sweat stood out under the labour of his discomfort:

"Just 'Shorty,' Miss," he finally quavered. "Plain 'Shorty' of the
Bar X--er--a miserable, crawlin' worm for disturbin' of you." He
rolled his eyes helplessly at Bailey, while he sopped with his
crumpled sombrero at the glistening perspiration.

"Why didn't ye tell me?" he whispered ferociously at the host, and
the volume of his query carried to Joy, hiding out in the night.

"Mr. Shorty," said the sheriff gravely; "let me introduce my wife,
Mrs. Turney."

The bride smiled sweetly at the tremulous little man, who broke and
fled to a high bench in the darkest corner, where he dangled his
short legs in a silent ecstasy of bashfulness.

"I reckon I'll have to rope that Chink, then blindfold and back him
into the kitchen, if we git any supper," said Bailey, disappearing.

Later the Chinaman stole in to set the table, but he worked with
hectic and fitful energy, a fearful eye always upon the dim bulk in
the corner, and at a fancied move he shook with an ague of
apprehension. Backing and sidling, he finally announced the meal,
prepared to stampede madly at notice.

During the supper Shorty ate ravenously of whatever lay to his hand,
but asked no favours. The agony of his shyness paralysed his huge
vocal muscles till speech became a labour quite impossible.