to wet that so you can swallow it."
     She did and then called to the boy as she showed him the canteen: "Adam?"
     He said nothing, only turned his back again.
     I started the horses moving with a slap of the reins across their backs.
     "If you don't mind me asking, where you two going?"
     "Same as you," she said. "We're going to Showdown."
     "You got folks there?"
     "No."
     "Well, Showdown is a mighty rough place for a grown man, let alone a slip of a girl and a boy."
     "We don't aim to stay. I'm going there to get married."
     "Married?" And I glanced back at the boy.
     She laughed. "No, Adam's my brother. His real name is Adam Two because Adam One died when still a baby and so when the next boy come along Pa said he had to be Adam Two. He's the only boy. I have five sisters, all younger than me. I'll be fifteen next month. Adam's near eleven. Now that Pa's dead, Adam's the man of the house, as Ma says. That's why he's along. My name's Lucy Ann. What's yours?"
     "Luke."
     "Luke? Like in the Gospels?"
     "Yep."
     "Luke is a good name. My future husband's name is Cecil Edwards. I don't care much for Cecil, but I didn't name him."
     "Is he waiting for you in Showdown?"
     She laughed again, really amused this time. "Oh, no. He doesn't know I'm coming. You see, he promised to marry me if I did what I done and I did it . . . more than once. You see, that way I could have babies of my own and I'm of an age now to have them. But he left town and he'd told he was going to Showdown to the gold strike, so that's why we're going there."
     "You think you'll find him?"
     "Oh, yes. He stands out like a birch in a piney woods, as Pa used to say. Oh, he is sure pretty . . . for a man. And he wears fancy clothes and talks so soft and easy and has real curly hair. I'll know him right off."
     The afternoon sun was bright and warm. The trees and the fields were green except for the yellow tips of the high grass. Every once in a while a flock of birds would rise out of the grass and whirl around before dropping back down. In the distance the high Sierras reached into the sky, the peaks white-capped. Far off to the south I could see the shimmering reflection of a river. I figured, rightly, it was the Showdown.
     There was nothing but shade and shafts of light and birds calling to warn others about us as we moved along. We went down and up through several dips in the road and the wagon groaned and swayed. Then the road was straight and smooth. After two hours or so I could see a town ahead and we passed a few small cabins with a man or woman with a hoe working in a garden. They turned to wave at us as we went by.
     Soon more cabins and even a house or two with a barn popped up and suddenly it was Showdown City with regular wood buildings, some with two stories, and men and a few women on the wood walks along Main Street. I stopped in front of the Wells Fargo express office.
     A man came out and I said, "This is the wire and tools for the mine."
     "All right, we'll get it from here. Get yourself something to eat and be back in an hour or so to get your wagon."
     "Got anything going to Red Ridge? I hate to haul an empty wagon."
     "I'll see about that."
     I looked at that girl's open, trusting face, and I felt I should do something. I said, "Say, could you tell me if you know a man named Cecil Edwards?"
     "Don't know. What's he look like?"
     Lucy Ann repeated what she'd told me.
     "Oh, yeah, a man like that come in on the stage maybe a week or so ago. Gambler type, he was. He set up down to Fancy Dan's, that saloon across from the hotel. But you won't find him there."
     "Why not?"
     "If he's the man I think he is, he's in jail. There was some hellacious row at Fancy Dan's last night about cheating at cards and all and he was involved. A miner was shot, but he lived. You want to stop by Bert Miller's, the marshal. His office is right up the street."
     The girl turned round to her brother and said, "Adam, best put on your shoes now we are in town."
     I led and was followed by Lucy Ann and Adam like a hen and her two chicks.
     Miller, smoking a cigar, sat at his desk playing solitaire. He only glanced up when I came in, but sat up straight when the girl and boy followed.
     "Marshal," I said, "do you have a man called Cecil Edwards in your jail?"
     "I got a man in a cell back there but he claims to be Edward Seavers."
     "Could this young lady take a look at him?"
     "Why?"
     Lucy Ann said, "Cause he said he was going to marry me and, after what he done, he has to."
     Miller asked me, "What the hell you got to do with this? Is she yours?"
     "No. But how is it going to hurt to let her see if your man is her man?"
     Miller shrugged. "I suppose not. Hey, what the hell is that boy doing with that shotgun?"
     "I figure it's to make sure this Edwards keeps his promise."
     Miller laughed. "Don't that beat all. All right, you can take a look at him. He goes up before Judge Buchanan this evening. The judge sleeps late."
     "For what?"
     "'Cause he can, I guess. Hell, how should I know? He's the only law here."
     "I meant, what's this Edwards or Seavers going up for?"
     "For shooting a miner. The miner claimed Seavers cheated and it got loud and rowdy and the miner pulled a pistol and Seavers shot the miner with a Derringer. The miner lived, which saved Seavers from the rope, but cheating at cards is a serious offense here. Not quite hanging, but damn close."
     "What will they do to him?"
     "Strip him, tar and feather, and ride him out on a rail. Just another tinhorn getting what he deserves."
     "Well?"
     "Well, what?"
     "Can we see him?"
     "Why the hell not?"
     We followed Miller into the back where there were three cells. In the last one was a man in a fancy suit, a dirty white shirt, a string tie, and a mean-looking shiner. He stood with hands on the bars.
     Lucy Ann ran forward and said, "It's him, it's him!"
     Edwards or Seavers stepped back and said, "What the hell is this?"
     Miller said, "This girl says she knows you."
     Lucy Ann said, "He promised to marry me."
     Seavers said, "What the hell? I never saw her before. I never promised to marry no one."
     "You did! You did!"
     Miller said, "Well, if he did or didn't, it doesn't make much difference. He sees the Judge. If it was up to me, I'd hang the bastard, but that hot tar on his hide will almost be as good."
     "What?" Seavers or Edwards said. "Hey, they can't be going to do that. I'm innocent."
     "Hell you are, " Miller said. "The Judge don't like cheaters or tinhorns with derringers." He turned to me: "You ever see someone tarred and feathered? You can peel the skin off like he was a pit-roasted pig."
     Lucy Ann said, "Cecil, you promised to marry me and you better."
     The boy Adam's eyes locked onto Edwards-Seavers.
     Miller said, "All right, you seen him. Is that it?"
     Lucy Ann said, "He has to marry me. That is how it has to be."
     "Girl, he don't have to marry nobody. If you want to marry him after we're finished with him, I don't give a good God damn. Of course, he won't be worth spit by then."
     Miller turned around and sort of shepherded us back into his office.
     "All right, you seen him and that's all there is to it."
     "No," Lucy Ann said, "he will marry me. You have to make him."
     Miller leaned back in his chair, smiled, and said, "You go see the Judge about that."
     I asked, "Where is the Judge?"
     "Maybe asleep in his room. Maybe asleep in his office. Maybe asleep in the arms of one of Maude Denker's fancy ladies. Or maybe over at the hotel restaurant getting a free meal."
     "Which is most likely?" I asked.
     "If he's awake, probably at the restaurant . . . although he likes to have a wake-up shot at the Showdown Saloon or at his office."
     I'd known the Judge in a passing way for a few years so I knew where his office was. We headed there first.
     Judge Buchanan was in his office, seated at his desk, and drinking a glass of whiskey just poured from the bottle in front of him. He was large, with a red and puffed-out face and blurry eyed.
     I entered with the girl and the boy right behind me.
     He asked, "What can I do you for?"
     I was about to speak when Lucy said, "He has to marry me."
     "What? Who? Huh? What's this all about, Luke?"
     I explained as well as I could and that her Pa was dead and the only man in the family was the boy. The Judge thought about it and said, "I'm sorry, miss, but it is up to him whether or not he marries you."
     "But he promised."
     "Unless you have something in writing or a witness, I don't see where you have a case. I don't doubt a no-account tinhorn like this Edwards or Seavers would lie to a young lady to gain her favors, but I don't see how I can force him to do anything . . . other than hang. And even that sweet and just result is precluded by the nature of his offense. If the miner had died, then it would've been simple. It's another story now. I guess we'll just tar him."
     "That's not right," Lucy Ann said.
     "Girl, there is no right or wrong in this world. You must learn that. Now, I would have to examine the statutes to see if he sexually assaulted you while you were under age, but I believe you are over twelve years."
     "I sure am."
     "And these sexual relations were with your consent?"
     "Consent?"
     "You agreed to them? He didn't force you?"
     "Oh, I agreed because he said he would marry me."
     "I see your point, young lady, and I agree it isn't exactly just to let him off without fulfilling his promise. No doubt he is an unprincipled bounder of the worst kind." He sat there thinking as he sipped the whiskey. "No doubt he took advantage of an innocent young lady. I say, let's visit your prospective bridegroom. There is a possibility he might see the error of his ways."
     We all followed the Judge along the boardwalk back to the marshal's office.
     The Judge said to Miller: "I want to speak to your prisoner."
     Miller led us back to the cell where Edwards-Seavers stood with a cat smile on his face.
     The Judge said, "Mr. Seavers or Edwards, what is your real name?"
     "Daniels."
     "All right, this young lady says you promised to marry her. I'm inclined to believe her."
     "So what?"
     "Well, I have been considering your case. The correct sentence for cheating at cards is to be tarred and feathered, but the appropriate sentence for attempted murder is hanging. It is my opinion that you attempted to murder the miner Henry Vogel. Therefore, you should be tarred and feathered and then hanged."
     "No! God damn no! You can't do that."
     "I sure as hell can, Mr. Daniels."
     Lucy Ann asked, "Can he marry me before you hang him?"
     The Judge looked up at the ceiling as if weighing the question.
     "Judge," Daniels said, "if I marry her, would that help? I mean, would that make any difference?"
     "It might."
     "I need to know."
     "Well, I couldn't rightly hang a newly-married man. I don't see where I have the right to put asunder what God would join together."
     "And what about the tar and feathering?"
     The Judge was quiet for a long time. Then he said, "That would depend on the bride. Young lady, should we tar and feather him?"
     "I don't know," Lucy Ann said. "Could he still marry me?"
     Daniels was shaking now. He said, "Lucy, I meant all I said. I meant to marry you. I love you. I came here to get money so we could get married. I was only thinking of you."
     "Did you mean it when you said I was the prettiest thing you ever saw?"
     "Yes, Lucy, yes."
     "Did you mean it when you said I was the joy of your life?"
     "Yes, yes."
     "All right," Lucy said to the Judge, "don't hang him or do the other . . . as long as he marries me."
     Judge Buchanan said, "Well, no time like the present. I have the authority to marry you two. Girl, come over here. Daniels, reach your hand through the bars there and take her hand. Marshal, you and Luke here are witnesses."
     Lucy said, "No, wait." She dug into her flour sack. "Everybody turn around or close your eyes. You have to."
     I cheated. I saw her take off her straw hat and worn dress and pull out a clean new white dress from the sack. She put on the dress and then a pair of woman's shoes that had to belong to her mother. She said, standing wobbly, "I'm ready now."
     She took Daniels's hand and the Judge recited, from scrambled memory, a scrambled version of the marriage vows. He did remember to finish with "to love and to cherish, till death us do part."
     "By the power vested in me by the sovereign state of California, I pronounce you man and wife. But don't you dare kiss the bride."
     "All right, now, let me loose," Edwards-Seavers-Daniels said.
     Miller looked at the Judge and Buchanan shrugged. "I didn't want to bother with a hanging anyway."
     Lucy said, "I want a piece of paper that says we're married. Ma has one in a frame on the wall in the parlor. I want one too."
     Buchanan said, "I'll make out one for you in my office. It will be as official as you want."
     Daniels said, "Look, I married her. Let me loose. Hell, since she's my wife, we should have a night together and a honeymoon."
     Miller went into his office and came back with the keys. He unlocked the cell and Daniels stepped out. He grabbed Lucy by the waist and lifted her. "Now you're my wife, you do what I say."
     She poked him in the eyes and he dropped her and cursed.
     "You had to marry me because of what you did and if I have a baby it won't be called bastard. But that's the end of it."
     Daniels said, "I don't much want you anyway."
     Lucy turned to the boy and said, "Adam, you know what to do."
     The boy raised the shotgun, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger. The recoil put him on the floor. Gunsmoke filled the place.
     The blast knocked Daniels back into the cell where he lay there with a hole in his chest and a surprised look frozen on his face.
     Miller yelled, "God damn!"
     The boy lay there with that hard set look on his face.
     The girl bent down to help her brother up and I grabbed the shotgun. I broke it open and removed the brass cartridge. The boy held out his hand and I gave him the brass. He put it in his pocket and then reached for the shotgun. I shrugged and handed it to him.
     Judge Buchanan said, "Well, that certainly settles one thing. Marshal, take care of the body. The rest of you come with me."
     Miller said, "Judge, he shot Daniels or Edwards or whoever. I mean, he plain killed him right in front of us."
     "Well? What are you going to do? Arrest the boy? Charge him with murder? You plan to hang him?"
     Miller just stood there without saying a word.
     "If she was your sister, what would you have done?" Then the Judge headed to his office and me and the girl and the boy followed, the girl with her flour sack and the boy with his shotgun.
     The Judge sat at his desk, dipped his pen in an ink well, and filled out an official marriage license. "Your full name, miss? Sorry, I mean missus?"
     "Lucy Ann Lane."
     "But now it'll be Daniels. I suppose. Or would you prefer Edwards or Seavers?"
     "Well, he told me it was Edwards."
     "Fine, you are now Mrs. Lucy Ann Edwards. I'll make a note here and the clerk will enter it in the register. I guess we'll call him Edwards on the official report of his death."
     "Judge," she asked, "what're you going to do to Adam?"
     "You mean for shooting a prisoner attempting to escape? I'm not sure what the reward would be." He rolled up the certificate of marriage, tied it with a blue ribbon, and handed it to Lucy. "By the way, where do you two live?"
     "We have a place outside of Connorsville. Ma and my little sisters are there waiting for us."
     "Girl, that's two to three days ride from here. You two walk that?"
     "Yes, sir. We didn't mind. You understand I had to find Cecil and be married."
     The Judge leaned back and thought a bit and then said, "As I recall, the stage takes the fork to Burns Mills and Placer and then to Connorsville. Is that right, Luke?"
     "I think so, Judge."
     "It seems to me the only right thing to do is send you two home on the stage coach. I know the reward will cover that. Is that satisfactory?"
     So the Judge and me put those two on the late afternoon stage after the Judge explained to the Wells Fargo agent that the city of Showdown was paying the fare.
     Lucy Ann and Adam were the only passengers. The driver put her flour sack up in the luggage rack but Adam wouldn't let go of the shotgun. Walt Travers, who was riding shotgun, commented on it and the boy even cracked a smile. She sat there, in her wedding dress, holding her certificate and the boy sat across from her with his hands on his shotgun.
     When the stage was about to pull out, Lucy leaned out the window and asked the Judge, "Judge, sir, could you tell me your Christian name?"
     "Why, girl, it's Arthur."
     "Arthur? That has a strong sound. It might be as good as Luke. I don't much care for Cecil. If it's a boy I just might call him Arthur. If it's a girl, maybe Marjorie or Susanna or Violet. Violet's a real pretty flower. But I don't know just yet. Anyway, Judge, thank you for your kindness. You too, Mr. . . . ?"
     "Luke is good enough. Good luck, Lucy Ann. You too, Adam."
     The stage headed out of town and the Judge and me stood there watching it for a long time until it was no more than a brown smudge on the road throwing up dust.
     The Judge said, "Well, I guess it's time for a drink. How about it, Luke?"
     "I guess so. I think I'll wait till tomorrow to go back to Red Ridge."
     "Good idea. I suppose you're buying."
     "The first one."
     The marshal was coming across the street toward us.
     "Hell," the Judge said, "Bert should buy the next two." He still was looking after the stage, though, and he said, "I guess the boy did what he thought was right."
     "Or what his sister told him was right."
     "Anyway, one damn tinhorn less is no loss." Then he smiled as he said, "You know, I kind of hope it's a boy."