Schmidt's pharmacy label on it."

"Where?" I demanded, and started for it. He laughed at that, and putting
the glass down, he came over and stood smiling at me.

"As ingenuous as a child," he said in his mocking way, "a nice, little
red-haired child! Minnie, how old is this young Carter?"

"Twenty-three."

"An--er--earnest youth? Willing to buckle down to work and make the old
place go? Ready to pat the old ladies on the shoulder and squeeze the
young ones' hands?"

"He's young," I said, "but if you're counting on his being a fool--"

"Not at all," he broke in hastily. "If he hasn't too much character
he'll probably succeed. I hope he isn't a fool. If he isn't, oh, friend
Minnie, he'll stand the atmosphere of this Garden of Souls for about a
week, and then he'll kill some of them and escape. Where is he now?"

"He's been sick," I said. "Mumps!"

"Mumps! Oh, my aunt!" he exclaimed, and fell to laughing. He was still
laughing when he got to the door.

"Mumps!" he repeated, with his hand on the knob. "Minnie, the old place
will be under the hammer in three weeks, and if you know what's good for
you, you'll sign in under the new management while there's a vacancy.
You've been the whole show here for so long that it will be hard for you
to line up in the back row of the chorus."

"If I were you," I said, looking him straight in the eye, "I wouldn't
pick out any new carpets yet, Mr. Thoburn. I promised the old doctor I'd
help Mr. Dick, and I will."

"So you're actually going to fight it out," he said, grinning. "Well,
the odds are in your favor. You are two to my one."

"I think it's pretty even," I retorted. "We will be hindered, so to
speak, by having certain principles of honor and honesty. You have no
handicap."

He tried to think of a retort, and not finding one he slammed out of the
spring-house in a rage.

Mr. Van Alstyne and his wife came in that same day, just before dinner,
and we played three-handed bridge for half an hour. As I've said, they'd
been on their honeymoon, and they were both sulky at having to stay at
the Springs. It was particularly hard on Mrs. Van Alstyne, because, with
seven trunks of trousseau with her, she had to put on black. But she
used to shut herself up in her room in the evenings and deck out for Mr.
Sam in her best things. We found it out one evening when Mrs. Biggs set
fire to her bureau cover with her alcohol curling-iron heater, and Mrs.
Sam, who had been going around