proved and re-proved. Come on, Henry--proceed to your Waterloo! Special creation indeed! Comparative anatomy, single-handed, will prove it false!" "My G--d!" muttered Henry, forgetting his mission entirely. His head whirled, his feet were slipping so rapidly that he did not know where he was going. He stared, open-mouthed at Doctor Horn, dumbly at the marshal, got up, sat down, and then slumped back against his chair, helpless, hopeless, fearing the worst. Over his head hurled words he thought to be foreign, as his companions, having annihilated him, were performing evolutions and exercises of their verbal arms for the sheer joy of it. Finally, despairing of the lecture ever ending, he arose to escape, but was pushed back again by the excited, exultant doctor. Daylight faded, twilight passed, and it was not until darkness descended that the doctor, finding no opposition, but hearty accord instead, tired of the sound of his own voice and that of the marshal, and after profuse expressions of friendship and pleasure, departed, his head high, his shoulders squared, and his tread firm and militant. Henry’s sigh of relief sounded like the exhaust of an engine and he shifted again on the chair and tried to collect his scattered senses. Before he could get started the marshal sent him off on a new track, and his unspoken queries remained unspoken for another period. "Seen Miss Saunders yet?" asked Tex, struggling hard to conceal his laughter. Henry shook his head. "No; but I ain’t goin’ to wait much longer. I don’t see no signs of her weakenin’, an’ that C Bar puncher is gittin’ too cussed common around her house. For a peso I’d toss him in th’ discard. I reckon yore way ain’t no good with her, Marshal. I got to do somethin’--got to get some action." "I know about how you feel," sympathized Tex. "I know how hard it is to set quiet an’ wait in a thing like this, Hennery, even if action does lose th’ game. Who was it you aimed to have perform th’ ceremony?" "Oh, there’s a pilot down to Willow--one of them roamin’ preachers that reckons he’s found a place where he can stick. He’ll come up here if th’ pay’s big enough, an’ if I want any preacher. He’ll only have to stay over one night to git a train back ag’in. Anyhow, if we has to wait a day or two it won’t make much difference, as long as we’re goin’ to git hitched afterward." Tex closed his eyes and waited to get a good hold on himself before replying. "He’ll come for Gus, all right," he said. "Think you can hold out a few days more--just to see if my way will work? It’ll be better, all around, if you do. Where was you aimin’ to buy them presents for her?" "Kansas City or St. Louie--reckon St. Louie will be better. Gus gets most of his supplies from there. You still thinkin’ stockin’s is th’ proper idea?"