round.

"Uncommon bad piece of trail just this side of the turn," he remarked
stentoriously, at the same time flinging an eloquent glance at the
demijohn. "Ice rotten from the springs and no sign till you're into
it." Turning to the woman by the stove, "How're you feeling, Blanche?"

"Tony," she responded, stretching her body lazily and redisposing her
feet; "though my legs ain't as limber as when we pulled out."

Looking to his host for consent, Cornell tilted the demijohn over his
arm and partly filled the four tin mugs and an empty jelly glass.

"Wot's the matter with a toddy?" the Virgin broke in; "or a punch?"

"Got any lime juice?" she demanded of Corliss.

"You 'ave? Jolly!" She directed her dark eyes towards Del. "'Ere,
you, cookie! Trot out your mixing-pan and sling the kettle for 'ot
water. Come on! All hands! Jake's treat, and I'll show you 'ow! Any
sugar, Mr. Corliss? And nutmeg? Cinnamon, then? O.K. It'll do.
Lively now, cookie!"

"Ain't she a peach?" Cornell confided to Vance, watching her with
mellow eyes as she stirred the steaming brew.

But the Virgin directed her attentions to the engineer. "Don't mind
'im, sir," she advised. "'E's more'n arf-gorn a'ready, a-'itting the
jug every blessed stop."

"Now, my dear--" Jake protested.

"Don't you my-dear me," she sniffed. "I don't like you."

"Why?"

"Cos . . ." She ladled the punch carefully into the mugs and
meditated. "Cos you chew tobacco. Cos you're whiskery. Wot I take to
is smooth-faced young chaps."

"Don't take any stock in her nonsense," the Fraction King warned, "She
just does it a-purpose to get me mad."

"Now then!" she commanded, sharply. "Step up to your licker! 'Ere's
'ow!"

"What'll it be?" cried Blanche from the stove.

The elevated mugs wavered and halted.

"The Queen, Gawd bless 'er!" the Virgin toasted promptly.

"And Bill!" Del Bishop interrupted.

Again the mugs wavered.

"Bill 'oo?" the Virgin asked, suspiciously.

"McKinley."

She favored him with a smile. "Thank you, cookie, you're a trump.
Now! 'Ere's a go, gents! Take it standing. The Queen, Gawd bless
'er, and Bill McKinley!"

"Bottoms up!" thundered Jake Cornell, and the mugs smote the table with
clanging rims.

Vance Corliss discovered himself amused and interested. According to
Frona, he mused ironically,--this was learning life, was adding to his
sum of human generalizations. The phrase was hers, and he rolled it
o