ge is to marry her?"

"Hardly!" exploded the Dummy. "Just toll her away."

"Why shouldn't I marry her?" Llewellyn demanded.

"I can think of five reasons," the Kid retorted. He tapped his chest
with his finger. "Here's one, and there's the other four." He pointed to
the other Wag-boys. "D'you think we'd let you marry her? Huh! I'd sooner
marry her myself."

Llewellyn ended the discussion by stamping out of the cabin, cursing his
partners with violence.

Business of the P. C. Company took Harry Hope to Council City in
February; so the Wags felt easier--but only for a time. They found that
June was grieving for him, and were plunged into deep despair until
Scrap Iron came home with the explanation that the lovers had quarreled
before parting. It was a signal for a celebration during which Reddy
cooked wildly for a week, making puddings and pies and pastries, most of
which were smuggled into June's cabin. Thomasville journeyed out to a
certain roadhouse run by a Frenchman, and returned with a case of eggs
wrapped up in a woolen comforter. It required the combined perjury of
the other Wags to prove an alibi for him, but June had an omelet every
morning thereafter.

Then, just as they were weaning her away, as they thought, the blow
fell. It came with a crushing force that left them dumb and
panic-stricken. June took pneumonia! The Scrap Iron Kid brought the
first news of her illness, and he blubbered like a baby, while Dummy,
the woman-hater, cursed like a man bereft.

"How d'you know it's pneumonia?" queried Thomasville.

"The doc says so. Me 'n' George dropped in with some beefsteaks we
copped from the butcher, and found her in bed, coughing like the devil.
She couldn't get up--pains in her boosum. We run for Doc Whiting
and--fellers, it's true! George is there now." The Kid swallowed
bravely, and two tears rolled down his cheeks.

The Wag-boys broke out of their cabin on the run, then strung out down
the snow-banked street toward June's cabin, where they found Dr.
Whiting, very grave, and Llewellyn with his face blanched and his lips
tight drawn. They tiptoed in and stood against the wall in a silent,
stricken row, twirling their caps and trying to ease the pain in their
throats.

The Wag-lady was indeed very ill. Her yellow hair was tumbled over her
pillow and she was in great pain, but she smiled at them and made a
feeble jest--which broke in her throat, for she was young and all alone
and very badly frigh