"Say, will the old man fall AGAIN?" queried Armistead.
"He's going to marry her!" The three others stared at him in amazement.
"Right!" confirmed Melcher. "She's got a strangle hold on him."
"Hm-m! Maybe we haven't lost the last car yet," Sullivan ventured.
Jim seconded the thought. "She's got an ace buried somewhere. There's a lot more in her head than hair-pins. I wish Merkle would marry my sister."
"Not a chance," Melcher declared. "You'll be lucky to shake him down for a few thousand. How about Wharton? Will she stand for him?"
Jim frowned, and his voice was rough as he replied:
"I'll MAKE her stand for him—if it's a marry."
"He's a lush; if you got him stewed he might go that far. It has been done; but, of course, it's all up to the girl. Anyhow, if he balks at the altar we might get him for something else."
"I'm not sure I'll need any help in this." Jim looked up coldly. "If he marries her, that ends it; if we have to frame him, of course I'll split."
"How are you going to frame him, with a square dame like Lorelei?" asked Armistead.