CHAPTER IV
HEARTS AFLAME
They rose the next morning and dressed in the room without fire,shivering now as they drew on their stockings, frozen stiff. They hadtheir morning coffee in a chilly room downstairs, where sometimes theirslatternly landlady appeared, lugubriously voluble. This morning theyate alone, in silence, and none too happily. Even Annie's buoyantspirits seemed inadequate. A trace of bitterness was in her tone whenshe spoke.
"I'm sick of it."
"Yes, Annie," said Mary Warren. "And it's cold this morning, awfully."
"Cotton vests, marked down--to what wool used to be. Huh! Call thisAmerica?"
"What's wrong, Annie?" suddenly asked Mary Warren, drawing her wrapcloser as she sat.
"I'd go to the lake before I'd go to the streets, though you mightn'tthink it. But how about it with only the discards in Derby hats andfalse teeth left? If we two are going to get married, Mollie, we gotto look around among the remnants and bargains--we can't be tooparticular when we're hunting bargains. Whether it's all off for youat the store or not ain't for me to say, but you might do worse thanlisten to me."
Mary Warren looked at her in a sort of horror. "Annie, what do youmean?" she demanded.
The real reply came in the hard little laugh with which Annie Squiresdrew from the pocket of her coat--in which she also was muffled at thebreakfast table--a meager little newspaper, close-folded. She spreadit out before she passed it to her companion.
"_Hearts Aflame!_" said she. "While you have to dry your own socks,while you break the ice in your coffee! Can't you feel your heartflame? Anyway, here you are--bargains in husbands and wives! Take 'emfor the asking. Here's a lot of them advertised. Slightly damaged,but serviceable--and marked down within the reach of all.
"Why, us girls over at the shop, we read these things regular," sherattled on in explanation, her mouth full. "Some of the girls answerthese ads--it's lots of fun. You ought to see what some of the menwrite back. Look at this one, Sis!" said she, chuckling. "Some classto it, eh?" She pointed to an advertisement a trifle larger than itsfellows, a trifle more boldly displayed in its black type.
"Wanted: A Wife. A well-to-do and chivalrous rancher of abundant meansand large holdings in a Western State wishes to correspond with arespectable young woman who will appreciate a good home and lovingcare. Object--Matrimony."
"How ridiculous," said Mary Warren simply.
"Uh huh! Is it, though? I don't know. I put this thing to my ear,and it sort of sounded as if there was something behind it. Thatfellow wants a woman of his own to keep house for him. Out there womenare scarce. It's supply and demand, Sis, same as in your store. Well,here's a man looking for goods. So'm I. I've been looking him overfor myself, because I ain't as strong for Charlie Dorenwald as I mightbe, even if he's foreman. He talks so damn much Bolshevik, somehow.Of course, the country's rotten, but it's ours! Still and all, I'lltell you what I'll do, Sis, with you!"
She pulled her chair up to the side of her companion, fumbling in herlittle purse as she did so; drew out a copper coin and held it balancedbetween her fingers.
"'The one shall be taken and the other left,' Sis," said she. "Twowomen, grinding at the mill, the same little old mill, as the Biblesaid; and 'The one shall be taken and the other left.' Which one? Onethrow, Mary. Heads or tails. It's got to hit the ceiling before itfalls."
"Why, nonsense, Annie---- No, no!"
"Heads or tails!" insisted Annie Squires; and as she spoke she flippedthe coin against the ceiling. It rolled toward the street window,where neither of them at first could see it.
"Tails!" called Mary Warren faintly, suddenly. It seemed to her sheheard some other voice, speaking for her, without her real volition.
"You're on!" said Annie. They both rose and walked toward the darkerside of the room.
"I can't see," said Mary. "Strike a match."
Annie did so, and they both bent over the coin.
"Tails--you win!" said Annie Squires. "Well, what do you know aboutthat?"
She was half in earnest about her chagrin--half in earnest as shespoke. "I'd saved him for myself. Sometimes, I say, I don't knowabout this Charlie Dorenwald, even if he is crazy over me--I'm mostlybeing beware of foremen, me. And here's a chivalrous and well-to-doranchman--out West! Gee! Congratulations, Sis!"
The Sagebrusher: A Story of the West Page 4