"But why the trombones and saxophones?"
"That also is part of the campaign for more contented miners," the inventor explained. "A ballot discloses that, next to their wives, the thing most needed by the exiles is music."
"I see," Verger grinned. "A variation of the old wheeze about wine, women and song."
"Something like that. And, since liquor is taboo, only the women and the music remained. On this first trip there was room enough for only one-fourth of the wives who wanted to join their husbands. They were about to draw lots when some one thought of the bright idea of selecting first the women who could play band instruments, thereby providing musical consolation for the benefit of the less fortunate men whose wives were delayed in transit."
"I suppose you were the one who picked the horn-blowers," Verger assumed.
"Yes, and since an immediate departure was imperative, I was ordered to accompany them and to train them during the long, tedious voyage. I feel quite proud of their progress. By the way, what do you think of our band of exiles' wives?"
Verger parried the question with another one: "Did you say all those girls are married—even the red-headed bass-drummer?"
"Oh, you mean Helen Green?" Anderson smiled. "Yes, she's married—like all the rest of the girls."
"The tramp—the chiseling tramp," Verger murmured to himself as he turned his face to the wall and fell asleep.