about my wedding, have
you? I wouldn't stand for that, you know!

WARDEN. It's not that, Mr. Trotter. Your wife's son-in-law, Sterling,
has turned out a blackguard; he has had intrusted to him Miss Ruth
Hunter's money and several other people's, and he's used it all for
speculation of his own.

TROTTER. Then he's a damned thief!

[_He sits on the bench with the manner that he has settled the subject._

WARDEN. So he is, and he's ruined.

TROTTER. Well, prison is the place for _him_.

WARDEN. We won't argue that, but how about his family--they get punished
for what he has done; they must share his disgrace.

TROTTER. Oh, well, my wife is out of all that now--_she's Mrs. Trotter_.

WARDEN. Yes, but _her own daughter_ suffers.

TROTTER. [_On the defensive._] She isn't very chummy with her classy
eldest daughter.

WARDEN. Never mind that; you know without my telling you that Mrs.
Sterling is a fine woman.

TROTTER. She's always snubbed me right and left, but, by George, I must
own she is a fine woman.

WARDEN. That's right! [_Clapping him on the back and putting his arm
around his shoulder._] Look here--help us save her!

TROTTER. How?

WARDEN. Indorse a note of Sterling's to give Ryder to keep him quiet.

TROTTER. I'd have to ask my wife.

WARDEN. No! Don't start off like that! Keep the reins in your own hands
at the very beginning,--make her realize from this very day that you're
raised up on the cushion beside her; that she's sitting lower down
admiring the scenery, while you do the driving through life!

TROTTER. [_Half laughing._] Ha! I guess you're right. Box seat and reins
are good enough for me!

WARDEN. Good boy! Then we can count on you to sign this note?

TROTTER. Where's _my_ security?

WARDEN. I can get you security if you want it.

TROTTER. Of course I want it! And I say, where are _you_? Why aren't
_you_ in it?

WARDEN. There are reasons why my name had better not appear; you are in
the family. But I'll tell you what I'll do, Trotter; I'll secure _you_
with a note of my own--only you must keep it dark; you mustn't even let
Mason know.

TROTTER. All right, perhaps I'm a Dodo bird, but I'll do it. Say, I seem
to have married a good many of this classy family!

WARDEN. Trotter, no one's done you justice! And, by George! you deserve
a better fate--er--I mean--my best wishes on your wedding day.

[TROTTER _shakes his hand delightedly._

TROTTER. Great day for me! What I wanted was