"As your husband, madam, I insist."
"Stop right there, stranger—Mr. Crane, I mean," said the bride, decidedly. "Do you see that? and she whipped out a revolver.
"Good gracious, Mrs. Crane! Do you want to murder me?"
"No, I didn't marry you for that; but I want you to understand that the money is in my hands, and I don't allow any man to insist. I may let you have some of it when I get ready. Do you understand?"
"I believe I do," murmured Crane. "I'm regularly taken in and done for," he reflected sadly.
But directly after their return Mrs. Crane prepared a nice supper, and Crane, as he ate it, and smoked a pipe later, began to be reconciled to his new situation.