. I guess we don't have to boil the
whole house for Enid."

Ralph snickered and shot upstairs. He found Claude sitting on the
bed, with one shoe off and one shoe on. A pile of socks lay
scattered on the rug. A suitcase stood open on one chair and a
black travelling bag on another.

"Are you sure they're too small?" Ralph asked.

"About four sizes."

"Well, why didn't you get them big enough?"

"I did. That shark in Hastings worked off another pair on me when
I wasn't looking. That's all right," snatching away the shoe his
brother had picked up to examine. "I don't care, so long as I can
stand in them. You'd better go telephone the depot and ask if
the train's on time."

"They won't know yet. It's seven hours till it's due."

"Then telephone later. But find out, somehow. I don't want to
stand around that station, waiting for the train."

Ralph whistled. Clearly, his young man was going to be hard to
manage. He proposed a bath as a soothing measure. No, Claude had
had his bath. Had he, then, packed his suitcase?

"How the devil can I pack it when I don't know what I'm going to
put on?"

"You'll put on one shirt and one pair of socks. I'm going to get
some of this stuff out of the way for you." Ralph caught up a
handful of socks and fell to sorting them. Several had bright red
spots on the toe. He began to laugh.

"I know why your shoe hurts, you've cut your foot!"

Claude sprang up as if a hornet had stung him. "Will you get out
of here," he shouted, "and let me alone?"

Ralph vanished. He told his mother he would dress at once, as
they might have to use force with Claude at the last moment. The
wedding ceremony was to be at eight, supper was to follow, and
Claude and Enid were to leave Frankfort at 10:25, on the Denver
express. At six o'clock, when Ralph knocked at his brother's
door, he found him shaved and brushed, and dressed, except for
his coat. His tucked shirt was not rumpled, and his tie was
properly knotted. Whatever pain they concealed, his patent
leather shoes were smooth and glistening and resolutely pointed.

"Are you packed?" Ralph asked in astonishment.

"Nearly. I wish you'd go over things and make them look a little
neater, if you can. I'd hate to have a girl see the inside of
that suitcase, the way it is. Where shall I put my cigars?
They'll make everything smell, wherever I put them. All my
clothes seem to smell of cooking, or starch, or something. I
don't know what Mahailey does