Along toward sundown the next day, Henry and Kid Wilson found themselves a short distance from the Kansas line and even closer to another farm. Their last stop at a farm had been successful, Henry thought, and there was no reason to ride on into Kansas during the evening hours. The little town he had in mind was just across the border.
“Let’s check out the local hospitality,” he said to Kid Wilson. “If we can spend the night here, we can get an early start for the state line in the morning.”
A few more minutes found them inside the farmhouse, trying their best not to appear as bored as they really were. The farmer and his wife had two rather drab daughters, and Henry and Wilson had happened in on an evening when a young man had come courting. The courted daughter was playing the piano, accompanied by her beau on the violin. The father was snugged down in an overstuffed chair, smoking his pipe and enjoying the music tremendously. The tune was “Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes.” Off in the kitchen, the mother and the other daughter were preparing the supper. Henry staunchly tried not to wince each time he heard a sour note from either the piano or the violin, while Kid Wilson, who couldn’t tell a sour note from a sweet one, was simply suffering in general.
Suddenly, with no warning, the mother called out from the kitchen in a shrill voice.
“Soup’s on,” she said.
The music came to a squawking halt with no attempt at a formal ending, and the family all rushed to the table. Nor was the gentleman caller shy in his approach to dinner. Henry and Wilson were the last ones to reach the table and to sit. There was a hurried grace, and an even bigger hurry to clean all the platters. When Kid Wilson perceived that there was nothing left to eat, he leaned back from the table.
“That was a mighty fine meal, ladies,” he said.
“And, I might add,” said Henry, “exceeded only by the fine hospitality of this entire family.”
“Why, thank you, boys,” said the farmer. “We do pride ourselves on our Christian charity.”
The farmer’s wife then stood up. She wiped her hands on her dirty apron, and flour dust flew.
“Why don’t we all go on back in here to the easy chairs and just enjoy some more good music,” she said. “I do love to hear good music played.”
Henry thought to himself that he, too, loved to hear good music played, but he doubted that he would hear any played in this house. Kid Wilson had a mild touch of panic. He didn’t think that he could stand much more of the duet and their particular brand of music, but Kid Wilson was not one to accept unpleasantness calmly. He quickly formulated a plan.
“I don’t know much about it, myself,” he said with sudden inspiration, “but I’m sure that my friend here would like nothing better, since he’s something of a musician, himself.”
Henry shot Wilson a threatening glance, but before he could do anything more, the farmer’s wife had picked up Wilson’s cue.
“Oh, really?” she said excitedly. “What do you play?”
“Oh,” said Henry, “I just fiddle around a bit.”
“With what?” said the good wife.
“Why, the fiddle, of course.”
Henry’s little joke received a round of polite and good-natured laughter, followed by the insistence of all that he give them a sample of his musical skill. The young man rushed up to Henry and thrust the fiddle at him, so Henry gave in to the demands. He tested the unfamiliar instrument with a squawk or two, tightened a couple of strings, then charged right into a rousing rendition of “The Texas Quickstep.” Soon all were stomping feet and clapping hands. The young couple began to dance. The farmer and his wife joined them, and finally even Kid Wilson and the leftover daughter began to tromp the floorboards. Henry played four or five tunes before the farmer called a halt to the festivities on the grounds that the hour was late and he would have to rise early in the morning to get at his chores.
“Boys,” he said, “I wish I could do you better than send you to the barn, but we just ain’t got the room in the house, what with four of us in here already.”
As he spoke to Henry and Wilson, he gave a hard and meaningful stare to the young man who was courting his daughter. That swain moved to pick up his hat.
“Well,” he said, “I reckon I oughta be heading on home. I guess it’s getting kind of late. Good night all.”
He smiled sappily at his sweetheart, who followed him out the door to bid him good night. Henry laid aside the fiddle.
“The barn will suit us just fine,” he said. “Don’t give it another thought.”
“Well,” said the farmer, “good night, then.”
Henry and Wilson made their way to the barn and found themselves each a pile of hay in which to build a nest for the night. It didn’t take them long to fall into a deep sleep. But a lengthy rest was not in the cards for Henry and Wilson that night. It had been only a couple of hours before each man felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him out of his slumber. They awoke gazing sleepily into the eyes of the two daughters, whose eyes were not at all sleepy.
“What—what are you doing here?” asked Henry, rubbing his eyes.
“Everyone’s asleep,” said the first daughter.
“So were we,” said Henry.
“We just thought that you all might like to have some company out here,” said the second daughter.
“Well,” said Kid Wilson, and he pulled the one who was hanging over his face down to him, crushing her lips with his.
“You two had better get back inside before your folks find out where you’ve gone to,” said Henry.
“Oh, it’s all right,” said the one pushing herself at Henry. “They won’t wake up for a while. They’re sound sleepers.”
“Ain’t no hurry, Henry,” said Wilson.
Henry pushed the girl away from himself and pulled on his boots. He stood up.
“Get your boots on, Kid,” he said. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us this morning.”
Kid Wilson didn’t respond, and Henry gave him a kick.
“Come on, Kid,” he said, the tone of his voice and the expression on his face leaving no room for argument.
The unexpected nocturnal visit resulted in Henry and Wilson’s finding themselves in Kansas and on the outskirts of their destination much earlier than they had planned. The town was not yet quite awake. They settled down on the side of a gradual slope with a good view of the main street to wait for the bank to open. Kid Wilson was sullen.