They also, with the town bankers and
other solid fellows with money in the banks, who were investors in Tom's
enterprises, were invited. "Put on the best clothes you've got in the world
and have your women folks do the same," he said laughing. "Then you get out
to my house as soon as you can. If you haven't any way to get there, come
to the Bidwell House. I'll get you out."
Tom did not forget that in order to have his wedding party go as he wished,
he would need to serve drinks. Jim Priest went from bar to bar. "What wine
you got--good wine? How much you got?" he asked at each place. Steve Hunter
had in the cellar of his house six cases of champagne kept there against a
time when some important guest, the Governor of the State or a Congressman,
might come to town. He felt that on such occasions it was up to him to see
that the town, as he said, "did itself proud." When he heard what was going
on he hurried to the Bidwell House and offered to send his entire stock of
wine out to Tom's house, and his offer was accepted.
* * * * *
Jim Priest had an idea. When the guests were all assembled and when the
farm kitchen was filled with cooks and waiters who stumbled over each
other, he took his idea to Tom. There was, he explained, a short-cut
through fields and along lanes to a point on the county seat road, three
miles from the house.
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