“Well, you’re frank about it, to say the least. How many times have you changed husbands?” “Sev’teen time.” “What’s that? Great Scott! Seventeen times?” “Maybe more.” “Christopher! You’ve had seventeen different husbands—or more? Goodness, but that’s a record!” At this juncture, Fake threw her arms round the professor. “You be next one?” she asked. “Like you much. You be old Lobster.” “What’s that? Old Lobster?” “Pretty name,” cooed Fraud, from the other side, cuddling on his shoulder. “We like old Lobster, Fake.” “You bet your back teeth!” elegantly retorted Fake. “We like him lot. Pull his leg.” “Well, you’re frank in proclaiming your intentions, at least!” gasped Zenas. At this moment the strange music began again, and the dancing girls reappeared, posing and pirouetting, the tiny bells on their bare ankles tinkling in a lively manner. Zenas tried to untangle himself from the twining arms of the two favorites, but they declined to be thrust aside. “No! no!” they cried. “Keep so. Like it, old Lobster.” “Old Lobster!” grated Gunn. “Say, my dears, you’ll please me if you call me something else. I don’t like the name you have selected for me.” “No like it?” questioned Fake, in apparent surprise. “Pretty name.” “Sweet name,” gurgled Fraud. “We like it.” “But I object! You’ll have to call me something else. I won’t stand for it.” “All right,” said Fraud, in apparent disappointment. Then she tried to get a strangle hold on Zenas, who was beginning to perspire and wish himself a thousand miles away. “Well, you have a mighty queer notion about pretty names!” snapped the old man. “Don’t choke me! Those dancing girls are laughing—I know they are! I can see them laughing behind their veils!” But they clung to him more closely than ever, and all his squirming was useless. “Where’s the boss of this house?” he spluttered. “Be careful, both of you! I’m a respectable married man!” “Nobody ever think it,” snickered Fraud. “You be married lots more when you get us,” observed Fake. “Christopher! I should say so! I’d be too much married.” “We not all you have,” said Fraud. “You get lots more like us.” “Only not so nice—not so pretty,” declared Fake. “Well, I’ll have to think this thing over before I close the bargain. I’m beginning to think that one wife is enough for any man—too much in some cases.” “How silly!” commented Fake. “Awful chump,” said Fraud. “But we love him,” purred Fake. “Him old. Him not last long. Then we have ’nother husband.” “That fun,” giggled Fraud. “Say, you’re beginning to make me sick!” snapped the distressed victim. “Call the boss of the house—call him! He can keep his harem!” “You nervous,” said Fake. “See girls dance. Be still.” “I see them,” groaned Gunn, “and they see us. They’re making sport of us! I didn’t come here to be laughed at! I won’t stand it.” “No stand—sit still,” advised Fraud.