the
marshals of the parade, and was to be seen at every hour of the
day, wearing a borrowed high hat and cotton gloves, and galloping a
broken-down cab-horse over the cobbles. He carried a baton covered with
yellow and white calico, with which he made furious passes and gestures.
His voice was soon reduced to a whisper by continued shouting, and he
raged and fretted over trifles till he wore himself thin. McTeague was
disgusted with him. As often as Marcus passed the window of the flat the
dentist would mutter:

"Ah, you think you're smart, don't you?"

The result of the festival was the organizing of a body known as the
"Polk Street Improvement Club," of which Marcus was elected secretary.
McTeague and Trina often heard of him in this capacity through Heise the
harness-maker. Marcus had evidently come to have political aspirations.
It appeared that he was gaining a reputation as a maker of speeches,
delivered with fiery emphasis, and occasionally reprinted in the
"Progress," the organ of the club--"outraged constituencies," "opinions
warped by personal bias," "eyes blinded by party prejudice," etc.

Of her family, Trina heard every fortnight in letters from her mother.
The upholstery business which Mr. Sieppe had bought was doing poorly,
and Mrs. Sieppe bewailed the day she had ever left B Street. Mr. Sieppe
was losing money every month. Owgooste, who was to have gone to school,
had been forced to go to work in "the store," picking waste. Mrs. Sieppe
was obliged to take a lodger or two. Affairs were in a very bad way.
Occasionally she spoke of Marcus. Mr. Sieppe had not forgotten him
despite his own troubles, but still had an eye out for some one whom
Marcus could "go in with" on a ranch.

It was toward the end of this period of three years that Trina and
McTeague had their first serious quarrel. Trina had talked so much about
having a little house of their own at some future day, that McTeague had
at length come to regard the affair as the end and object of all their
labors. For a long time they had had their eyes upon one house in
particular. It was situated on a cross street close by, between Polk
Street and the great avenue one block above, and hardly a Sunday
afternoon passed that Trina and McTeague did not go and look at it.
They stood for fully half an hour upon the other side of the street,
examining every detail of its exterior, hazarding guesses as to
the arrangement of the rooms, commenting upon its imm