out this--about that--about--about my cousin
now, Mac?" inquired Marcus.

McTeague shook his head helplessly. It was dark by now and cold. The
little back yard was grimy and full of odors. McTeague was tired with
their long walk. All his uneasiness about his affair with Trina had
returned. No, surely she was not for him. Marcus or some other man would
win her in the end. What could she ever see to desire in him--in him, a
clumsy giant, with hands like wooden mallets? She had told him once that
she would not marry him. Was that not final?

"I don' know what to do, Mark," he said.

"Well, you must make up to her now," answered Marcus. "Go and call on
her."

McTeague started. He had not thought of calling on her. The idea
frightened him a little.

"Of course," persisted Marcus, "that's the proper caper. What did you
expect? Did you think you was never going to see her again?"

"I don' know, I don' know," responded the dentist, looking stupidly at
the dog.

"You know where they live," continued Marcus Schouler. "Over at B Street
station, across the bay. I'll take you over there whenever you want to
go. I tell you what, we'll go over there Washington's Birthday. That's
this next Wednesday; sure, they'll be glad to see you." It was good of
Marcus. All at once McTeague rose to an appreciation of what his friend
was doing for him. He stammered:

"Say, Mark--you're--you're all right, anyhow."

"Why, pshaw!" said Marcus. "That's all right, old man. I'd like to see
you two fixed, that's all. We'll go over Wednesday, sure."

They turned back to the house. Alexander left off eating and watched
them go away, first with one eye, then with the other. But he was too
self-respecting to whimper. However, by the time the two friends had
reached the second landing on the back stairs a terrible commotion was
under way in the little yard. They rushed to an open window at the end
of the hall and looked down.

A thin board fence separated the flat's back yard from that used by
the branch post-office. In the latter place lived a collie dog. He and
Alexander had smelt each other out, blowing through the cracks of the
fence at each other. Suddenly the quarrel had exploded on either side of
the fence. The dogs raged at each other, snarling and barking, frantic
with hate. Their teeth gleamed. They tore at the fence with their front
paws. They filled the whole night with their clamor.

"By damn!" cried Marcus, "they don't love each oth