"Pretty sure," said Mallory, sobering a trifle. "But you said you were sure?" "Well, when you say you're sure, that means you're not quite sure." It was not an entirely satisfactory justification, and Marjorie began to quake with alarm: "Suppose there shouldn't be?" "Oh, then," Mallory answered carelessly, "there's bound to be one to-morrow." Marjorie realized at once the enormous abyss between then and the morrow, and she gasped: "Tomorrow! And no chaperon! Oh, I'll jump out of the window." Mallory could prevent that, but when she pleaded, "What shall we do?" he had no solution to offer. Again it was she who received the first inspiration. "I have it," she beamed. "Yes, Marjorie?" he assented, dubiously. "We'll pretend not to be married at all." He seized the rescuing ladder: "That's it! Not married--just friends." "Till we can get married----" "Yes, and then we can stop being friends." "My love--my friend!" They embraced in a most unfriendly manner. An impatient yelp from the neglected dog-basket awoke them. "Oh, Lord, we've brought Snoozleums." "Of course we have." She took the dog from the prison, tucked him under her arm, and tried to compose her bridal face into a merely friendly countenance before they entered the car. But she must pause for one more kiss, one more of those bittersweet good-byes. And Mallory was nothing loath. Hudson and Shaw were still glumly perplexed, when the porter returned in his white jacket. "I bet they missed the train; all this work for nothing," Hudson grumbled. But Shaw, seeing the porter, caught a gleam of hope, and asked anxiously: "Say, porter, have you seen anything anywhere that looks like a freshly married pair?" "Well," and the porter rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as he chuckled, "well, they's a mighty lovin' couple out theah in the corridor." "That's them--they--it!" Instantly everything was alive and in action. It was as if a bugle had shrilled in a dejected camp. "Get ready!" Shaw commanded. "Here's rice for everybody." "Everybody take an old shoe," said Hudson. "You can't miss in this narrow car." "There's a kazoo for everyone, too," said Shaw, as the outstretched hands were equipped with wedding ammunition. "Do you know the 'Wedding March'?" "I ought to by this time," said Mrs. Whitcomb. Right into the tangle of preparation, old Ira Lathrop stalked, on his way back to his seat to get more cigars. "Have some rice for the bridal couple?" said Ashton, offering him of his own double-handful. But Lathrop brushed him aside with a romance-hater's growl. "Watch out for your head, then," cried Hudson, and Lathrop ducked just too late to escape a neck-filling, hair-filling shower. An old shoe took him a clip abaft the ear, and the old woman-hater dropped raging into the same berth where the spinster, Anne Gattle, was trying to dodge the same downpour.