"Goin' to let him wake her up?"
"Can you see us stoppin' him? He'd kick the pants off us——"
"Sh-h-h!" motioned Smith; "there's a automobile! By gum! It's stopped!——"
The two muleteers set their glasses on the bar, slid to the floor, and marched, clanking, into the covered way that led to the street. Smith undid the bolts. A young man stood outside in the starlight.
"Well, Jack Burley, you old son of a gun!" drawled Glenn. "Gawd! You look fit for a dead one!"
"We ain't told her!" whispered Smith. "She an' us done in a Fritz this evening, an' it sorter turned Maryette's stomach——"
"Not that she ain't well," explained Glenn hastily; "only a girl feels different. Stick[pg 353] an' me, we just took a few drinks, but Maryette, soon as she got home, she just flopped down on her knees and asked that china virgin of hers to go easy on that there Fritz——"
They had conducted Burley to the bar; both their arms were draped around his shoulders; both talked to him at the same time.
"This here Fritz," began Glenn—but Burley freed himself from their embrace.
"Where's Maryette?" he demanded.