touching my bare neck like the hand of a corpse. And I
didn't faint." She laughed again. "I guess, maybe, I was too scared to
faint."

"Come on back," Saxon urged. "We've lost half an hour."

"Not me. I'm goin' home after that, if they fire me. I couldn't iron for
sour apples now, I'm that shaky."

One woman had broken a leg, another an arm, and a number nursed milder
bruises and bruises. No bullying nor entreating of the forewoman could
persuade the women to return to work. They were too upset and nervous,
and only here and there could one be found brave enough to re-enter the
building for the hats and lunch baskets of the others. Saxon was one of
the handful that returned and worked till six o'clock.

CHAPTER XV

"Why, Bert!--you're squiffed!" Mary cried reproachfully.

The four were at the table in the private room at Barnum's. The wedding
supper, simple enough, but seemingly too expensive to Saxon, had been
eaten. Bert, in his hand a glass of California red wine, which
the management supplied for fifty cents a bottle, was on his feet
endeavoring a speech. His face was flushed; his black eyes were
feverishly bright.

"You've ben drinkin' before you met me," Mary continued. "I can see it
stickin' out all over you."

"Consult an oculist, my dear," he replied. "Bertram is himself to-night.
An' he is here, arisin' to his feet to give the glad hand to his old
pal. Bill, old man, here's to you. It's how-de-do an' good-bye, I guess.
You're a married man now, Bill, an' you got to keep regular hours. No
more runnin' around with the boys. You gotta take care of yourself,
an' get your life insured, an' take out an accident policy, an' join a
buildin' an' loan society, an' a buryin' association--"

"Now you shut up, Bert," Mary broke in. "You don't talk about buryin's
at weddings. You oughta be ashamed of yourself."

"Whoa, Mary! Back up! I said what I said because I meant it. I ain't
thinkin' what Mary thinks. What I was thinkin'.... Let me tell you what
I was thinkin'. I said buryin' association, didn't I? Well, it was not
with the idea of castin' gloom over this merry gatherin'. Far be it...."

He was so evidently seeking a way out of his predicament, that Mary
tossed her head triumphantly. This acted as a spur to his reeling wits.

"Let me tell you why," he went on. "Because, Bill, you got such an
all-fired pretty wife, that's why. All the fellows is crazy over her,
an' when they get to runnin' after her,