“I haven't any doubt that he will arrange that,” said Lee. “And, for that matter, the United Fuel may look up yet. I had a prospectus—”
“Prospectus be damned!” said the postmaster. He seldom used an oath, and his tongue made a vicious lurch over it.
The druggist gave an enormous sigh. “Well, it won't come up to-night, and I've left my little boy alone in the store,” said he. “I've got to be going.”
“So have I,” said the postmaster. “My wife is alone.”
“My wife always stands up for Carroll,” said Lee, trotting nervously after the other men as they left the room. “Says she guesses he will end up by paying his bills as well as other men that are blaming him.”
“Hope to God he will,” said the postmaster.
The clerk and the two stenographers from Carroll's office had been having their heads together over a time-table. They also slipped out after the three men. The elder one still sniffed softly in her handkerchief.
The young man looked around at the stair up which Carroll had disappeared, and winked as he went out. There were left Carroll's coachman, the Hungarian girl, Madame Estella Griggs, Willy Eddy, and his wife. The coachman heard a noise of pounding in the stable and ran out. Marie remained in the doorway looking at the others with her piteous red eyes; Minna Eddy advanced towards her.
“They owe you your wages, don't they?” said she, with no sympathy, but rather a menace.
Little Marie shrank back. “Yis,” said she, pursing her lips.