"Oh, that's wonderful--now I'll forgive you for the black eye. Look, Ev, my own bank book, and already a thousand dollars to check on--Ah, gee, that's swell, Big Boy," as she gave him a peck on the cheek for a kiss. "How would you and Ev like to go to a show for the rest of the afternoon?" asked Big Boy. "I wouldn't mind if I can have a few more drinks before I go in," said Evelyn. "I'm all fixed for that," he answered, as he took a pint out of his hip pocket. "I'll tell you, Pearl, you kill a third, and you kill a third, and I'll kill the rest. How's that?" said Evelyn, as she took the bottle from Big Boy. "Why just the pint? I've a quart in the other dresser--wait, I'll get it," as she went to the dresser and took out a quart of Kentucky Bourbon. "Why not kill both?" suggested Evelyn. "Did you say you wanted to see the picture, or just want to go in the theatre to sleep?" asked Big Boy. "Well, we'll get a bigger kick out of it, if we are stiff; I know we will." "I've a better idea than that," said Pearl. "Let's just kill the quart, then take the pint into the theatre, and have a nip during the picture, huh, what do you say?" "It don't matter where I drink it, as long as I drink, let's get started--Big Boy, you drink first, then you Pearl, then I'll knock the rest of it off," suggested Evelyn. "Oke," answered Big Boy, as he turned the bottle up to his mouth, while deep gurgling sounds came forth. The quart was finished, and all went to the theatre, as Pearl left orders with the maid to pack her things, and have them sent to the Hussman. The afternoon papers carried warnings to all Americans that the long-expected rebellion in Mexico had broken out in Durango, and that the administration of Portes Gil, Mexico's President, looked as though it were at an end. Portes Gil was at a loss--his troops could not seem to do anything--there was only one thing for him to do, and that was to recall ex-President Calles, known as the Iron Man of Mexico, to help in breaking the rebellion. Juarez, with its large garrison of soldiers, was at a nervous tension, and the bar owners were twice as nervous, not knowing how long the garrison would be loyal to the Federals, as all that is necessary to change their loyalty is to shoot the commanding officers, and declare they were loyal to the other side, which is so often the case when the opposing side is much larger, or when there is a little looting to be done. Fort Bliss, with its rows of beautiful two-story brick houses for its officers, its large brick barracks, housing its hundreds of men, and small, newly built brick bungalows for its petty officers, its tremendous stables housing its hundreds of horses, its enormous parade and drill grounds, clean as a freshly swept floor, aroused from its lethargy at the rumors of war. The men were raring to be let loose to fight, anybody or anything, as long as it promised excitement and fight.