. That teetotal wreck on the west side o'
the lake took a hem'ridge--I furget his name, somethin'-weather: pretty
dry weather, judgin' from what I hear."

"Starkweather?"

"Yes, Starkweather; I guess he's pretty low."

Parker started back to the post where his mule was tied. Then he turned
and looked into the saloon. Levison had gone in and was wiping off the
counter expectantly.

"It won't take but a minute," he apologized to himself.

It took a good many minutes, however, and by the time the minutes
lengthened into hours Parker had ceased to apologize to himself, and
insisted upon taking the by-standers into his confidence.

"I'm--I'm goin' to sign the pledge," he said, with an unsteady wink,
"an' then I'm goin' to get merried,--yes, sir, boys; rattlin' nice girl,
too,--'way up girl, temperance girl. But there's many a cup 'twixt the
slip and the lip--ain't there, boys? Yes, sir, 'twixt the cup and the
slip--yes, sir--yes, sir--ee." Then his reflections driveled off into
stupor, and he sat on an empty keg with the conical crown of his old
felt hat pointed forward, and his hands hanging limply between his
knees.

When Levison was ready to leave he stirred Parker up with his foot, and
helped him to mount his mule. The patient creature turned its head
homeward.

It was after daybreak when Parker rode into the Starkweather ranch, and
presented himself at the kitchen door. The night air had sobered him,
but it had done nothing more. Idy was standing by the stove with her
back toward him. She turned when she heard his step.

"Why, Park!" she said, with a start; then she put up her hand. "Don't
make a noise. Pappy's sick."

He came toward her hesitatingly.

"So I heard down at Maravilla last night, Idy."

Her face darkened.

"And you been all night gettin' here?"

He bent over her coaxingly.

"Well, you see, Idy"--

The girl pushed him away with both hands, and darted back out of reach.

"Parker Lowe," she said, with a gasp, "you've been drinkin'!"

Parker hung his head sullenly.

"No, I hain't," he muttered; "not to speak of. Whose horse is that out
'n the corral?"

The girl looked at him witheringly.

"I don't know as it's any of your pertic'lar business, but I don't mind
tellin' you that horse b'longs to _a gentleman_!"

"A gentleman," sneered Parker.

"Yes, _a gentleman_; if you don't know what that is you'd better look in
the dictionary. You won't find out by lookin' in the lookin'-glass,