a tray of dishes and half the women went to bed with headache
from the nervous shock, he never even looked up, but went on with his
dinner, and the only comment he made afterward was to tell the head
waitress to see that Annie didn't have to pay breakage--that the
trays were too heavy for a woman, anyhow. As Miss Cobb said, he was
impossible.

Well, as if I didn't have my hands full with getting meals to the
shelter-house, and trying to find a house doctor, and wondering how long
it would be before "Julia" came face to face with Dick Carter somewhere
or other, and trying to keep one eye on Thoburn while I kept Mr. Pierce
straight with the other--that day, during luncheon, Mike the bath man
came out to the spring-house and made a howl about his wages. He'd been
looking surly for two days.

"What about your wages?" I snapped. "Aren't you getting what you've
always had?"

"No tips!" he said sulkily. "Only a few taking baths--only one daily,
and that's that man Jennings. There's no use talking, Miss Minnie, I've
got to have a double percentage on that man or you'll have to muzzle
him. He--he's dangerous."

"If I give you the double percentage, will you stay?"

"I don't know but that I'd rather have the muzzle, Miss Minnie," he
answered slowly, "but--I'll stay. It won't be for long."

Which left me thinking. I'd seen Thoburn talking to Mike more than once
lately, and he'd been going around with an air of assurance that didn't
make me any too cheerful. Evenings, when I'd relieved Amanda King at the
news stand, I'd seen Thoburn examining the woodwork of the windows, and
only the night before, happening on the veranda unexpectedly, I found
Mike and him measuring it with a tape line. As I say, Mike's visit left
me thinking.

The usual crowd came out that afternoon and drank water and sat around
the fire and complained--all except Senator Biggs, who happened in just
as I was pouring melted butter over a dish of hot salted pop-corn.
He stood just inside the door, sniffling, with his eyes fixed on the
butter, and then groaned and went out.

He looked terrible--his clothes hung on him like bags; as the bishop
said, it was ghastly to see a convexity change to such a concavity in
three days.

Mr. Moody won three dollars that day from the slot-machine and was
almost civil to his wife, but old Jennings sat with his foot on a stool
and yelled if anybody slammed the door. Mrs. Hutchins brought him out
with her eyes red and as