ed Mrs. Beaver in accents so awful that her
listeners quaked. "Well, I'll see the reason why!"

Out into the night she sallied, picking her way around the puddles until
she reached the saloon at the corner.

"Where's Ben Schenk?" she demanded sternly of the men around the bar.

There was an ominous silence, broken only by the embarrassed shuffling
of feet.

Drawing herself up, Mrs. Beaver thumped the counter.

"Where's he at?" she repeated, glaring at the most embarrassed of the
lot.

"He don't know where he's at," said the man. "I rickon he cilebrated a
little too much fer the weddin'."

"Can he stand up?" demanded Mrs. Beaver.

"Not without starchin'," said the man, and amid the titter that
followed, Mrs. Beaver made her exit.

On the corner she paused to reconnoitre. Across the street was her gaily
lighted cottage, where all the guests were waiting. She thought of the
ignominy that would follow their abrupt dismissal, she thought of the
refreshments that must be used to-night or never, she thought of the
little bride sitting disconsolate on the kitchen table.

With a sudden determination she decided to lead a forlorn hope. Facing
about, she marched weightily around to the rear of the saloon and began
laboriously to climb the steps that lead to the hall. At the door she
paused and made a rapid survey of the room until she found what she was
looking for.

"Joe Ridder!" she called peremptorily.

Joe, haggard and listless, put down his billiard-cue and came to the
door.

Five minutes later a breathless figure presented himself at the Beaver
kitchen. He had on a clean shirt and his Sunday clothes, and while he
wore no collar, a clean handkerchief was neatly pinned about his neck.

"Everybody but the bride and groom come into the parlour," commanded
Mrs. Beaver. "I'm a-going to make a speech, and tell 'em that the bride
has done changed her mind."

Joe and Mittie, left alone, looked at each other in dazed rapture. She
was the first to recover.

"Joe!" she cried, moving timidly towards him, "ain't you mad? Do you
still want me?"

Joe, with both hands entangled in her veil and his feet lost in her
train, looked down at her through swimming eyes.

"Want yer?" he repeated, and his lips trembled, "gee whiz! I feel like I
done ribbeted a hoop round the hull world!"

The signal was given for them to enter the parlour, and without further
interruption the ceremony proceeded, if not in exact accordance with