"A betcheller marry a maiden!--in Reno!--oi, oi, oi! It hasn't been done yet, but it might be." Mallory looked him over and a twinge of distaste disturbed him: "You furnish the license, but--er--ah--is there any chance of a clergyman--a Christian clergyman--being at the station?" "Vy do you vant it a cloigyman? Can't I do it just as good? Or a nice fat alderman I can get you?" Mallory pondered: "I don't think she'd like anything but a clergyman." "Vell," Baumann confessed, "a lady is liable to be particular about her foist marriage. Anyvay I sell you de license." "All right." Mr. Baumann whipped out a portfolio full of documents, and as he searched them, philosophized: "A man ought alvays to carry a good marriage license. It might be he should need it in a hurry." He took a large iron seal from his side-pocket and stamped the paper and then, with fountain pen poised, pleaded: "Vat is the names, pleass?" "Not so loud!" Mallory whispered. Baumann put his finger to his nose, wisely: "I see, it is a confidential marriage. Sit down once." When he had asked Mallory the necessary questions and taken his fee, he passed over the document by which the sovereign state of Nevada graciously permitted two souls to be made more or less one in the eyes of the law. "Here you are," said Mr. Baumann. "Vit dat you can get married anyvere in Nevada." Mallory realized that Nevada would be a thing of the past in a few hours more and he asked: "It's no good in California?" "Himmel, no. In California you bot' gotta go and be examined." "Examined!" Mallory gasped, in dire alarm. "Vit questions, poissonally," Mr. Baumann hastened to explain. "Oh!" "In Nevada," Baumann insinuated, still hopeful, "I could marry you myself--now, right here." "Could you marry us in this smoking room?" "In a cattle car, if you vant it." "It's not a bad idea," said Mallory. "I'll let you know." Seeing Marjorie coming down the aisle, he hastened to her, and hugged her good-morning with a new confidence. Dr. and Mrs. Temple, who had returned to their berth, witnessed this greeting with amazement. After the quarrel of the night before surely some explanation should have been overheard, but the puzzling Mallorys flew to each other's arms without a moment's delay. The mystery was exciting the passengers to such a point that they were vowing to ask a few questions point blank. Nobody had quite dared to approach either of them, but frank curiosity was preferable to nervous prostration, and the secret could not be kept much longer. Fellow-passengers have some rights. Not even a stranger can be permitted to outrage their curiosity with impunity forever. Seeing them together, Mrs. Temple watched the embrace with her daily renewal of joy that the last night's quarrel had not proved fatal. She nudged her husband: "See, they're making up again." Dr. Temple was moved to a violent outburst for him: "Well, that's the darnedest bridal couple--I only said darn, my dear."