Wellington looked from the crowded card to the zealous face. "Divorce Outfitters, eh? I don't quite get you." "Vell, in the foist place----" "'The foist place,' eh? You're from New York." "Yes, oritchinally. How did you know it? By my feshionable clothink?" "Yes," laughed Wellington. "But you say I need you. How?" "Vell, you've got maybe some beggetch, some trunks--yes?" "Yes." "Vell, in the foist place, I am an expressman. I deliver 'em to your address--yes? Vere iss it?" "I haven't got any yet." "Also I am addressman. Do you vant it a nice hotel?--or a fine house?--or an apartment?--or maybe a boarding-house?--yes? How long do you make a residence?" "Six months." "No longer?" "Not a minute." "Take a fine house, den. I got some beauties just wacated." "For a year?--no thanks." "All the leases in Reno run for six months only." "Well, I'd like to look around a little first." "Good. Don't forget us. You come out here for six months. You vant maybe a good quick divorce--yes?" "The quickest I can get." "Do you vant it confidential? or very nice and noisy?" "What's that?" "Ve are press agents and also suppress agents. Some likes 'em one way, some likes 'em anudder. Vich do you vant it?" "Quick and quiet." "Painless divorce is our specialty. If you pay me an advence deposit now, I file your claim de minute de train stops and your own vife don't know you're divorced." "I'll think it over," said Wellington, rising with resolution. "Don't forget us. Baumann and Blumen. Satisfaction guaranteed or your wife refunded. Avoid substitoots." And then, seeing that he could not extract any cash from Little Jimmie, Mr. Baumann descended upon Mallory, who was just finishing his shave. Laying his hand on Mallory's arm, he began: "Excoose, pleass. Can I fit you out vit a nice divorce?" "Divorce?--me!--that's good," laughed Mallory at the vision of it. Then a sudden idea struck him. It took no great genius to see that Mr. Baumann was not a clergyman, but there were other marriers to be had. "You don't perform marriages, do you?" he asked. Mr. Baumann drew himself up: "Who says I don't? Ain't I a justice of the peaces?" Mallory put out his hand in welcome: then a new anxiety chilled him. He had a license for Chicago, but Chicago was far away: "Do I need a license in Nevada?" "Why shouldn't you?" said Mr. Baumann. "Don't all sorts of things got to have a license in Nevada, saloons, husbands, dogs----" "How could I get one?" Mallory asked as he went on dressing. "Ain't I got a few vit me? Do you vant to get a nice re-marriage license?" "Re-marriage?--huh!" he looked round and, seeing that no one else was near: "I haven't taken the first step yet." Mr. Baumann layed his hands in one another: "A betchelor? Ah, I see you vant to marry a nice divorcee lady in R-r-reno?" "She isn't in Reno and she has never been married, either." This simple statement seemed to astound Mr. Baumann: