The thirtieth morning came, and the quail disappeared as usual. Then, in a stately procession, came waiters--the first bearing a huge roast turkey. Behind him came others with the American accompaniments to the roast turkey, and all was set before the Zulu. There followed a sight worth seeing. The turkey was utterly demolished; the contents of the side dishes were consumed and the dishes themselves licked to a housewifely cleanness. For the first time in thirty days the Zulu gave a grunt of satisfaction. When all accounts were settled, the fortune of John Driscoll amounted to just twenty-two thousand one hundred and eighty dollars and twenty-seven cents. And so ended the second of the great quail-eating contests in St. Louis. Perhaps it was wrong, perhaps Driscoll shouldn't have won his money in the way he did; but in St. Louis there remains, as said in the beginning, much of the venturesome but always clean and honorable sporting spirit of the South, and in this case nobody was hurt, to speak of. They could afford it, and all, winners and losers, had enjoyed themselves. But facing Driscoll were still two appalling situations. There were Jessie and Mr. Cameron. Here the young man conducted himself with a diplomacy which was vastly to his credit. He went to Jessie, threw himself on her mercy and confessed all in detail--confessed everything. She was confused and maybe shocked; but a woman in love is kindly, and a woman in love with a man of force wants to become his wife. "How will you explain to Father?" said the thoughtful maiden. "I'll arrange it, somehow," said the now confident and buoyant Driscoll. He visited Mr. Cameron and gave satisfactory proof to the old gentleman that he was now the possessor of over twenty thousand dollars. "But how did you gain the money so soon, boy?" said Mr. Cameron. "I heard that you lost a thousand or two." Driscoll's face sobered. "I should think that no one better than you, Mr. Cameron, would understand the necessity on the part of a business man of keeping secret his methods and the relations of his business affairs. Pardon me--I am not yet your son-in-law." "Right you are, Driscoll!" was the immediate response. "You're a business man, after all!" It was not long before Driscoll became the son-in-law in fact. Then he told the whole story to his father-in-law. "Hum! ha!" said the old gentleman, musingly. CHAPTER XIX AT BAY SOFTLY