“No. Porter is pretty badly hurt. We got him down from Livermore to-day. He was in the jail there, with Abrams and Brown. We gave bail for them, and all the men are back at the Montgomery Street place. Barkhouse is getting on all right, and there are a few bruises and cuts scattered around in my flock. But they'll all be in trim for another fight in two or three weeks.”
“I suppose you'll be sorry to part with them.”
“They are a faithful set, but I've had enough excitement for a while.”
“And Mrs. Borton?”
“Is to be buried to-morrow.”
“And you, Mr. Dudley?”
This question struck me a little blank. I had really not thought of what I was going to do.
“It's another case of an occupation gone,” I said rather ruefully. “With the break-up of the plots and the close of the Omega deal, I am at the end of my employments.”
With this view of the question before me, I fell into a panic of regrets, and began to blush furiously at my folly in imagining for an instant that Luella could think of me for a husband.
“No,” said Luella thoughtfully. “You are just at the beginning.”